Mortis

11.

           

The remainder of the day came and went in the blink of an eye. Time seemed to move faster in the hospital. It was a strange feeling because there was little to no activity for me.

Julie went home at night and tried to convince me to go but to no avail.

Kela went home with promises to return after school the next day.

Ben stayed for the remainder of the day but had to leave for football practice.

All was well between the two friends again as fist-bumps and gentle man-hugs were exchanged. This pleased me very much. As much as I didn't like Ben right now, one couldn't deny that the two have been tight for quite some time and that Ben does truly care for John. Fear and worry were painted on his face like an immutable mask, making him unsure and hesitant in his movements with John.

He was gentle with him, no longer boyishly playful and aggressive. It didn't take a rocket scientist to know that one bear hug from Ben would crush John right now. After seeing Ben by his side I couldn't believe how much John had changed in so little time. What killed me the most is that I hadn't really noticed. Or perhaps it was that I didn't want to notice?

I spent the rest of the day and night by John's side, only leaving it to do necessities such as using the bathroom and an occasional forced bite of food. Food was nauseating to me, almost a chore so I wouldn't pass out from weakness and lack of nutrition. I spent the night by his side after Vivianne had left. She was unable to get someone to cover her shift and had no choice but to work until midnight, leaving me to watch over her only son.

I stocked up on caffeine until my body had finally begun to ignore its effects. I was going to stay up all night, no matter the effort. I laid back against my chair and read Shane's recommended "On Writing" by Stephen King as John slept.

He had finally begun to stir as my eyes had begun to droop, waking me up in an instant.

"Hay," he mumbled pushing all the wires off his body in annoyance.

"Yeah, I'm here." I leaned forward in my chair and pushed his hair out of his eyes gently, his blue eyes watching me warily.

He let out a weak laugh and then sighed deeply, "Enjoy it while it lasts."

I pulled my hand away from his hair and looked at him quizzically. "Enjoy wha?"

He grinned and ran his hands through his black hair with a wink. "My glorious black mane of the night."

"Shut the fuck up," I said pulling at his hair playfully.

"Ouch!" He exclaimed with wide eyes. "No wonder you girls resort to hair pulling when shit hits the fan! It requires no real strength and hurts like a bitch!" He slapped my hand away from his head with a laugh.

"Don't say stupid shit and I won't touch your 'glorious black mane of the night'."

He eyed me strangely, with an expression I couldn't name. I felt my heart race in uncertainty as he never broke his stare. He looked sad, tired and slightly guilty as I stared back at him in silence. "You should go home," he finally said, "that chair can't be comfortable."

I rolled my eyes and picked up my book to begin reading again as I leaned back in my chair. "Bite me, John," I said ending the conversation on my end.

"No, really, Hay, I don't think it's fair for you to sit on a chair while I sleep in this almost-equally-uncomfortable bed. I feel like a jackass. Although many may claim I am wrong...chivalry is not dead."

"You're going to do more than feel like one if you keep talking," I responded keeping my eyes on the book. I was wired off too much caffeine and was not in the mood to deal with John's bullshit "chivalry" at the moment.