Ethan wakes me up early in the morning. "Fuck off," I groan as I roll over, hiding my face in my pillow. He chuckles. I act like I'm tired, but really I'm just trying to hide my blush. His hand brushed my hip while shaking me awake, and my body still tingled.
I need to stop, he's at least twenty, and I'm seventeen. But he looks a lot older, and that's still illegal.
Not that he would ever like me back anyways.
I sit up and stretch, watching him tap on buttons and screens next to my bed. He furrows his eyebrows adorably. I scoot over, dangling my legs over the side of my cot, knowing he'll be close to me when he stands up. Sure enough, he stands, and his face is only a few inches from mine. I fight a smirk, and he reddens, taking a step back. I stand up like nothing happened and stretch my arms above my head. He looks down at his clipboard reads something off my weekly agenda.
"Okay, shower time," he says. I roll my eyes. I hate taking showers here. The soaps and shampoos the hospital has make me smell like chemicals, and my mom 'forgets' to bring my toiletries.
(pro tip: get lush shampoo and conditioner bars bc i did the other day and my hair feels like magic okay okay)
He grabs my hand gently and walks me over to the little bathroom adjoining my room. "I can walk myself," I say. He shrugs.
"Better safe than sorry." I roll my eyes again, but smile at his dorkiness. I shut myself in the bathroom and strip out of my nasty hospital clothes. I take a step back so I can see myself in the little mirror above the sink, and look at my naked body. I used to look great; I was tan and curvy, and would always get compliments on my body. But chemo stole away the extra fat from my breasts and butt, and I'm not even able to work out to maintain my body shape. I'm super skinny and pale, my hipbones and ribs standing out against my thin skin. My face is the same, colorless and sickly, with barely any hair to frame it. My hair's thin and short, like a pixie cut. If I didn't have super thick hair before chemo, I would be bald.
I look sick.
I am sick, I remember.
I sigh and turn on the shower. I hum the Weeknd, my favorite artist, to myself, as I rub the foul soap over my skin. "Cause girl I'm just a bird..." I sing softly as I turn off the water. I dry the water off my body and fix my hair. I'm about to put my clothes back on when I realize they're still outside. "Fuck," I mumble. I don't want to put my dirty clothes back on, because then what's the point of even taking a shower? I wrap the towel tightly around myself and hope that Ethan's not in my room. I open the door a crack and peer around the corner. He's not, thank god.
I scamper quickly to the little pile of clothes in the corner of my room and grab a random amount of hospital-issued pants and shirts. I'm about to go back into the bathroom when Ethan opens the door. He looks up at his clipboard, and his eyes widen. His eyes roam furiously over my body, covered only by a towel. I bite the inside of my lip and rush past him into the bathroom. I shut the door behind me and lean against it, trying to keep the amazing feeling of his eyes on my body.
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NEW BOOK COMING SOON BITCHES AND IM SUPER EXCITED ABOUT IT
-m
YOU ARE READING
patient // e.d
FanfictionI sigh and sit next to her little bed. Her small frame seems smaller than usual, like the weight of her illness is sinking her down. I stare at her face, beautiful despite the tubes lacing around it. I grab her hand. "Please wake up," I whisper. "I...
