About a week after the pizza day, I was surprised to be woken up to an old lady, and not Ethan. I sit up in my bed sleepily. "Where's Ethan?" I yawn. The lady's wrinkly lips purse.
"Mr. Dolan is currently unavailible, I will be your caretaker until he returns."
"Is he okay?" The old lady sighs like taking care of me is the last thing she'd rather be doing.
"If you really want to know, no, he's not. He got in a car accident this morning. Took a different route, wanted to get flowers for somebody." I feel like something in my chest just got ripped out. But I often feel like that.
The thought of Ethan, my Ethan, in a car accident, somewhere in this hospital, hooked up to a million tubes, made me feel sick. And it didn't help, knowing that whoever he was getting the flowers for was probably next to him, comforting him, kissing him.
My eyes burn, and I decide that tonight, I'm going to find him, and tell him how I feel, even if I have to search the whole hospital.
--
The old lady is officially the shittiest nurse I've ever met.
When I told her I'd rather not go on the daily walk, she didn't even try to make me, even though it's official rules that I have to, otherwise I could get sick easier.
She also didn't notice that I was too nervous to eat, she was too wrapped up in her soduko game. I was too nervous to do much of anything, with the thought of telling Ethan how I feel plaguing my brain.
I felt a little sick that night, with no food in my stomach and no daily walk. But it didn't matter, the adrenaline of seeing Ethan propelled me anyways. A few minutes after eleven, when the lights were turned off in my room and dimmed in the hallway, I got up. I cracked open my door and peered around the hallways. Nobody was coming.
I went to the elevator and went to the floor below mine. I was on the top floor, for long-term stays. The floor under me was for most normal patients, it being the biggest floor, and the bottom floor was for emergency patients.
I really hoped I wouldn't have to check the bottom floor.
I peeked through the first window on the door next to the elevator. It was a mom and her newborn, sleeping. The second, a girl my age. A boy with a wrapped-up foot, a toddler with gauze on his head, a man with tubes attached to his stomach. As I reached the last few doors, my stomach started to drop. Half of it was from all the walking. I had to sprint in some places past receptionist desks, and without my walk earlier, it was taking its toll.
But it doesn't matter. It was for Ethan.
I got to the last door. I took a deep breath and rose on my toes to look through the little window. All I could see was a pair of large feet. I had to see if it was Ethan.
I looked over my shoulder, and cracked open the door. I winced when it creaked a little, but little snores kept floating from the bed. I leaned forward as far as I could without stepping in the room, then gasped so loudly I was surprised the security didn't come running.
Ethan lays on a bed like my own, his skin sallow and bruised. There's a little red cut over his angled eyebrow and on his plump bottom lip. Gauze is wrapped over the back of his head and over his left forearm. I turn and close the door behind me quietly. I pad to his bed, shivering as the chill from the tile floor seeps into my feet.
But it doesn't matter, because I found him.
Despite all the wounds, he looks adorable, his lips slightly parted, dark eyelashes standing out in the pale moonlight. I stand by his bed and take his big hand. I hold his rough hand to my own and run my fingertips over his limp knuckles. He stirs a little. "Ethan?" I whisper, barely even making noise. He cracks his eyes open, then looks over at me. He smiles sleepily and holds my hand tight.
"Hey." I smile too at his sleepy, raspy voice. "You shouldn't be here. You'll get cold." I laugh a little.
"Don't worry about me, look at you. What happened?" He closes his eyes, and I swear I can see a tint of pink rise on his cheeks.
"I wanted to get you flowers," he mumbles. "It's your birthday." My eyes widen.
"Shit, you're right. I forgot. Well, thanks for the gesture, Ethan." I run the pad of my thumb over the back of his hand.
"How did you forget it was your birthday? Didn't your parents come?" I shake my head and look down.
"No, it's fine, they've forgotten my birthday before. Are you okay?"
"Now." He looks at me, and I'm thankful it's dark so he can't see the blush on my cheeks. "Come here, you look cold." He holds out his arms. I smile.
"It's too small for both of us, dummy."
"That's quitter's talk, come here." He pulls my hand. I climb onto his little cot and lay down next to him. I have no choice but to be pressed to his sleep-warmed chest. He turns so he's facing me and wraps a heavy arm around me and pulls the thin blanket over us. I snuggle into his warm chest and he rests his chin on my head. "Happy Birthday, Belle," he sighs. I smile.
"Thanks for the flowers." He laughs, and I feel happiest since I got diagnosed.
Maybe even before.
===
this chap was lowkey kinda sad
but next is way sadder haha im evil
storys ending soon, this is kinda a short and sweet one
-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...
