Am I Dreaming?

Embraces

     NOTICE:
I have changed Oliver's last name as he was unintentionally named after the YouTuber, Oli White. I hope this ain't of any inconvenience.

     I was released from the hospital within two hours of my arrival, covered in bruises and with a black eye. My body ached every time I moved. I eased myself into a chair in the waiting room while my parents talked to the doctor. I hope Oliver is alright. I have no idea how long Trent was abusing him before I got there...
    An hour passed and my parents had, reluctantly, left without me. Nobody was going to get me out of the building until I knew Oliver was okay. I was staring blankly at a poster on the wall when a nurse with a French accent called my name.
     "Miss Lauren?" She asks. I nod. "Mister Oliver has been asking for you. He is in room 211, would you like me to walk you there?"
     I politely declined her offer and made my way to his room. He looked horrible. He had bags under his eyes that were barely visible over all the bruising. His right arm was in a cast and his breaths came out in sharp huffs. As soon as he saw me he smiles, lighting up all of his features. His eyes glinting and so bright, despite what the past 12 hours had held.
     Sitting down on the left side of the bed I ask him how he feels.
     "I feel like the luckiest boy in the world," He says. "They said that if you hadn't have stopped the bleeding from my chest and arm, I would be on life support right now. Thank you so much!"
     I remember, too vividly, his blood stained shirt and chest. I saw, again, how deep the cuts were when he took off his shirt. I remembered the puddles on the ground. Dark red... I shudder and shake myself free of my thoughts.
     With Oliver's permission, I read his medical report attached to the footboard of his hospital bead.
     "Tests conclude that Oliver has a moderate concussion, broken humorous (bone located in the arm above the elbow), and minor blood poisoning in his left forearm. Gashes on his chest we're not given the chance to bleed out, however, blood samples have been taken. Waiting for results."
     I returned the file to its proper place and sat back down. I gaze
into his eyes, worried. I felt him shakily slip his hand into mine and I squeezed his palm. I look down at our intertwined fingers and notice how small my hand looks compared to his. I smile.
     "Thank you." Says Oliver, again. I look up at him. He was looking at me, like he wanted to hug me. Like he needed me.
     "You risked your safety to help me. Thanks to you, the world still has to put up with me, and our school will still have the best basketball team in the board." His voice dripped with gratitude. "I didn't want to admit it in front of Trent, but I was close to downright balling. Not only did you save my life, but you also protected my dignity."
     He chuckled awkwardly and scratched the back of his neck with his good hand. The one that had been holding mine. My hand felt cold and empty without his. I suddenly had this urge and, without thinking, I slide my arms around Oliver's necks and pull him close to me. I rest my chin on his shoulder and hold him, tight. He gingerly slides his broken arm around the small of my back, followed by his good arm. I feel his tense body relax into me and we both stay like this, neither of us wanting, or willing, to let go.
     Just as we reluctantly separate, the nurse comes into Oliver's room with my mother and Oliver's father. I say my goodbyes and leave. Please let me see him tomorrow at school. Please let him be okay.

     Is Oliver okay? Will he be well enough to go to school with Lauren? Find out tomorrow with the next chapter of "Am I Dreaming?"