Chapter Forty-Three

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HAPPY THREE MONTHS FROM A TOO PRETTY SKY 💎

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H o l l o w s I n
T I M E
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As my eyelids fluttered open, I was aware of a cold compression on my forehead. I frowned, moving to reach up to it.

"It's okay, Sky, stay still." A voice said, sounding close yet far away. I shut my eyes, groggily trying to make sense of everything that was going on. When I opened them again, I was aware of a face covering my vision.

I blinked. It was Bria.

I reached my arm upwards, waving it around at nothing in particular. Bria smiled, grabbed my hand and placed it back down. I muffled something incoherently, then tried to push myself up.

"Take it slow." Bria instructed, helping me sit comfortably against a mountain of pillows behind me. It was then that I realised that we were in my room. I frowned, looking around, trying to find any signs of Jameson.

"What happened?" I mumbled, instinctively bringing my hand up to the pain on my face. Bria pushed my arm back down once again.

"Can you remember anything?" Bria asked, completely avoiding my question. Dots appeared across my vision and, this time, I managed to place a hand to my head. Hands rubbed my shoulders as I tried to overcome my sudden faintness.

"Do you think you'll be sick?" Bria asked and I shook my head.

"I just need some air." I told her. The cold compression was removed from my head and I was lifted up. I placed my feet on the ground and they gave Bria less work to do as she moved me to my window seat. She helped me onto the seat and I sat down, leaning my head against the window.

Bria moved my head so that it leaned against a pillow that she wedged between my head and the wall, then she pushed open the window. It let out a squeak, since it probably hadn't been opened since summer last year.

I inhaled the crisp autumn air with relief, opening my eyes to be captivated by a stunning sunset.

"What time is it?" I asked Bria. The sun was still up, but, as it started to descend, its colour bursted out and lit up the translucent clouds.

"Quarter to seven." Bria replied, placing the ice pack back onto the side of my face.

"Where's Jameson?" I asked, recalling that I hadn't seen him earlier in my dazed moments.

"In his room—talking to Jonah." Bria told me, her arm dropping slightly.

"I'll take it." I told her, and she removed her hand, and I placed the ice pack onto my wound myself.

"I remember what happened." I confirmed. "But I blacked out straight after." I continued.

Bria nodded, "yeah, Jameson was pretty freaked—he didn't know what to do."

"Say sorry?" I joked. Bria smiled ruefully.

"It wasn't that simple. He felt terrible for what he did, and even attempted to take you to the hospital." Bria explained.

"'Attempted'?" I echoed Bria.

She nodded, "it was a bad idea, as explained by Jonah—it would mean that Jameson would have to explain what happened to you." She told me.

"And I guess that 'my fist ran into her face accidentally' wouldn't have been a very good explanation?" I joked again.

Bria tucked a hair behind her ear. "He would've gotten into a lot of trouble." She told me.

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