Four Hundred and Twenty | Yogscast Lewis (xReader)

T w e n t y F o u r

T w e n t y F o u r

T h e L a s t T i m e

- Lewis' View -

The first week of January past, and I've been dreading over when the time comes past that I had to come over and visit the hospital.

My fingers didn't stop moving, even my leg seemed to twitch in the car whilst Turps drove us over in the morning.

"Lewis," Turps started. "I know it isn't just me, but you look like shit."

I rolled my eyes, "Jeeze...thanks for pointing that out."

Leaning over to the side, I let my elbows hit the arm rest of the door and rubbed my eyes with my other arm, trying not to scrape myself from the velcro of my coat. Another yawn again, I wanted to really go to sleep - but my body clock hasn't been good since...well... I haven't really remembered when I had actually slept well of slept at all.

"Never have I ever seen you so...I don't know-" Turps ended in a high pitched confusion. "...like you're going to meet the devil's anoos or something." He shook his head and saw him clicked the indicator on, and we turned around the block.

I said nothing for the moment, trying to understand the words he's been trying to say.

"But nevertheless..." Turps trailed, and I was listening a bit more when he said. "I'm just confused...about what happened, really."

His admittance made me sit straightly at my seat. I said, "I don't think getting shot is a confusing occurrence. [Y/N] didn't throw herself at them!"

When I realised I had shouted at the end, I apologised. But only Turps replied with was a hum.

"I don't know, Lewis..." Turps seemed unsure, which I couldn't understand why he could have been. "[Y/N] left to talk to some government officials. And the Prime Minister was there: surely they would have the best bodyguards there are in the country?"

Shaking my head, I took out my phone at an instinct and searched through the news app.

SHOOTING AT BATH

CHARITY BALL AT SIEGE

TERROR ATTACK AT CHRISTMAS

What was I doing? These were almost a month old and I still feel like a wimp when I opened the articles. Maybe it was because it was the realisation that I had been there, and I was that close into getting hurt.

'Or it's because you know that [Y/N] got hurt,' The thought passed through my head and I wanted to gulp it down and forget about it.

I then groaned.

"Lewis," Turps joked. "If you're getting off, now, I mean...don't do it in my car."

Once he had found a parking space, he fiddled with the keys, whilst I grabbed the box from the backseat. Turps sighed, gesturing me to calm myself down - but to honest: I had nothing to really feel apart from what I've had deep in my heart.

Guilt.

Turps exited out and I followed suit, mentally preparing myself by the time we got to the front door of the hospital wing.

I forgot so much about my life. But out of every single thing, this never seemed to go away.

We got to front desk, and I was a bit occupied on the gift wrapped box In my hands, that Turps had sighed and asked for the room number instead. They said that she was at the east wing, and apparently someone else was here to see her. As we headed to the lift, I felt a hand place itself over my shoulder.