Playing With Fire || d.h

31. Best + Bitter = Better

Your POV

White walls. Cool, tile floor. The smell of antiseptic so strong it bleaches my nostrils. Florescent lights burning my retinas. Nurse's shoes squeak, squeak, squeaking on the floor, ringing in my ears. Crying coming from babies and adults alike. My nails digging deeply into my palms, my mouth filled with the metallic taste of blood as I bite ferociously on the inside of my cheek.

Sensory overload.

Dan's POV

Fuck boundaries, or keeping distance, or whatever the bloody hell our deal was. As the three of us sit in the hospital waiting room, Dodie continues pacing left to right, while (Y/n) and I stand, arms entangled around each other, her sobs into my chest chipping away at my heart, each one like an ax ramming into the trunk of a tree.

I stand with my mouth against the top of her head, my eyes pressed closed. (Y/n)'s arms are wrapped loosely around my waist, but I hold onto her tightly, keeping her steady as she shakes profusely.

When we first entered the hospital, tears swam in her eyes as she started hyperventilating, and I instinctively wrapped my arm around her, while Dodie only sat with her expression dulled.

No one else was sitting in the waiting room except for a silent receptionist, typing profusely at her computer and completely turning a blind eye to us. We've been standing in here for about thirty minutes now, with no sign of how Phil's doing.

Why is it so normal for everything to be going so well, then fall completely apart in less than a heartbeat?

Your POV

Hyperventilating into Dan's chest, probably soaking it through to the skin with my tears. Less than five minutes after entering the hospital, I started swaying on my feet, and Dan instinctively grabbed hold of me, not letting go since. Any thought of the "boundaries" that were supposedly set up yesterday immediately crumbled. Honestly, in this situation, who even cares?

Even without facing her, I can hear Dodie pacing back and forth behind me. Why can't someone just come and tell us what the hell is going on? Is it normal for them to just leave us out in the blue?

As if the doctors had been able to read my thoughts, someone comes out of the massive metal door at one corner of the waiting room. Dodie stops in her tracks, and Dan loosens his grip, so I can move my body about eight inches away from his and look at the nurse who's just come in.

"Are you the people who came here with Phillip Lester?" The female nurse asks in a smooth, monotonous voice.

"Uh, yeah, we are," Dan replies nervously.

"Are any of you family?" All three of us shake our heads "no" at the same time, causing the nurse only to grunt and look down at the plastic clipboard in her hands. "Well, then I guess the three of you can go see him."

"Is he awake?" Dodie blurts out. "I mean, are you gonna tell us what happened to him?"

The nurse takes a couple tense seconds as she flips through a few of the pages attached to the clipboard, then looks back up at us. "Well, when he fell, he broke his nose, along with spraining his left ankle and fracturing a bone in his upper left calf. He also has a minor concussion, but, besides a little confusion, blurriness, dizziness, etcetera, he's not going to have any noticeable symptoms."

Dan, Dodie and I continue to stare at the nurse, obviously incidentally making her uncomfortable. "Um, so, do you want to come in?" We all look at each other silently, then walk after the nurse. She leads us through winding, repetitive halls, and normally I'd want to try and memorize the path we're taking, but my anxiety's already on edge, and everything's deciding to blend together.