He's a Jealous Wolf (BoyxBoy)

Chapter Twenty-Four

Carter felt weirdly like an art piece in an expensive museum. A slightly uncomfortable and anxious piece of art, at that.

He was sitting in a hospital bed, a loose blanket draped over his legs and his wrist propped up on a pillow next to him. He sat somewhat awkwardly in the middle of the room as nurses walked around him, adjusting machines which emitted the most annoying beeping sounds that he had heard in his life.

The orthopaedic doctor had just put a cast on his broken wrist, and since then nobody had said a word to him, people just walked past the room and around him, glancing at his wrist but not really speaking to him. It wasn't like he would want to speak to them anyway, two nurses already asked him questions that had nothing to do with his wrist, one of them even accused him of being an abuse victim, and when that didn't lead to anything but a frustrated patient, she had told him that she would allow Alex to come back in soon.

Every moment that he sat alone in the all too big, white bed he felt more anxious. He only had god knows how much more time with Alex, and every second he was without him just made him think of how much more longer he would have before the moment would come where he would never see Alex again.

He felt like he could almost feel Alex, sitting or pacing nervously in the hallways of the waiting room, so close and yet so far away. He briefly wondered if this was what it would feel like once Alex actually left, if he would still feel this longing and love in his heart for him, if he would still feel him, know that he was still alive, breathing, living somewhere and yet he would know at the same time that he would never really see Alex again.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard footsteps and a smile graced his face as he saw Alex entering the room. Alex looked at him anxiously, as if his mere presence was enough to break another bone, but Carter ushered him into the room, patting the bed next to him encouragingly.

"How does it feel?" Alex asked, coming to sit down on the edge of the bed casually.

"Can't really feel any pain, they gave me some meds," Carter told him, looking at his cast covered arm. The cast was a plain white colour, the same colour as the all too white walls and the all two white sheets. It felt somewhat like an asylum in the room, the only source of colour and happiness being Alex. Even though the boy was dressed all in black and his dark hair and almost grey eyes weren't really colourful, he was still a source of light and happiness for Carter, no matter what he was wearing.

Alex was looking at him with a strange expression on his face. "I don't know what I would have done if something had happened to you..." Alex murmured, huffing at the end as if he was upset that he couldn't have prevented the broken wrist.

Carter mentally sighed, why did Alex always do this to himself? Next he would be blaming himself for global warming or something as equally ridiculous. He shouldn't be surprised though, Carter told himself, Alex had always been that way, thinking that it was his place to protect and provide for everyone, he always offered favours, always helped people when they were down, but most of all, he would take a bullet for any one of his friends, and that was what made Alex so special, so unique. There wasn't anyone out there quite like Alex and Carter knew that, and it made the thought of separation just that much harder.

"I am fine," he told Alex, reaching across and linking his uninjured hand with Alex's. Alex suddenly smiled, a big, huge, sweet smile and Carter cocked his head to the side. "What's gotten into you?" he asked, wondering why Alex's mood had suddenly changed so drastically.

Alex then spoke the most beautiful words that Carter had heard him say. "I'm not going to Italy." 

"What?" Carter asked with wide eyes, not believing his ears.