[1] rewired | jachary janiel [✔]

[✉]new

✈ jack ✈
"no way, no way"
-

as daniel and i walked out of our hotel room, he peppered me with kisses and sweet nothings. once the light of the hallway reached us, we were back to being 'friends'. daniel's hands retreated back to his pockets and i kept our distance.

"it's probably the flu, jack, so i think we might need to go the pharmacy or something like that," daniel mindlessly chatted.

"that's a pain," i said.

daniel laughed in response. it was april, i got sick right at the end of flu season. just peachy i sighed.

"well, at least you're with me," daniel chirped. i smiled. "yeah, i'm with you, and that's all that matters,"

from that point on, we talked and laughed about everything and anything. it was just like our talks at three in the morning, nothing goes untouched.

we reached the hospital about forty-five minutes later. that's what happens when you decide to walk. we checked in at the waiting room for an unscheduled appointment.

"you got here right on time, because only two more doctors are available," the nurse at the front desk remarked.

i smiled at her and replied. "really?" she nodded at me and then told us to fill out a clip board with questions.

as i filled out the questions, daniel and i had conversations that led no where.

"zach corbyn and jonah said to meet them at jimmy johns at 12," daniel read off his phone.

"so this has to be over with in the next two hours," i drawled on as i handed the nurse. "why'd you come with me anyway?" i asked.

daniel gave me a lopsided grin. "morale support?" we laughed and talked about what places we're going to and how excited we are to meet our fans in europe.

"jack avery?"

i stood up and walked into the hallway, following a man that seemed to be in his late twenties. he led me into a sterilezed room that smelt of hand sanitizer. when i sat down on the leather bed covered in a sheet of paper, he fired me with questions.

"i'm dr. elijah antonio and you said you've been throwing up and running a fever lately?" he looked up from his clip board and i was met with black framed glasses and sparkling emerald eyes.

"yeah," i replied.

"anything else like nausea, light-headedness, and headaches?"

"nausea and light-headedness, but no head aches,"

he wrote something down on a white sheet of paper.

"i'll be needing a blood sample," he said while opening a drawer, bringing out a needle and tube.

i flinched at seeing the sharp object, needles weren't something i was fond of. he slipped on gloves, opened a satchet of rubbing alcohol, and rolled up my left sleeve.

he cleaned the patch of skin on the inside of my elbow.

"relax your muscles so it won't hurt as much,"

i partially listened to him as he punctured the skin with the needle and drew blood. he took the needle out and covered it with a band-aid. my arm was dully throbbing. he then put the blood in the tube, shook it, and left me alone in the room.

why did he need a blood sample?

the question haunted me until he returned and answered it, in the worst way possible.

"mr. avery, you have kline falters syndrome," he stated it as if was normal.

"what's that?" i asked.

"it's nothing serious, really, just for the fact that you have an extra x chromosome," he dismisses. the next bit of information was uncalled for and utterly devastating.

"but that may be the reason why you're pregnant,"

-
i don't like the doctor's office, it makes me feel uncomfortable; i don't like needles either...
[☁]