Open Your Eyes (Cashby)

Chapter 14

ALAN'S POV

Visiting Day. Also translated to The Worst Day in the Hospital. The first time around, I was excited. I had hoped that my parents would bring me things from home; letters and love. They didn't; they were... awkward. Had I made them uncomfortable with my illness? Probably. After a few hours of small talk, my mom got annoyed and angered with me, with my 'lack of progress'. My father watched with a sad, somber ambiance as she chastised me, and I just watched the walls behind her melt. She'd snapped her fingers in front of my face. "Are you even paying attention?" She'd asked, and I nodded slowly, but truthfully, I wasn't. After that, I'd promptly decided that Visiting Day was not a good time for me. My mom's mood could change so quickly, it was enough to make your head spin.
I sat and brooded in Arts and Crafts over the fact that my parents were coming in an hour.
"What's wrong?" Austin's voice startled me, causing my head to snap around. "Oops, didn't mean to scare you." He chuckled adorably and sat next to me, eyes focusing on my paper.
"You didn't scare me." I lied, feeling warm and stupid like I always did when he spoke to me. Austin's eyes twinkled with his grin.
"Yeah, right." He mumbled. "What is this?" He pointed to my painting.
"A dust bunny."
"Ooo, very creative." He winked, fingertips brushing against mine. "Just kidding. This isn't your style, though." I knew it wasn't. I'd just been using black paint, letting my hand wander about the page in a random, scribbling pattern. Art really was a release, and it de-stressed me.
"I'm nervous." I mumbled. The light coming from the window glinted in a strange, wavy way, but I dismissed it as a small delusion. It went away quickly.
"About what?"
"V-visiting Day." My words faltered. I just wanted to disappear for a while until my parents believed I was gone. He furrowed his brow, rubbing my hand distractedly. It felt so... intimate. I loved it, wishing silently to be so much closer. How can he not yet realize that we're perfect for each other?
"I think it's very important for your parents to have an open communication with you."
"You sound like Dr. Wheeler." I pouted. He cocked his head, expression cloaked in adoration.
"You're so cute." He whispered, shocking the crap out of me. Austin snapped out of it, shaking his head a little and standing up. "Um, just be calm and honest with them, everything will be okay." He hurried away, sitting back at the front and looking down to some papers, like a teacher. My mind boggled at what just happened. Did he really call me cute? It filled my stomach with butterflies. No one had ever really called me that before. Does this mean he likes me? I couldn't get my mind away from the subject, and left the room with it clouding my thoughts.
In the common room, and scattered about, were parents, guardians, and some siblings speaking with the inpatients. Some of patients didn't get visitors, and, oddly, I was jealous of them. Taking a seat in one of the chairs, I waited for my mom and dad to arrive. Slowly, everyone dispersed into their own rooms and about the hospital. After 10 minutes, my mother walked up to the front desk, getting access and looking for me. I made no move to show her where I was, but she found me anyways, towing my father along behind. Her face had a smile plastered upon it, which lightened my spirits a little. As she approached, I rose and wrapped my arms around her, which she returned, squeezing me lightly. We said nothing, I just pressed my face into her short blond beach curls. She released, and I hugged my dad, inhaling his cologne. I'd forgotten all the little things I missed about home.
"Hey, buddy, how are ya?" He smiled, kissing my head. I'd missed him so much. We all sat down at a table in the common room with wooden chairs.
"I'm doing good. I miss home." I admitted. They both nodded, looking happy.
"You seem to be doing a bit better than last time." She watched me cautiously. I shrugged.
"I am. My medication is working." She rolled her eyes, the first sign of attitude tonight. I'd thought she wouldn't do this, but apparently I was wrong.
"You mean you're finally seeing reason?"
"Janet." My dad clutched her arm lightly, speaking in a warning tone. I just watched, feeling inadequate and emotionally drained. Why does she always do this? Can't she accept that there's something wrong with me? Silently, I longed to be something unseen, like a floorboard, or a lighting filter.
"Anyways, do you think you're ready to come home yet?" Her tone was hopeful. Again, I shrugged my shoulders.
"You'll probably have to ask Dr. Wheeler."
"That old quack," She muttered, "he thinks he knows everything." The conversation went very quiet, save for a long sigh from my father.
"So, Alan, are you making friends here? It's been a few months." My faster smiled at me lightly, and I nodded. "Who are they?"
"My roommate, Jake. And I'm pretty good friends with one of the orderlies." He nodded encouragingly.
"That's good. So you're getting along well with others? I know that was difficult before without medicine." My mom rolled her eyes again, but I ignored her.
"Yeah, it's a lot easier now." For a bit, my dad asked me questions about differences I was seeing since I started getting better, and we talked about things going on at home. My mother stared out the window with a bored look, like she was listening to two little kids speak.
"Roger, why are you indulging him?" She hissed, after a half hour.
"I can hear you." I said, frowning a little. It hurt to know that she wasn't supportive. I missed Austin, not having thought about his comment for the time I'd been with my parents. It seemed less important now.
"Come on, how can you be so blind?" He retorted, finally standing up for himself. She scowled.
"He just wants attention!"
"Oh my god, you can't be back on this again. Get your head out of your ass." Their voices were so cold, it made me question the stability of the relationship. Was I making them fight? Was all of this my fault? Feeling uncomfortable, I excused myself to go to the bathroom and scurried away to a hallway hidden pretty well in the back of the building. It wasn't far from the common room, and I knew my way back.
Sliding down the wall slowly, I pulled my knees into my chest. Why can't she understand? I loved my mom, and missed her immensely. She refused to believe me, though; she just thought I had ADHD or something. I just wanted my old life back, with my parents, living in my house, not feeling like a freak 24/7. I missed that feeling, that embraceable feeling of utter normality. It was... calming.
"Alan, what are you doing?" Once again today, Austin startled me. The hallway was dark, with no windows, and I hadn't seen him coming. I hadn't even heard him.
"Nothing!" Was my knee-jerk reaction. He chuckled, and I stood up.
"Are you okay in there?"
"Not really." I sighed, looking to the floor. His body was so close to mine where I was leaning up against the wall. I could feel the heat from him, or maybe I'd imagined it. It was like standing near an open oven, and I could feel how flushed my face was. It was a good thing the lighting was so low; he'd know I was nervous.
"What's wrong?" His warm, caring voice came. My head filled with thoughts of her scowl.
"My mom doesn't really get it." I murmured.
"Doesn't get what?" I chuckled dryly.
"My problems." I sighed, then looked back up to him. His eyes were so gorgeous, sparkling even in dim light like beautiful stones. I wanted to kiss him so badly; all I could think about was the way his lips would feel against mine.
"Advice, or hug?" He offered, smiling crookedly at me.
"Hug." I squeaked, and he enveloped my body into his strong arms. My arms snaked around his waist, my face pressed against his chest, and we stood there in the middle of the hallway in a warm embrace. Butterflies were practically taking over my entire body, and I felt a breathtaking energy connecting us. How can this not be it? It has to be. I pulled away a little, looking into his eyes. Our lips were so close, I could feel his breath against me. For a moment, I thought he was going to kiss me. But he didn't. He, very slowly, never breaking eye contact, pulled away.
"Just stand your ground out there. Be honest with them, hope for the best." He said softly, then placed his hand on the small of my back and lead me to the common room, where my parents were still bickering. Dazed, I walked over and sat down, and they stopped talking.
"Alan, we're going to cut this one a little short. Your father and I need to go." My mom muttered. I felt... enraged. Sick. So done.
"No, don't leave! I haven't seen you for a month!" I exclaimed. She looked surprised, then annoyed.
"I'm sorry, but we need to go." She got up, my dad following her with a pained expression. I clutched his hand, pulling him back.
"Dad, please, just stay another hour." He looked back at her, and sighed, breaking out of my grasp.
"We'll send you a letter." He said quietly, giving me a side hug and walking away. I felt little tears pinprick behind my eyes. Angry and full of sorrow, I wandered back to my room. Technically, I wasn't supposed to be here during the day without permission, but I couldn't care less right now. Throwing myself down onto the mattress, I crawled under the covers and cried softly. Nothing was going my way today.
•••
"Als, wake up." A hand pressed against my shoulder, and I forced my tear-sticky eyes open. Jake peered down at me softly, and I sat up. "What are you doing? Its lunchtime." I sighed, laying back down and curling into a little ball. I didn't want to leave the room. I wanted to stay in my bed; a warm, cushiony heaven.
"No." I moaned pulling the blanket back over my head. He laughed a little at me, sitting down on the edge of the mattress and laying his hand on my blanket-clad shoulder.
"What's wrong?"
"Don't want to talk about it."
"You sure?"
"Yes." I sighed again, and he pulled the covers up and crawled under them right next to me. Being in close proximity to him was nice, our bodies creating warmth beneath the blankets. He just pulled me closer, lips gently brushing my forehead, and cuddled my body to his.
"My parents didn't show up." He croaked, voice faltering, his nose brushing mine. Our knees pressed together.
"Mine did," I chuckled dryly, "and insulted me, started fighting, then left before I could even really spend any time with them." He frowned a little, leaning our foreheads together. "At least they came." I mumbled, and he sighed.
"I mean, it's not like I expected them to show up and tell me how much they missed me or something stupid like that. I just... kinda assumed they would come. Maybe that was stupid." He muttered.
"No, no, not at all. But you don't need them," I said, "you're better off." He nodded, smiling.
"Thanks." Our voices whispered now, breath warm against each other's lips. It was nice, and warm, and it felt more platonic love than anything. My eyes fluttered closed, and he leaned in, brushing our lips together. Slowly, we just moved our mouths together, kissing each other. His arms wrapped around my back, and mine around his neck. The mood was... healing. Does that make sense? We were trying to fix each other, with slow, warm kisses. To me, I guess it was unspoken that this was a friend kiss. Jake pulled me impossibly close to his body, molding our mouths together. Our tongues lapped at each other, and he gripped my back as we slowly massaged them against one another. For another half hour, we kissed softly until we slipped into sleep, full of emotion and toil. All of the anger, the disappointment inside of us, it was just for now. I didn't want to think about later.
____________________________
Guys I was really proud of this chapter. Please comment and tell me what you think! :)) it means a lot ✌