At The Tip Of Your Fingers

- Chapter 3 -

I was woken up by a slight discomfort around my arm crease. Despite the pain an nausea still splitting my brain in half, I was feeling fine. I was covered in fresh linen and my head was supported by a soft pillow. I might not have been heaven, but it wasn't far off. I appreciated the extra comfort for a few seconds before everything came back to me. The cultural centre, Thomas, the bathroom, my faint...my appointment.

Oh god, what time was it? I had to get up, I definitely could not afford being late. I rose hurriedly and pain bloomed in my arm. I glanced at my arm and noticed someone had put me on a drip in my sleep. I finally understood where I was. The pale green walls and the smell of disinfectant, typical for an hospital, should have ticked me off way earlier. As I thought nothing could get worse, Thomas crossed the threshold of the room. I rolled my eyes and prayed to the sky this was a nightmare and that I would wake up soon. I had not fainted, I had not missed my appointment and Thomas was not there, less than two meters away from the bed in which I was kept prisoner. But my prayer went unheard and he started talking:

- Ah! You're finally awake.

- What do you think you're doing here, Thomas?

- You fainted in the middle of my exhibition, I was feeling a bit guilty, I already knew I was an incredibly talented artist, but I did not know my talent could make cute girls lose consciousness.

- You are wrong, it wasn't in the middle of the exhibit, but in the bathroom. It has nothing to do with you.

- You are right. Is it a special habit of yours to just lay on the ground and catch a nap?

- You figured me out! Every time I lay down like that I am woken up by a handsome young man. Why should I deprive myself?

- Am I dreaming or are you flirting with me?

-You are right, the sun really did get to my head.

I put two fingers in my mouth and pretended to puke. He could not repress a laugh, and I could relax a little bit. I was at the hospital after fainting in a public bathroom, I most certainly missed my appointment and I would soon be homeless, but in that instant I felt almost good. I enjoy this moment of respite, let my head fall back on the pillow and close my eyes. I had not felt such calm in a long time. There was no reason for me to be this carefree, but I did not care.I just wanted to appreciate the softness of the moment. Maybe it was only because I hadn't flirted and laughed with a man in a long time.

I had never been a very pretty girl, but I always enjoyed using my charms on the opposite sex. I even found it a bit ridicule how easy women could make heads spin, even from men otherwise thought of as smart and strong. I loved playing the naive and silly little girls who pretended not to notice when they made an inuendo. People then called me "adorable" or "refreshing" while I was laughing inside of their credulity. That was another acknowledgement of the factitious life I had built around me, but it was frankly pleasant to go back to this absence of any concerns. I had almost forgotten Thomas was there before he recalled himself to me:

-You scared us, you know.

He explained that Robert, the janitor, had found me unconscious and had first thought of a suicide attempt. He then ran in the exhibition room shouting that the corpse of a young woman was laying in the bathroom at the top of his lungs. Thomas, according to himself, ran after me with fear in his chest. He had checked my pulse and was relieved to feel it still beating. He had someone call the fire brigade who arrived a short ten minutes later. At first they didn't let him ride in the truck, but he obviously insisted obnoxiously enough that the firefighters let him ride to the hospital with me.

- Thanks, I said simply, What time is it? What happened?

-I think it is around 3. And I don't know anything else, I'm not from your family and did not know your last name so the doctors would not tell me a thing. I could stay only because they didn't know who to call. I tried checking your phone contacts, but it was locked. Sorry I went through your stuff. Do you want me to call someone for you?