You're trouble

0.9

His Point of View.

Hospitals. You could basically smell the death in the place. It was by far the most miserable place to be. But of course I was there at least 2 hours a day. My hands played with inside of my slippery pockets as I shuffled through the hospital hallway. My feet kicked at the ground nervous. Peoples muffled voices surrounding me, their stares obviously glued on me with no intentions of looking away. The staff here now knew me as a regular and every once and I while they would greet me with a somewhat pity voice, 'hi Luke.'

A nurse in a white gown and black slippers working outside of Frans room stood at the door restlessly flicking through papers. As her gaze found mine she smiled revealing a kind faced woman.

She nodded towards the door gesturing that it was welcome for me to go inside. As I thanked her I noticed she had a freaky featured resemblance to Missy Higgins. She looked maybe in her late 30's.

'How's she improving?' I mutter, quiet enough for only her ears. Her face is expressionless and her eyes are unreadable before they leave from mine. The silence lingered in the air for at least a minute before she finally spoke.

'Visiting hours are open 24/7 now.' She says with a monotone voice, still not answering my question. I realised then, the nurse was trying to change the subject. Fran wasn't improving one bit, or at least she was still in the same condition.

I cross my arms over my chest trying to cover that my body just physically tensed. I cough uncomfortable, why couldn't she just lie to me and say that she was getting so much better.

'Look, I wish I could tell you that she's doing fine, but obviously I can't share any false or undiscovered information yet.' She says as her eyes flicker with an emotion if somewhat sadness.

I nod respectfully as I pass her into the room, ending the conversation, I hope I didn't come of harsh, but I wasn't in the mood to socialise right now.

The chill that was already surrounding me increased more as I made my way closer to the white dull bed, dull room, which made me pull my sweater into 'sweater paws'.

I squat on the nearest seat and pull it close to the bed while reaching for Frans little delicate hand.

I kiss it clenching my stomach that poured with guilt and sadness. My eyes crinkled shut, stopping the tears that would've formed if not forced to stop.

Pussy, guys don't cry.

But this, this was worth crying over. Her. My baby girl.

I think back to earlier this afternoon when the girl Grace happen to bump into Ashton, is it weird that I wished she had've bumped into me? I was hoping I would get a chance to talk to her again. But then again, I'm relieved I didn't, it saved me from a loss of words and awkward babbling. Dammit Luke.

You're so awkward, she probably doesn't even remember you.

If my conscious was morphed into someone's body I would punch them in the face simultaneously.

My mind came back into focus and reality knocked me into realisation that someone was at the door. My brother.

He smiled over at me.

'I thought you might turn up, I've been here all day.' He said while he held a plastic white cup in his hand and came to grab a seat next to me. 'The cafeteria is just as depressing as this room. Everyone's so,' he paused gulping, 'silent.'

There was no needed response because the silence that filled this room occurring right now proved it.

We watched beautiful Fran for what felt like forever, her pale white lipped face, yet her lips almost seemed like they were set in a smile. Fran was always stronger than me, and I wasn't ashamed to admit that.

Grace also has amazing smile.

Shut up conscious.

The next thing I knew I was falling asleep picturing Graces and Frans perfect smile.