Misconceptions | 5sos

Six

Sort of double update..? 😬

I feel this book is becoming total trash and I should just stop it now before it gets any worse.

I'm hoping this chapter is better and makes much note sense than the last. If not then I'll probably delete.

(Not proof read. Sorry for any mistakes)
...

When I awoke the following morning my head throbbed vibrantly, pair that with the disorientation and slight dizziness I was experiencing, I knew it probably wasn't a good thing.

I vaguely remember hitting my head some point last night during the 'brawl' with Jackson. So maybe that's what I was experiencing, the aftermath of it all.

Yet most of it still felt like a blur at the same time. Like I couldn't exactly pinpoint what happened.

I nearly didn't recognize myself in the mirror, covered in bruises and scrapes. The events of last night playing over and over in my head. Each time Jackson left a constellation.

After applying what seemed like layers and layers of concealer to my marked up face, I deemed myself covered up enough that I wouldn't receive any questions.

Somehow I knew that wouldn't be the case.

Foregoing the thought of driving due to my symptoms, I knew that either Jackson could take me or I'd have to walk. But a quick glance at the clock made realize I'd have no choice, and would have to use the latter.

To say the walk to the hospital was tough would be an understatement. It was hell. Nearly every step I took made me want to scream from the pain I was feeling from all the soreness.

It wouldn't surprise me if I had some type of broken rib or bruised at the very least. Sometimes I truly underestimated just how strong Jackson was or how much power he has.

But he only acted this way out of love, right?

I was relieved when I saw the familiar building come into my line of vision, especially because I only had five minutes to spare before I had to clock on.

I was also surprised to find Michael in the locker room as well, already expecting him to be doing rounds or something.

"No offense but you really look awful. Did you walk here?"

I laughed lightly hoping to make it sound like less of a lie, "Yeah, my car wasn't working." I wasn't about to tell him the real reason I didn't drive, especially considering he was a doctor and we were in a hospital.

He looked puzzled, "Why didn't you take an Uber or taxi?"

How was I supposed to tell him that I wasn't allowed to have access to my own money? So I stayed silent instead, focusing on putting my stuff into my locker before standing up.

I was about to walk away when I suddenly my vision began to double and I fell dizzy once more, immediately forcing myself to sit down once again.

"Do you have like aspirin or something? My heads been killing me since I woke up," I laughed lightly.

"I guess I can try to get you something. Are you sick?"

I held my head as I glanced up at him, "No, it's just my head that's bothering me quite a bit. Plus some dizziness and slight disorientation."

He reached into the pocket of his lab coat and grabbed what looked like a pen light, "Have you hit your head recently?" Immediately he shone the light into my eyes, making me squint and push him away because of how bright it was. "Definite concussion, come on."

He helped me stand up and began to lead me out the door, leaving me to believe the he was just helping my get to my desk because of what I was experiencing. Apparently that wasn't the case as we passed that and instead went into an empty exam curtain.

"What are you doing?" I nervously questioned. "I'm supposed to be working right now."

"You have a concussion, I'm not allowing you to work for the moment, it'll be too much. Besides I need to page Ash about this."

My eyes widened at the mention of the trauma surgeon. He already questioned so much about what went on between Jackson and I, which he has a point to considering he treated the majority of my injuries, but still. I didn't want him to know any more than he did.

I practically begged him to not tell Ashton about this, yet he must've chosen to ignore me as he grabbed the item out of his lab coat anyways.

While we waited for Ashton to arrive, to which I disagreed to paging him in the first place, I reluctantly allowed Michael to at least get my vitals.

I was particularly agitated when he made me take my sweater off, claiming the fabric was too thick for an accurate blood pressure reading.

Personally I thought it was a bunch of bs, yet didn't question him about it.

Nor did I miss the look of concern he gave once he saw the scattered bruises on my arms.

He had just finished when Ashton appeared, clearly confused as to why I was sitting in an exam bed or why I was covered in bruises; probably the latter.

"Did Jackson do this to you?" He asked, the clear tone of annoyance heard in his voice.

I stayed silent for a moment contemplating if I should tell him what happened last night or tell him the entire truth.

Yet I couldn't, knowing that would basically be betrayal to Jackson. So instead I let another lie slip out.

"No, he loves me."

And for the second time I wondered who I was trying to convince.