A terrorist attack takes place in Canada during the widely loved politician's wedding. The horrible incident leaves hundreds of people dead, but the politician's son survives. Luckily, he meets a gorgeous med student in the hospital of who he just...
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july 4th toronto
BRIGHT RAYS OF SUNSHINE CAUSED MY SLEEPINESS TO DISAPPEAR, therefore I cautiously opened the lids of my eyes and rubbed them to gain proper sight. From the corners of my eyes, I saw a face with its mouth a bit open, eyes shut together, and dark, messy hair. Within the fraction of a second, those closed eyes distended and looked at me with dilated pupils, giving me the impression of him being extraordinarily anxious. A few milliseconds later, his tensed shoulders sagged and his peepers became sleepy-looking all over again, and he started giggling. The fact that his giggling sounded higher-pitched than the averaged man's, made me smile even wider.
"I've never woken up next to a woman in a hospital," he said, a big smirk decorating his face, "guess I can stripe that off my bucket list."
"I must've fallen asleep," I excused myself as I climbed out of his bed. So unprofessional, I thought to myself, sleeping with a patient. Actually sleeping with a patient.
"It's okay, beside the fact that you almost succeeded in crushing my leg that's already broken."
I took my hair out of the ponytail, shaking it to make it look a little less stupid, and figured Hart couldn't take his eyes off me. But when I caught his stare, he didn't bother to look away, instead he just smiled. He always smiled.
"Do you feel better?" he asked.
I nodded. "Thank you for comforting me."
"Well, I owe you; you've been comforting me ever since I came here."
"Hart, it's my job." I couldn't believe I said that again, why was I so anxious about agreeing on the fact that I had been taking care of him like I did of no other patient in this hospital, why was I ashamed of showing him that it wasn't only because of my work, but out of compassion?
Suddenly, the door flew open and with a startled facial expression, I turned around to see the invader of privacy. It was almost like life couldn't get any worse when I realized the invader was Dennis. He frowned his brows at us, scanned the area as if it was a crime scene to find all the clues to what had happened, then looked at Hart who obviously looked like he had just woken up, and eventually his suspicion-smelling, brown eyes landed on me, unapologetically going up and down my body. I hadn't seen myself, but just knew that I looked like, indeed, someone who had just awoken from an utterly comfortable, deep sleep.
"Nova," he spoke with his deep, ever-so masculine voice, where after he looked down at the watch hugging his wrist, "you're never here this early. Don't you have school today?"
There honestly was no point in lying. Dennis already knew what exactly happened in this room, the man was too smart for his dumb act.
