The War on Love

Chapter 9

*Three months later*

I was finally discharged from the hospital. God. The white walls had really started to get on my nerves. And the nurses. They were annoying. Well, except the one who braided my hair every morning since I can't anymore.... Guess I should explain... I don't have a right arm anymore. It's just a stump. I am being forced, unwillingly might I add, to learn to do everything with my left hand. Damn. Do you know how hard it's going to be to put jeans on tomorrow morning?!

Thomas was driving me home. He has refused to leave my side ever since I woke up for good. He pulled up into my driveway and parked behind my car. He is out of the car in seconds and is running to my side before I get my seatbelt undone. He opens my door and helps me out.

I scowl. "Thomas, I can stand just fine. I'm missing an arm not a leg."

"Just trying to be a gentleman, love," he says, intertwining his fingers with mine. Yeah, we got together. Doesn't feel all that different. Except that he's now about a thousand times more protective and the random kisses he gives my cheek, right along the scar making it tickle slightly.

I let go of his hand, fishing my keys from my back pocket. I unlock the front door. Paris instantly greets me. I smiled and stroked the fur between her ears. "Hey, girl. Did you miss me?" She barks in answer and I chuckle.

Thomas fiddles with my dogtag still around his neck. He won't give it back. I tried stealing it after he went to sleep one night, but he woke up and took it back the minute it was over his head. He had pried the chain from my fingers, lightly smacked me on the head, and slipped them back around his neck. I want my tags back. But I have a feeling that won't be happening...

I step through the doorway and he follows. He sets on the couch, his elbows resting on his knees and his fingers fumbling with his bottom lip. I arch an eyebrow and begin the tedious task of making coffee.

I sit next to him and nudge him with my shoulder. "You okay?"

"Yes. Fine, love," he says absently.

I furrow my eyebrows. "You sure?"

"Love, I promise you, I'm alright," he says chuckling, resting a hand on my knee. "You're more worried about me than you are yourself! And I'm not the one who just got out of the hospital."

"You're constantly worried about me. Someone has to worry about you."

He rolls his eyes. "Don't worry about me, love. I will always be okay," he says with a soft smile.

"You keep telling yourself that. Cream and sugar?" I ask, pouring two cups of coffee.

"Yes, please." I open the cabinet where the cream and sugar is. I frown up at it. It's on the top shelf. All the way in the back. Great....

I turn around and hop slightly so I'm sitting on the counter. I stand cautiously and grab the bag off sugar and powdered cream stuff.

"Emmalyn! What the bloody hell are you doing up there!" Thomas yells at me, standing below me, his arms over his chest.

"Uh... Making coffee?" I say with a nervous laugh.

"Get down from there."

"Fine," I sigh and jump from the counter, landing elegantly on my feet. I start putting together the coffee.

"You need to be more cautious, love," he whispers in my ear.

"Why? I was fine, Thomas."

"But what if you hurt yourself? Then what are you going to do?"

"Get back up. Slap a band aid on. Then continue on with my life."

He crosses his arms and sighs.

"I'm not helpless, Thomas. Okay, maybe I'm not able to do everything as easily as some people. That doesn't mean I can't do it! Stop treating me like I'm the only thing keeping the world turning!"

"I'm not SAYING your helpless! I'm just worried about you!"

"What are you going to do when you go back to London, huh?" I argue.

"What?"

"Oh, c'mon, Thomas! We both know what this has to turn into! I know you're not about to drop everything in London and stay in Louisiana! What are you going to do then? Go back to whatever the hell you were in a few months ago just because I don't answer a phone call or a text message?!"

He sighs and wraps his arms around my waist. "That's the thing. I don't want to leave you here on your own." He rests his chin on my shoulder. His lips reaching dangerously close to my neck. "I have a lovely home in London. It's much too big for one person though. We could take Paris with us, if you wish. Come to London with me, Emmalyn."

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A/N: Duh-duh-DUH!!!! CLIFFHANGER!!!!!!! I kinda did a time skip. I had this scene in my head and yeah... Okay. Today, in honor of our lovely military girl, I forced myself to do most things using ONLY my left hand, to truly understand (it's really hard to put pants on....). As always, comment/vote!!! -med_01