Outcasts

Promises and heartbreak

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

First of all, forgive the delay, I am so sorry. I love you all. I hope you understand.
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SOPHIA
There were blaring, fluorescent light bulbs flickering above her bed. The sterile stench of hospital burned her nostrils, waking her from her slumber state.
At first she panicked, for she thought she was alone only to be calmed by the reassuringly tale-tell smell of her boyfriend's fragrance.
"Robbie? Is that you?" she managed to shriek out, her voice a few octaves higher than her already whiny tone.
She must've looked like a mess, an ashen-faced, fainting girl with an ever-changing mood swings only a pure soul like Robbie could stand.
When silence responded to her panic began to resurface again.
He'd never left her alone, not for a minute. Not since he was granted the position of her personal bodyguard.
The room was ice cold, chillingly burning her limbs.
There was a needle, and it pumped translucent liquid into her veins. Sophia was about to take it off when there was a subtle knock on the door.
A grim faced boy seemed to have replaced Robbie's usual placid face.
His lips were pressed into a thin line drown downwards, obviously thin and displeased.
His eyes showed nothing but anger. It drawled a shiver all the way from her lower back and to her neck.
He'd never looked so...displeased. His usual placid expression replaced by a scowl.
It was too late to try and pretend to be asleep still, so when lacking another option, she pulled herself upright and mentally prepared herself for yet another of his lecture sessions.
"The doctors called your mother. They're worried about your health Miss Addison. Your mother is on her way."
He stood at the foot of her bed, his hands on his pockets.
She cleared her throat before speaking. "You shouldn't have worried her, she's already on the verge of losing her shit. Her favorite patient just died, Robbie."
She knew sometime was wrong with him, but how could he possibly know?
Did he know she didn't eat? That she vomited all the food she ate?
It was impossible, she'd been meticulously cautious about it, waiting for him to leave, being as quiet as she possible could.
He couldn't know, he just couldn't.
"Are you mad at me, Robbie?" she asked him, half dubious, half intrigued.
Robbie's bloodshot eyes gave him away, he'd crying, also the raspy of his voice came out all wrong.
"Of course I'm mad with you, I'm fucking pissed at you. You scared the shit out of me, Soph. I thought you were dead. Now that I think of it did I know it was the stupidest thing to think of but you should've seen your face as I carried you to the car.
He closed his eyes, sighing. "You wouldn't wake up. I begged you to but you didn't. Why is this happening to you, baby?"
Sophia's lip trembled in synchronization with his. She outspread her arms only to have him rush to her.
Without much of a second thought, he climbed in with her and buried his face in her neck.
Sophia smiled fondly of him as she covered him with the horrid white hospital sheets.
She usually wasn't that affectionate but he seemed to need it, and she knew he loved her. The only one that ever cared for her.
"Please, take your pills. Eat properly. I can't stand to see you like this."
He took her face in his hands and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
"I love you."
Sophia smiled, she loved to hear him say it. She reveled in his words.
There were no lies lurking behind that promise.
"Me, too. I love you, too." she said.
Both of them closed their eyes, Sophia fell asleep deeply. But Robbie didn't, he stayed wide awake listening intently to her deep even breathing.
Afraid she wouldn't wake.

CHELSEA

The smoke and klaxons were a background noise to the pair of them as they walked calmly down the street.
Chelsea, seemed to glow, smiling brightly at everything Nestor said, and well just feeling flamboyant because he drawled that reaction from her.
It was nice for a change, odd but nice nonetheless.
Passersby stared at them, both with awe and with wonder. Chelsea noted, Nestor rubbed the back of his neck at times of embarrassment.
"So, are you a homeless or what?" She asked, half smiling, half joking.
With a smile, he answered.
"Well the gym's a short drive from home, actually...you could say I do live in another's place for now. I've had a few problems finding a job but I manage." He confessed.
A little embarrassed to both admitting it to someone else that he was kind of...homeless,jobless and well, poor.
But it was ridiculous, he was a Ferrer!
"Oh, I see. I'll tell you what, the hotdogs are on me." She stated firmly, fishing in her clutch and finding a few hundreds bucks.
Her smile fell a little when his gaze lowered downwards.
"Of course not, they're on me. That's agreed by default, I gather."
Chelsea took his wallet but took no money.
"We aren't in the seventeenth century, Mister righteous. I can invite you dinner. Perhaps you can buy me the dessert?"
Nestor decided she was right, besides 2 bucks weren't that big if a deal.