Vic
Today I've learned that hospital rooms are strange.
Before the events that occured yesterday, I had never spent a prolonged amount of time in a hospital room. I've never broken a bone, never had a surgery, never accidentally slit my wrist open—check that one off the worst bucket list ever.
There's this unshakeable stagnation to the room. It feels like a moment lost in time. I can hear the world moving around me—the doctors and the nurses rushing around outside the door, the cars passing by the window, the TV that's playing the Wizard of Oz which loses connection every few minutes, the heart rate monitor beeping next to me reminding me that I'm alive—and it all somehow feels so far away.
There's a disconnection with these white walls and it's surroundings. Minus the static burning of my wrist that doesn't seem to cease despite the pain meds the nurse has fed me, I feel tranquil. Alone with myself, and okay with it. For once the silence isn't deafening, for once it's welcomed.
I look to the TV screen as the picture regains connection. Dorothy's house spirals in the twister until it lands and everything is suddenly still. Then she silently makes her way through the house to the door which she then opens, revealing a land of technicolor.
I'm waiting for that moment. The moment I snap out of this mental sepia and colour returns to my life. But I'm not there yet. I haven't opened the door.
My bleeding arm was very much the tornado, and I'm Dorothy from Kansas who just went through a whirlwind, unaware of the wonders outside. And as if on cue, in walks Toto.
"Hey," Tony says, frowning at me.
I don't know why he's frowning, he's not the one stuck in here.
"Hey, what's up?" I say numbly, looking away from him. I can't look at him. The shame that would come with eye-contact would be too much for me.
He doesn't respond to my question, not that I wanted him to, as he takes a seat on the murky-green pleather chair. I watch him from my peripheral tensely hunch forward and cup his hands in one another.
"Vic, what happened?" he sighs softly.
My dry mouth becomes dryer as I swallow the little saliva I can muster up.
"Did you tell anyone?" I ask bluntly.
"No, I didn't. And I won't. But I need you to be honest with me." he explains.
My chest feels tight as Tony spills the chaos of the outside world into my safe little room.
"What happened?" he repeats.
I look down at the gause that covers my stitched up wound.
"I broke a glass. Had an accident." I lie.
"Bullshit! Come on, Vic. I need you to be honest with me. It's the least you could do." he snaps frustrated, but his voice cracks at the end.
It's that voice crack that makes me look at him and our irises align. His glassy eyes hit me with a tsunami of shame.
"It was an accident." I admit, giving in.
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Scars (Sequel to Cuts) - Kellic // boyxboy
Fanfiction- Sequel to Cuts- Kellin struggles to recover from his trauma and Vic struggles to see his husband in pain, leading to a bad decision that has catastrophic consequences. With Kellin's happiness his only priority, Vic figures that their relationship...
