Sweet Devil [BL]

Chapter 20. Hospitalization

Lying on a hospital bed, Misha glared at the white ceiling as though he wanted to pierce a hole in it with his eyes. A few seconds later, he huffed, then rolled out of bed. The moment his bare feet landed on the icy floor, Misha couldn't help but grimace, looking around for his slippers. He almost had to put the small room upside-down before finally finding said slippers under the plastic chair.

Then, Misha straightened his back, tugging his clothes closer to his body. Although he knew it was only his imagination, it still felt like an eerie breeze was continually blowing under his hospital gown, giving him the impression that he was butt naked. It even made him wonder if he hadn't forgotten to put on his underwear—he hadn't.

In addition to being utterly ugly, the damn clothes always fell apart whenever he moved, and he had to battle with the cords on his back to tie them into a bow. Was there anything more impracticable than this? Did it look like he had hands growing on his back? How on earth was he supposed to tie his gown without dislocating his shoulders?!

And even though the gown Misha wore was for kids, it was still too big for him, and the wide collar always exposed one of his shoulders when it wasn't his collarbone. It made his mouth twitch every time. Was it too much to ask for clothes that actually covered his body...?

Of course, it was!

Misha sighed, and again, he pulled up his collar in a useless attempt to fix his appearance a little, wondering if he shouldn't just wrap himself in his bedsheets.

'I never thought I'd have to wear one of these ugly back-tying gowns again. Gosh, the one who created them was either a pervert or an idiot!' Misha winced his heart, silently mourning the hospital gown that would be created in a few years; these kimono-inspired gowns at least opened at the front, not the back, and they thus considerably reduced the risk of exposing one's rear.

In any case, be it the old one or the future one, Misha still didn't want to wear any of them. Not only because they were uncomfortable but also because they almost always involved a trip to the hospital. And strangely enough, Misha wasn't that fond of visiting the hospital, even though he frequently came by to say hi in his past life, either because he had fought with drunkards or because he had done something stupid while drunk—like jumping down a roof.

Now that Misha thought about it, some injuries had been gruesome beyond words, and some had left deep, white scars on his skin—broken glasses, beers, and pool cues could become quite scary if used well. Ah, man, the number of times a nurse had to stitch his wounds in the middle of the night....

'But I was at least admitted to the hospital for a good reason back then! Now, I'm stuck in a hospital bed without even being sick! That damn fever is driving me nuts!'

Would the doctors even let him go home one day? Misha couldn't help but doubt. The poor souls would never find out what was wrong with his body, no matter how many tests they made him go through or how much they racked their brains over his condition. Unless one of them traveled back in time and knew what consequences it implied, the result would always be the same: no virus, no disease, no lesions, no explanation.

But if his fever never went down, wouldn't Misha be stuck in this damned place forever? The simple thought sent shivers down his spine. He was admitted only a few days ago, and Misha was already so bored that he was on the verge of insanity! And his three roommates sure didn't help him improve his mood!

Biting his thumb, Misha pondered how to convince his mother to bring him home. He was still thinking about such matters when a gentle voice rang in the room.

"Sweetheart, where are you going?"

Misha turned his head, and his eyes met with the petite figure of his mother. Her blonde hair was slightly disheveled, loosely tied at the crown of her neck, while dark circles hung under her eyes, reflecting her restless sleep from the past few days. In one of her hands, there was a steaming coffee. At its sight, Misha couldn't help but frown. Too much caffeine wasn't good for the body, and his mother was already at her third cup when it wasn't even noon.