ALL THE LOVE WE LEAVE BEHIND

Chapter 50

~Blair~

My fingers traced the back of Dylan's skin, as his adoring eyes commanded me to fall asleep.

"It's five in the morning love. Get some sleep."

"I don't want to waste my moments with you." I fought like a little girl, as the warmth of his lips pressed themselves against my forehead, making my stomach all fuzzy on the inside.

"Blair. We have it everyday for the rest of our lives. You can rest."

His voice was like Orpheus's singing, as it danced in my ear, while he held my hand in the sunshine, making the ray reflect against the diamond ring I had wrapped around my fourth finger.

"I know we do." I blissfully shut my eyes, in the belief that everything really does turn out okay in the end.

"Blair woke up." Lexi's voice broke my dream as I awoke with a heavy lump in my throat.

"Don't tell me." I shrugged off the haze that my mind was clouded around, as my nostrils inhaled the ethanol scent that hospital floors had, while my mouth grew dry as a dessert in need of water.

"Do you need water? You look parched." Lexi asked- and I needed water badly, but my heart's longing for the man that had been mercilessly snatched from me was far more powerful, and so it won, as I nodded my head and asked about him.

She looked disheartened, as she insisted we have breakfast first, but after seeing how titchy I was in the morning, she let it go and directed me to a waiting area. There, I met the conventional couple, Dylan's parents. They were the perfect pair. I gathered that with one glance. They had the timeless look of a happy American family, and the Boujee attire to back it up. Esther carried herself more than well, with her hair freshly dyed and straightened, a neat everyday makeup look, and a Channel shawl wrapped around her, with silhouette heels to compliment that. Her husband, too, was well dressed, had a black Cartier watch around his right wrist, and had a stern business look on his face.

I didn't compliment either of them because this wasn't the time nor the place to do that. Plus, with my stomach groaning in hunger and my eyes craving his sight, I already had my mind occupied with more trivial problems, as we waited for the doctors to let us in.

It was a few minutes, after which the staff entered the room, and after getting clear instructions on leaving any personal belongings outside.. not overreacting... the usual stuff that I didn't bother paying attention to, we were let into the ward one by one.

I waited outside, with my heart leaping out of my chest, as my rib cage failed to contain it- stupid weak bones. I cursed, as his mother spent about 5 minutes in the room, and came out looking like a ghost. I was this close to asking her what it was that she saw, but realized I probably wouldn't like the answer. It was only when her husband got his turn and came out looking baffled that I questioned what monstrosity were they putting him through?

There was nothing worse than paralysis was there? If he didn't have that, then why were his parent's eyes being ripped apart to shreds?

"What's wrong with him?" I caught myself demanding, as his mother looked at me in horror.

"He's in a coma Blair. He's not waking up." I know I've used the term, the words were like knives digging into my brain, but this- this was actually that. I could feel a 360-degree blade penetrating itself inside me, as it twisted into my gut, letting out the little blood that I had left to let me survive.

I wasn't sure what the nurse told me after that, or how I got myself to go into the room, but once I was in, it was like the Earth had just begun to crumble itself into me. You know that feeling of suffocation that a person with claustrophobia gets when they're stuck in an elevator? This was that, but so much more.

My eyes practically went blind as they saw his frail face, sunken eyes, and a dry patch for a lip. He wasn't even breathing his own air- it was being supplied to him by an oxygen tank, deeming him worthless.

This was going to kill him. The words my mind spoke earlier haunted me, as I tried to grow accustomed to the butterfly cannula that was wrapped around his right palm, but I couldn't.

Where was his watch that I gifted him and why was he wearing this strip instead of that? Where were his black t-shirts and formal pants and why was he wrapped in some blue cloth instead of actual clothes? Where was his favorite meal of scrambled eggs and toast and why in the hell was he being fed to a tube, when they should be giving him proper breakfast? Why was he here lying in bed like a corpse when he should have been halfway across the world by now, taking in the sweet air of London...not the alcoholic wash of hospital floors.

"Dylan?" Somehow, someway my lips broke his name as I saw the wrinkle on his forehead, the pain in his eyes, and the stretch marks from the mask he was meant to be wearing.

I swear if there wasn't an entire nursing staff just outside, I would have ripped that mask from his face.

Couldn't they see it was suffocating him, that his unshaven beard was pinching him, that his arms were getting sore from lying around for 24 hours and that he was in pain. Could they not see that he was in agony- in total pandemonium.

"Dylan, wake up. They're saying some made up crap like you're in a coma." I hysterically laughed, as he didn't reply. "They're out of their mind Dylan. I know you're awake. I know this is some sick prank and you're going to wake up. Dylan, they're telling me that you're sleeping but I know you're not. I know you're going to wake up."

I caught myself repeating the words like a frantic maniac, as my mind went into a total and complete reversal, as everything- every kiss we shared to every time our eyes crossed each other, whirled into my head like a tornado, as I fell back.

The way his accent would sound early in the morning, while I had no energy to even talk. The way he managed to make me waffles the first morning, without me even asking. The way he made my birthday seamlessly perfect, even when it started off in a total abyss. The way his love for kids slowly transferred to me, as I began to see the beauty in young devils. The way he'd never tell me where he was taking me, and somehow it always managed to be something entirely unexpected- in the greatest way possible. The way he pushed me to use my paintbrush and show off my flare to the world. This way, even our fights benefited me, because they urged me to do better, to be better. The way he could kiss me and make time- the world and everything in between the skies- stop. The way he could make me feel heaven in one night, making me question where he had been all my life? The way he'd notice the little things, point out the big things, and the way he just knew what was on my mind, without me even having to say a single word. The way he came back for me...despite the odds being against him... he came back for me.

"Dylan!" I cried, as I clutched onto the bars of his bed, like an innocent prisoner in a locked cell. "Why did you ever come back for me?"

Without realizing, my cries had turned to screams, and within a moment I was being dragged out like an untamed lion lost in a circus, except this wasn't the circus. This was real life, and I wasn't just untamed. I was a beast, and I needed my Belle.