Until the end

2

Lilah

I wake up in an unfamiliar room.

Where am I?

I scan my surroundings, trying to work out where I am.

"You're in the hospital" A deep voice speaks from beside me.

I either said that out loud, or this person just read my mind.

"Wh-what?" I turn my head to be met with the most gorgeous boy I have ever seen. His mesmerising green eyes connect with mine as I look him confusedly.

"The hospital, you passed out in the middle of the road."

Fuck.

"Oh." I reply, taking in a breath of air before speaking again.

"Wh-ho-" my breathing becomes heavy as I begin to question but I can't get my words out.

"Hey, it's okay."The boy says calmly. He stands up quickly from his chair and walks over to me.

He takes my hands in his, the cool touch of his rings against my skin makes shivers run down my spine.

"You're okay" he whispers softly, reassuring me it is.

Even though I know it isn't. But I can pretend.

"Thank you" I say whilst taking in a breath.

A nurse enters the room quietly, she comes over to me and starts to remove the tubes and wires that are I didn't even realise were attached to me.

I flinch at the touch but I hope she doesn't notice.

"Miss, you have someone here to see you." The nurse tells me.

"Ok. Thank you. Could I just have a minute first if that's ok?" I speak hoarsely.

"Yes, of course miss. Take as much time as you need." She says before walking out of the room.

I turn my attention back to the mysterious boy. Only to see he is already looking at me. Those beautiful green eyes. I could get lost in them forever.

"I-I'm sorry, I never properly thanked you for saving me. I mean, you really shouldn't have because you probably had somewhere else to be and I stopped you from going there and now you have wasted a load of time sitting in a hospital waiting for a poor little girl to wake up and—"

"Shhh, love. You don't need to thank me." He says putting a finger to my lips.

Fuck me.

I open my mouth to apologise but am cut off before I can.

"—Or apologise, you needed help."

When the door opens again, I expect another nurse to enter. But they do not. Instead, I am met with a woman. Her hair is tied neatly back into a bun with streaks of grey running through chestnut brown. She carries a briefcase and wears a pristine grey suit.

If I didn't know better, I would guess that this is my social worker.

I am not wrong.