Olivia Vitale is trying her best to get her life back on track. After escaping an abusive relationship, she moves back to her home city of Joy. She promises her roommate Carol to take it slow with relationships. That promise becomes harder to keep a...
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« 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑺𝒊𝒙: 𝑳𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝑵𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝑷𝒊𝒄𝒌-𝑼𝒑 »
𝐎𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐚 can't stop herself from looking up every time she hears the growling of a large engine as she's walking the streets of Joy. It's stupid, but she expects it to be Bucky. Carol groans in annoyance every time, but Olivia gives her an innocent giggle.
During her shift at the hospital, it only gets worse. By the end, she's almost hoping he'll show up with a friend of his who's gotten cut or shot just so she can see him. It's so far from healthy and so stupid. Even now, while doing the bloodwork on a young guy who came in for alcohol poisoning, Bucky is the only thing on her mind. In the drunken rush, the man somehow broke his right arm and bent a couple of ribs on the same side.
"Where's the... the bathwroom?" The man slurs out, but they've already given him a urinary catheter.
"Do you feel like puking?" Olivia carefully asks, and the man looks up at her with a drunken smile.
"You're pretty," he giggles and tries to reach out for her.
"Okay," she laughs and turns to Catherine, a nurse who's been at St. Francis for decades. "Pass me the bucket?"
"Yeah, here," Catherine says with a smile. Her face wrinkles up whenever she smiles, and Olivia is reminded how beautiful age can look. Her mom was always scared to look old. Catherine wears her grey hair proudly and shows that a lot of it comes down to how you act rather than look.
"Thanks," Olivia replies and takes the bucket with a disposable bag in it. She turns back to the man. "There's a bucket right by the edge of the bed here, so if you need to puke, just put your head over the edge."
"Okay," the man drunkenly hums, and Olivia shakes her head, finishing up taking his blood sugar. ER shifts are always the worst, and they're the majority of what she has.
A knock sounds on the metal pole holding up the separating curtains between the beds. Noah leans against the metal, his dimpled hawkish face drawn in a smile behind the curtain of black hair.
"I'm taking over for you," he says with a warm voice, and Olivia breathes out in relief.
"Oh, thank the lord. I've been here long enough already," she chuckles, and Catherine comes over to take the rest of the tests.
"I heard what happened after your last shift," Noah kindly says.
"How'd you hear about that?"
"The girls are catty," he laughs.
"Those gossipy witches," she chuckles in agreement.
They wander out of the ward and into the green-striped, white hallway with grey floors, a thin streak of blue above the green. It's a failed attempt to try and brighten up the eerie feeling that hospitals usually give. Rather misplaced, in her opinion. Nothing can break up the feels that hospitals have. There's too much hurt and death here.
