THE BLONDE WAS sitting in the waiting room. She was fine by the doctors, being looked over once more for five minutes before being sent on her way. However, she decided to stay, for the reason she lived was lying on a hospital bed a wall over. It felt all the same - something she never wanted to have to admit again.
She was all clean on the outside - no cuts or bleeds or fractures or wounds. Nothing needed stitching up - besides the heart beating inside her body, barely beating. Her life had crumbled in a matter of minutes, as the only thing she had left back at home, one of the only people the girl had whole-heartedly believed she could trust, had stabbed her in the gut. It was almost literal too, if the boy always by her side hadn't have kept their promise.
Tara and Sam were fine, covered in blood, sure, but fine. They were in hospital beds too, but, on the bright side, in better conditions then they'd been in during the past. At one point, Tara had even been presumed dead.
Juliet was alone in the waiting room, shoes smudging against the ground as her leg bounced. She'd tried to push her hand onto it, keep it steady like she wanted her heartbeats and breaths to be, yet it didn't work. She didn't have that power like Ethan did, but he had bigger issues to worry about.
However, all the boy could think about was her. He couldn't imagine what it was like: a mother trying to slaughter people in front of her child's eyes, including the child themself, all while blaming them for the tragic death of their father. It didn't help when it was from an uncurable disease like cancer. Arguably, that just made it worse.
So, he sat there, finger hooked up to a machine he didn't know as he listened to his heart beat through the monitors. He was fine, really, as the wound in his back on on the side of his arm didn't even hurt anymore. It was nothing like his heart, that'd been burnt from the fragments of what could've been. There was a moment, a moment that spanned on longer than it should've, when he thought he was going to die. He truly believed he would take his last breath on his knees, knife in his back, as Juliet watched with a broken heart and a shuddering breath - one he would never take.
"I'm fine," the curly-haired boy sighed, drained, as the doctor walked back into the room with a clipboard in hand.
"I know," the man smiled, finally glancing away as the light from the window reflected against his small glasses. Ethan, looking up from the white blankets draped over his legs, widened his eyes with raised brows. He didn't believe it, the man's job was to keep him there. Why was he letting him go early?
"So, I can leave?" He grinned, cheeks brightening in the gloominess of the room. The doctor tilted his head as if he was considering it before finally letting his eagerness break, nodding towards the door with a quirk of his brow.
Ethan jumped out of bed with an excited mutter, running past the doctor in his hospital clothing with a bright smile. "Thank you, man! Thank you!" He cheered, pulling open the door without a second glance. The doctor shook his head as the door slammed shut, pushing the glasses further up his nose as he scribbled on the plain sheet of paper.
"Julie!" The boy cheered as soon as he'd passed through the doorway, glancing around the room to find it mostly empty - all but one seat holding the one person he wanted to see. She looked up in an instant, face falling before growing twice in size. She'd never felt more relieved than that moment.
"Oh my god, Ethan!" She pushed herself away from her seat, running towards the boy. She jumped into his arms, the boy spinning her in the air as he let out an excited laugh. He was overjoyed to see her face, to see her, in the artificial light of the empty room.
When he finally let her feet meet the floor again, he let his lips melt into hers in an instant. They did nothing but that for a good two minutes, savoring the taste of their lips in the middle of the hospital. Nobody was around, not a single soul, so they took advantage of it. They knew it wouldn't last.
When they broke apart, they relaxed. They relaxed in one anothers arms, still standing in the centre of the hall as they bathed in each other's presence. The two sisters were in the same hospital wing, beds pressed close to one another so they could talk through their pain. Juliet understood, because Sam had acted out of the same rage that'd fueled herself. It had given her the momentum she lacked, the strength she needed, and the thoughts that made her move. She never wanted to feel that empty again.
"Have you heard about your mum?" Ethan asked, tilting his head to press his lips into the girl's hair. She stared off at the plain, beige plaster of the wall, posters dotting its edging along the hall between the many doors. She disassociated for a moment, watching her body from afar as her thoughts ran wild while her body ran ragged. She was a tired girl, a drained one, but she would do nothing to change that as she stood in the arms of the person she liked; she loved.
"Yeah," she muttered, her soul flying back into her in a rush. Her eyes stayed staring at the wall while the boy holding her watched the lives of many out the window, however, keeping his attention solely trained on her.
She blinked once, trying to force down her strong emotions, yet she couldn't help but let them loose. She blinked again. "She's dead."
And then she smiled.
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