Her Cowboy

Chapter 24

"Annabeth!"

My consciousness slowly flickered like a candle's flame. Then another gust of pain and weakness blew it out.

"Annabeth!"

I groaned as I struggled to wake up my senses, even though every part of my body protested. 

My eyes opened slowly. It was dark, I thought for a second they were still shut, but I blinked a few times. My head hurt—it hurt really bad. Wait, no it was my arm. My arm hurt really bad. And my hip?

My vision was blurry—I felt like I was looking through a kaleidoscope, but it was only dark navy, black, grey, and a strikingly white color that speckled the array of blurriness.

My head pounded. I felt like I had earmuffs on.

"Annabeth!"

The voice was closer now, but still shouted like I was in a tunnel. Where was I? What was happening?

I cracked my eyes open again, just barely, and saw a very large figure barreling toward me in the darkness. A slow blink, and then the figure had stopped, and a smaller one jumped off it, coming closer to me.

Was I dreaming?

My eyes closed again. I heard my name, but it sounded like the person's voice was dragged through molasses. Hands grabbed me, then wrapped around me. I didn't realize how cold I was until warmth flooded me as the person gathered me up in a close embrace.

I was so tired. My eyes still wouldn't open. My arm hurt. I wanted to talk but I couldn't make my mouth work.

I felt so peaceful, so safe, in this person's arms. I think it was okay to just go back to sleep now. Right before I did, a hand gently touched my face, and almost as if I dreamed it, lips touched my own, softly but desperately.

Then I fell into darkness once more.

— - — @ — - —

You don't know how frustrating it is being half-awake.

My conscious would flick on and off like a dying candle, and each time I could hear people talking, yet I couldn't respond. I wanted to say something, but every time I tried, nothing came out.

Slowly I regained control over my other senses. The next to come after me hearing was feeling. There was a soft cloth over me, keeping me warm. A sharp, pungent smell that washed over me and it took me a few seconds to recognize-rubbing alcohol.

I swallowed tentatively, tasting stale spit and something else. Something bitter that left an aftertaste. Medicine was my guess. Why?

Wait. The trail ride. I was lost. Porkpie bolted and I fell—my arm.

My mom's gonna kill me.

With that thought raging about in my head, my eyes flew open, searching wildly around.

A bright, blinding light hit my irises, sending a light ache of pain to my head. The little jab seemed to kickstart a repeating pulse of pain, otherwise known as a headache.

Blinking a few times to adjust my eyes, I paused, breathing deeply before looking around.

I was in a hospital room, laying on a clean white bed that was the same color as the walls and ceiling. It was quiet except for a small beeping by my head—one of the few machines surrounding me.

"Annabeth?"

My eyes shot over to the direction of the familiar voice. I tried to not move my head too much for fear of the pain increasing.