Haste [h.s.]

~45~

i've barely edited this so if you see any typos, pls don't point them out or i will actually cry!!

jk, but on a real note, i'll be back to rr and edit anything i see wrong.

i did promise a chapter today, didn't i? :)

she's a lengthy one to compensate, enjoyyy!

NEW YEAR'S EVE/DAY
* 33 weeks preggo *

The glow of each firework flaring in the air reflected on my skin, casting my small corner with a momentary light that made my eyes squint and my body feel smaller in the mess of makeshift pillows made out of sweatshirts and blanket we trekked all the way from home.

If I stared at them long enough, time would crawl faster from my notion and make the wait less agonizing. Less fleeting.

"Is it midnight yet?" It was a rhetorical question. Of course I knew it wasn't another while until then, but I hated how silent the room grew after hours once everyone went home and it was just us building a fort of sorts in the middle of the hospital.

The doctors grew acquainted with us, even offering extra blankets if necessary, but we were over taking advantage of their niceties when they'd been working long and endless hours to fix the broken piece to our puzzle.

The unmissable sound of a phone click from a few feet away from me comes followed by a yawn. "Nine more minutes." It cracks his final word, only adding a deeper octave to his tone thanks to his tiredness.

My own yawn lodged my words on the tip of my tongue, to which I took as a sign to resign to them altogether. It'd been the first thing I speculated since the first firework took over our view from the small window, but I didn't know how far I was willing to take the conversation with how limited it's all been between everyone this past week, myself included.

The day of the accident struck any other average person to transpire at the same rate of any other day while the pale blue wall staring back at us in that emergency room waiting bench told us otherwise.

"Do you think they can see it from upstairs?" I forced my words out against my own will, but didn't regret them from the way he sighed calmly.

The blanket rustled when his knees outstretched a fragment to overlap our feet in the distance of the tight windowsill. There was barely any space to fit us both on a single side, forcing us to sit on opposite ends of the narrow wooden frame. The cushion provided by a lovely nurse did a poor job from keeping the ridges of it from digging into my tailbone.

"Maybe." He shrugged, tugging the ends of his sleeves into his fisted hands, exhaling a harsh breath into them. "I hope he can hear them."

Backing out of this conversation was nothing out of the normal for us these last few days, which surprised me when he even answered. I hung onto this turning leaf, I nudged his foot with my own softly. "He might." I said like it'd been promised to me in a dream, blinking at the pink hues of the latest firework. "I'll ask him when he's up."