Dolphin Tale 6

Chapter [29]

C h a p t e r   T w e n t y   N i n e

Everything was blurry for a while, but after that, the first thing she noticed when she opened her eyes was a spot on the ceiling that was peeling—a small brown dot vividly contrasted against the white plaster. It was a small spot, and it must have gone unnoticed for a while—nobody would have noticed it, not with everyone's attention focused on what was in front of them. But now the small brown dot had caught her attention and it sparked a thought within her mind.

It was funny how the smallest details often always went unnoticed; often waved off as insignificant, when in fact they were probably the most important. There was a quote in the back of her mind—one from Vernor Vinge, stating: "Even the largest avalanche is triggered by small things", and it was then that she realized just how accurate that statement was. After all, it was from little things that big things grew—large, complex problems that stemmed from one tiny, insignificant spark; problems that could have been avoided if someone had noticed the seemingly unimportant spark and smothered it before it could trigger something bigger and harder to handle.

With that thought in mind, her gaze swept around the room, her ears beginning to register the all too familiar sound that punctuated the oppressive silence that hung in the air like a thick curtain of fog. It was the continuous beeping of the heart monitor, a monotonous sound that mirrored the dull ticking of the clock that hung on the wall. Beyond that, she could hear the faint whisper of someone inhaling and exhaling slowly—there was someone in the room with her.

Turning slowly, she glanced at the far corner of the room and saw Sawyer slumped in an uncomfortable-looking chair, his eyes closed; chest rising and falling with each gentle breath he took as he slept.

As she observed him, she couldn't help but notice that despite the overall peaceful expression on his face, there were several prominent creases on his forehead and a shadow appeared to have fallen over the delicate skin beneath his eyes. All in all, he looked terrible—as though this was the first time he had slept in a few days.

Her gaze continued to sweep down his slouched figure, noticing that his clothes were crumpled and what looked like a coffee stain tainted his jeans. As her eyes returned to his face, all she wanted to do, despite the dishevelled state he was in, was kiss him. Stress seemed to have taken over his body, and she wanted nothing more than to get out of her hospital bed and kiss him until it all went away.

And so she tried, but as soon as she sat up, an upsurge of pain seized her head and brought her crashing back down, ripping a sharp, strangled cry from her throat. She closed her eyes, a stinging, tingling sensation in her arm that originated from where her IV was. As she excruciating pain in her head dulled down to a more manageable ache, she opened her eyes and glanced at her arm, praying that her IV hadn't been ripped out when she had tried to sit up. A small sigh of relief was elicited from her mouth as she realized that it was still in place.

Her back was getting sore from lying in the same position, so she decided that it was time to try and sit up again. She braced her arms on either side of her body and was about to sit up when a hoarse voice sliced through the air, their tone brusque and commanding.

"Don't."

She froze before slowly sinking back down onto the bed, her eyes trained on Sawyer. His gaze was unfocused, his eyes still riddled with sleep, and yet his expression was hard, something close to intimidating. In the few tense minutes that ensued, they simply stared into each other's eyes until Sawyer coughed and turned away.

After a few more apprehensive minutes in which her nerves were set on edge—waiting for something to happen—Sawyer stood up abruptly and walked over to the chair that was situated beside her bed. It took a while, but after what appeared to be a brief moment of hesitation, he sat down, his posture stiff, jaw tight, hands clenched into fists. His gaze was fixed on his lap.