ｂｂｓ ｘ ｒｅａｄｅｒ ｏｎｅｓｈｏｔｓ

Coma ~ (xMini)

Age: 29
Warning: Angst

Request For:

(CRAIG'S POV)

  Her/His natural c/s skin has sunken in tone to something so lifeless it scares me just to look at her/him. Her/His eyes closed as s/he sucks herself into a deeper place to cope. All I can do is stroke her/his h/l h/c hair and hold her/his hand.

   It barely seems enough, yet her/his heart rate comes down almost twenty beats per minute. From time to time my eyes drop to the bedsheets, but mostly they are fixed on her/his face in a soft stare so that whenever s/he opens her/his eyes I'm the first thing s/he sees.

  I've been in her/his dark place before, felt more pain than I knew a human body could bare and it breaks me to see her/him hurting this way. I want to see her/his bright e/c eyes sparkle better before, yet her/his eyes are closed like a sealed jar.

The voice s/he once had stood silent as the wind took it away like a piece of paper in the sky. Her/His soft hands were motionless off the hospital bed as they had not dared to swing at all, was s/he going to make it?

  The question wondered in my head for so long, 128 days it had been since her/his bright smile was seen, 128 days. The monitor's beeps were calming, s/he would be ok. The last time they had occurred it had not been like that, they stopped.

  The hospital room is as devoid of beauty as I am of hope. Its walls are simply cream, not peeling or dirty, just cream. The room as an undertone of bleach and the floor is simply grey. At the far end are windows in brown metal frames, only openable at the top.

  There are stands for intravenous drips and monitors. At the door are dispensers for rubber gloves, hand sanitizer and soap.

  These items only reinforce my fear of germs, they are so ubiquitous here that cleaning is mandatory every time a doorway is passed or a patient is touched. But maybe the nurses will forget, or not wash properly, then what? S/he'll get sicker?

   If the driver would've stopped, maybe s/he'd be fine. I've felt her/his pain before, but s/he's been through worst, s/he's a tough and I know it. A faint mumbled echoed on the room, supposedly a nurse but it wasn't at all, it wasn't.

"Craig?"

The voice was dry, and it came from her/him, Y/n. Words couldn't be spoken as I stared shocked with tears rolled down my eyes, she's awake. "N-nurse!" My very own voice gave me chills, I never spoke in awhile, the way I sounded seemed, odd. Her/His face was paler then an average person, her/his eye lids were closed and her/his heart beat was dropping, s/he's dying. "SOMEONE HELP ME!"

(3RD POV)

  Y/n hadn't heard her/his mother's voice in almost twenty years, not since the cancer took her. But the second s/he heard it s/he knew it was her, though it was far younger in sound. With great effort s/he opened her/his eyes to see her mother and father looking down at her/him.

  "Mother is calling," S/he spoke grasping Craig's hand. As the tears fell down Craig's face dropping onto hers/his he stared with a terrified face. "N-no, Y/n your fine!" His hand stroked her/his cheek softly as s/he heard footsteps. Staring at her/his lover with open eyes s/he gave him a final kiss as her/his heart beat one last time.

  "Remember me.." Was all s/he said, so softly it was almost inaudible against the hum of machinery in the hospital room.

The last thing Craig could do was cry, just cry cradling her/his now limp body.