Match-Made For You

| T W E N T Y | White coat, White room.

| T W E N T Y | White coat, White room.

"...PTSD...medication...overnight..." The words are muffled as I catch some of what the doctors are saying to Myles. 

My eyes opened and closed, my vision blurry. The only things I could make out was Myles' form and the doctors white coat as they stood on opposite sides of my bed. 

I saw Myles nod slowly, "Thank you, Doctor West."

"When will her parents be arriving?" 

"Tomorrow. A storm is keeping the planes from taking off." 

Dr. West says something, but I slip away before I can hear whatever it was he was talking about.

***

My eyes fluttered open, Friends played on the TV that sat high on the wall in front of me, blaring the familiar theme song I'd known all my life.

Myles sat in the chair he was in before, his head supported by his arms resting on his knees. He yawned, and ran his hands through his hair, his leg bouncing up and down faster than the beat of the song. I smiled to myself, noticing the light stubble on his usually smooth face. Shadows fell over his soft features, when his eyes wander over at me, noticing my stare.

He sits up quickly, rubbing his hands down his legs. I almost laugh at him, when I notice the tube stuck down my throat. My eyes widen, I can't speak.

He notices my discomfort and shifts to face me, "It's okay, Lyla. After you passed out, the doctors found something in your neck, or throat?" He pauses for a moment, thinking to himself, "I don't know, anyway, the tube is to help you breathe--"

I start coughing when the air finally comes back into my lungs, and out through my mouth forcefully. My throat is on fire, I can't breathe anymore. Myles runs out the room and shouts something in the hallway. Doctors fill the room in seconds.

A woman rushes up to me, her red ponytail bouncing behind her when she stops, the name on her white coat reads Catherine Hills in nice blue letters. Her hands lift my chin up as I continue coughing, and she grabs the tube.

She brings my chin down, opening my mouth up more and she wiggles the tube free and out of my mouth, the burning sensation finally stops when I catch my breath. 

"Welcome back." Her warm voice fills she air as she rambles on about my health. I don't understand any of it though, so I just nod and act like I'm listening until she finally leaves, throwing a flirtatious smile at Myles before closing the door.

Jealousy flares in my chest, and I roll my eyes, "How professional." I mutter, bringing my hands to rub at my sore neck.

Myles rolls his back, "Shove over. That chair is seriously uncomfortable."

I do as I'm told, and scoot over onto the small bed, all the way over to the edge so Myles can join me on the small cot. 

He lifts me up easily, slipping one arm under my legs and the other around my back to hold me in his arms. I don't say anything when he sits down on the bed, stretching his legs out before letting me go as I stretch my own out too. He takes up pretty much the whole bed, and I lay right beside him, on my side with one of my legs thrown over him, one arm under him--the other one thrown over his stomach-- and my head resting on his chest. His arms circle around me, squeezing me against him. 

He kisses the top of my head, "Are you okay, Lyla?" 

I shake my head, "No. I can barely process what happened to me. It was all so quick."

"The doctors say you might have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder." He recites quietly, "They said that's why you passed out. Because I kissed you. And that caused you neck to get messed up or whatever. I caused that. I hurt you." His voice breaks at the last three words that tumble out of his mouth.

I strain my neck to look up at him, causing my throat to burn and pain to shoot down my back and neck, "You did not cause this, Myles. Reece did."

"That bastard. He's lucky jail is all he gets."

I move head back to it's original position, wincing during the act. I can feel Myles' hard stare as he watches me, I can imagine the look of worry etched onto his face as he thought about every bad thing that could happen in this moment.

"Are you okay? Does your neck hurt?" He asks, finally breaking the silence that stretched out between us.

I nod my head slowly, "My neck is fine." I insist, training my gaze on the wall.

He shifts, and lifts my head face his, grimacing when he sees the pain carved on my face from the sudden movement. His eyes sadden as his eyes drop to my neck, staring at the bruises that I know decorate my neck.

"Oh, baby," He whispers, his thumb coming to trace light circles along my neck, "It kills me to see you hurt." 

Baby, my heart does a small flip in my chest, distracting me for a moment. No, Lyla. Focus on this very serious conversation. I force myself to come back.

"I passed out because Reece kissed me, too." I blurt out suddenly, watching as a surprised look takes over while he takes in what I said.

"He kissed you?" He whispers.

I nod my head, "Yeah. I guess it reminded me of that. I'm sorry."

"No need to be sorry for what that asshole did you."

I sigh, "You can leave, you know. I don't want to burden you with my fucked up life."

Myles flinches at my words, his brows furrowing together in confusion, "You are not a burden, Lyla. You are my best friend, my girlfriend, the love of my life. I could never leave you."

My heart does continuous somersaults in my chest, hammering so loud against my chest I have to wonder if Myles can hear it as much as I can.

"How did I get so lucky?" I wonder aloud, locking my eyes on Myles'.

He laughs, "I love you so much Lyla," His whispers are barely heard above the loud thud of my heart, "so, so much." he adds after a moment.

I will my heart to stop pounding so loud. My thirteen year old self screams at the top of her lungs, a boy actually loves me. He freaking loves me. I shove the thoughts away, but they come back instantly, letting me know that this is the man of my dreams.

"I love you too Myles, more than you'll ever know."

***