Peaches

Sixteen

M A T U R E A U D I E N C E S O N L Y!
18+

I sat beside Chris in the ER, twisting the strap on my purse, until the poor thing began to tear from the base. His uncomfortable wincing and slight shifting in his seat only made my anger rise. Nobody in this damn hospital was rushing to help us, other than a measly little cloth to prevent blood from transferring onto other surfaces, and a cup of water. It had been twenty minutes since I had turned in the clipboard with all of his information on it. Twenty minutes since I used up the last of my politeness. The poor man couldn't so much as hold his pen, could they not see the pain he was in?

He did play it off well, sitting tall in the seat, and occasionally flashing me a comforting smile. I could understand wanting to look tough, but he didn't have to prove himself to me. He was already a freaking beast in my eyes. I mean, he drove himself home immediately after being stabbed.

"I swear to god if-"

"Peach, hush, I'm fine. They'll see me when they can, okay?" Chris examined my flush cheeks and pursed lips as I stared hatefully at the hospital staff. The sight made him grin, finding amusement in my panic.

"You're not fine." I turned my head over to him and snapped out a whisper, completely uninterested in arguing.

He lifted his shirt to reveal two small holes in his side, leaking out blood. "See, it ain't that bad."

"Put your shirt down." I yanked on the hem, covering him back up. "Do not stop putting pressure on it. I swear if you think you're some kind of superhero who doesn't -"

"Christian Blake?" A small nurse, wrapped in a disposable yellow emergency robe looked up from her clipboard at Chris and I.

"Oh, great." I huffed, standing from the chair. Our eyes met and I squinted out a hateful glare, nearly snarling at her as I strode out of the lobby. "It's about fuckin' time."

Chris lifted slowly from his chair, taking slow steps down the hall until we were in our exam room. He sat himself down on the bed and grinned at the nurse, looking over her petite figure. "So, should I get naked now?"

"Oh, fuck off." I rolled my eyes, muttering under my breath.

She blushed a cherry red and began typing on the sleek laptop that sat on a bulky rolling device. "You wanna tell me your birthday, Mr. Blake?"

"July 30th, 1991."

So he is a Leo.

"Alright, very good, Mr. Blake. So, what have we got here?"

"I got stabbed." Chris grinned, showing off his gallant smile, and eye-catching dimples.

"How many times are y'all gonna ask us that?" I frowned, crossing my arms over my chest. "We've been here for-"

"I understand, miss, we're doing everything we can to-"

"So, start already." I bit out, leaning forward in my seat. "You're just gonna leave him to bleed out?"

Chris watched me with wonder in his eyes, seeing my attitude get worse and worse. My stress level was off the charts. I had practically channeled a part of Chris' temper.

I hate hospitals.

With an exhausted look, she ignored my comments and focused down on the task at hand. She took a pair of scissors and cut down the back of his shirt, peeling it off of him. "How is your pain level?" She asked, gently touching a gloved hand to the skin surrounding the bloody holes in his side.

"Feeling pretty nice, darlin', thank you." Despite trying to sound suave, his teeth stayed clenched shut, letting her apply a fresh piece of gauze to go over the wounds.