My Blind Love For The Alpha

twenty

I can't get your smile out of my mind, I think about your eyes all the time. You're beautiful but you don't even try, modesty is just so hard to find ≈ Love Bug, Jonas Brothers

I feel myself coming back to consciousness, but I can't open my eyes. They might as well be glued shut, and it's useless trying to open them anymore. There's a beeping in the background, growing faintly quicker. My heartbeat, I realise. 

The memories come back in a flash, hitting me with a sudden thought: I'm in the hospital.

I know Kyle is near, my mark on my shoulder feeling warmer when he is close. The stronger it is, the closer he is. His hand is in mine, holding it tightly.

A flood of comfort rushes through me, knowing that he is here. He is beside me. My mate.

I squeeze his hand in mine, grateful for his presence. 

I just want to see his face. Just once. I want to see him.

All I want. All I will ever want. If I had three wishes, if a genie suddenly appeared and gave me a miracle, I would only wish to see Kyle's face. Nothing else. Nothing else.

"We'll get through this, Angel. I'm right here, okay?" He assure her gently. I feel his eyes on me, assessing me.

I know I'm wearing a hospital gown, I can feel it enclosing my body. My hair is falling down my shoulders and I realise that my eyes are taped shut, not glued.

"I love you." I whisper gently, feeling the need to remind him that I am okay. I will be okay.

"I love you too, Angel. So much."

"What's the time?" I question as a rush of exhaustion floods through me, which confuses me seeing I've been out of it for a while.

"It's six in the morning, Gem." Kyle sighs, his voice past the point of tired.

"How long was I...?" I trail off.

"About four hours." His voice is quieter, sadder than I think I've ever heard it. I can hear the pain in it.

 I pull his hand. A gentle tug. He seems to get the message, because I hear him stand up and I feel him come closer, the warmth on my shoulder getting more intense and more enjoyable with every shuffle he makes in my direction. I move over in the small hospital bed, making sure there is some room beside me. Patting the sheets next to me, I feel the bed dip with Kyle's weight.

"I can't lose you." He whispers into my hair.

His tears roll onto my hair, a few of them onto my cheek, mixing with my own. I pull him closer, impossible closer to my body. The warmth comforts me, reassuring me that he is there. As he always will be. I know Kyle always tries to be strong for me, tries to protect me. But if I have learned anything in the last five years, it's this: Protecting someone, only results in them getting hurt more. Whether it's because they lose someone, they find out a big secret or they are betrayed, they will only feel more hurt then before. Protecting someone is just an illusion.

"You won't. I'm right here." I assure him, sniffing quietly and pulling my arms around his body.

I make sure to memorize everything about him, everything I can. The way his muscles ripple with every move he makes, the way he pulls me impossibly closer every few seconds, the feel of his hair under my fingertips, the feel of his impossible smooth and warm skin underneath my cold hands.

He's scared.

I fell asleep, Kyle's body pressed against my own. When I wake up, I'm slightly sitting up in his lap, his legs on either side of my waist.