35: Bitter Donuts

95 7 44
                                    

Painfully slowly, Tyler guided a french fry toward his lips. The sling that prevented any movement of his arm had been replaced by a much less intrusive shoulder brace just two days ago and his withered muscles weren't yet cooperating with him. But it was a joy to eat solid food on his own, even if he felt about as graceful as his little sister when she was served finger food as a toddler. Although hopefully not as messy. As his hand closed in on its target, his shoulder started to ache, threatening to not let him get all the way.

Determined to succeed, Tyler bent his neck forward, snatching the salty treat out of his fingers halfway. Triumphantly, he leaned back again, savoring the taste of fried starch. Only a few dozen french fries left... He supposed he could use his right arm, which functioned better, to accomplish his goal faster but that wouldn't help him regain control of his body. So after devouring the accompanying cheeseburger, using his better arm to hold it, he'd challenged himself to use his left arm for every single fry.

"How's it going, Tyler?" Shruti stood in the doorway, having snuck up while Tyler was preoccupied with his dinner.

"Good," he mumbled, trying to cover the plate partly with his hand so she wouldn't see how many fries were remaining. "Soon done!"

His nurse lifted an eyebrow, signaling that she saw right through his lie. "You'll be hungry again before you're finished," she surmised. "The kitchen is working overtime just feeding you these days."

This was probably true, as Tyler for the last week had been ravenous most of the time. His increased hunger aligned with progress in the healing process, making him feel much more like himself since his pain medication doses had been decreased. His head didn't feel foggy and his limbs no longer seemed constantly heavy.

"I could go for some donuts instead if the chef is tired," Tyler suggested. "The cookies here taste like cardboard."

"I've told you we don't serve pastry here." Shruti sighed in feigned exasperation. "The oatmeal cookies are your only option. This is a hospital, not a bakery, and we don't want to encourage excessive intake of sugar."

"I'm quite sure donuts can be considered medicine," Tyler mumbled. "At least for me. Maybe you could pop down on your break and get some? Donna told me there is a donut truck by the entrance."

Shruti shook her head. But she didn't say outright no, which made Tyler hope for some glazed treats later. Shruti wouldn't be able to withstand his charms forever.

"I didn't come here to debate snack deliveries with you anyway," his nurse said. "I came here to tell you that you have a visitor." She looked to the left and then the right, to avoid any eavesdropping coworkers. "He's quite a snack though... if I say so myself." A mischievous smile adorned her dark red lips. Had she gone by the changing room to put on lipstick after meeting Tyler's visitor?

Tyler knew only one possible guest who could warrant such a reaction. Or well, maybe Lance would do as well, but he was supposed to be in Iraq so a certain handsome visitor whom Tyler had recently invited seemed much likelier.

"Tell him to come right up," Tyler said, pushing his plate of french fries away. "I can finish these later... with my donuts." He flashed what he hoped was a charming enough smile to convince his nurse to do his bidding.

"You just don't give up." Shruti chuckled.

"Not when sweets are involved," Tyler replied.

"Not when it comes to anything from what I can tell," Shruti countered, her tone suddenly more serious. It almost sounded like she was proud of him. "I'll be back with your guest in a moment."

Tyler pushed the rolling tray, on which is plate of french fries stood, away from the bed as he prepared himself for the visit. He was nervous but he tried to ignore that fact the best he could. He needed to keep them at bay to be able to handle the upcoming conversation. And he needed to seem as strong and unbothered as Shruti believed him to be.

Bitter Treats (BxB Romance, In Progress)Where stories live. Discover now