Till Death Do Us Part

Chapter 4- Guns and Kisses

My hand finds its way up to my mouth when I walk into the hospital room and notice Roman in bed with a frown on his face, and a look full of disdain directed towards the cast on his leg. I can still clearly recall the unnatural way in which he landed, sprawled out on the floor, his body folded in a way I didn’t think possible. His head snaps up at the sound of my heels clicking into his room. The look on his face is something I can’t describe, simply expressionless and I can’t fathom what’s scarier. The fact that I don’t know if he’s furious or the fact that I can’t, for the life of me, decipher what he’s thinking.

                “Roman,” I greet tentatively. I don’t know why I felt the need to ride in the back of the ambulance with him, why I held his hand for the duration of the ride. I keep telling myself that the only reason I’m here is only to keep appearances, but there’s a part deep inside me that was genuinely concerned.

                “You tried to kill me, again,” he states with that same expression on his face, it’s not a question, it’s a deadpan statement.

                “Technically it was really an accident,” I defend timidly.

                “With you accidents seem to be rather high on the fatality rate, no?” he raises one dark eyebrow.

                “This isn’t my fault, if you hadn’t forced my hand-,”

                “I forced your hand, don’t you mean when you hurled yet another inanimate object at my head?” he chuckles dryly, sitting up straighter in bed with a lot of difficulty.

                “Have they checked you out yet for a concussion?” I step further into the room and adjust the pillows behind him. His blue eyes snap up to look at me, an indecipherable look flashes through them. He nods before shrugging me off and swatting my prying hands away, something I’m glad for because I’m shit at the whole ‘comforting other people’ thing. “Will ‘sorry’ make you stop acting like a little bitch?” I pipe up. He glowers at me.

                “Actually, I think this a rather fine opportunity for us to bond,” he smirks and I raise a bored eyebrow. “I’ll be at home and you’ll look after me since this is your entire fault,” he adds with a careless shrug. His presence makes the small hospital bed look even smaller, yet the authority in his voice is prominent. Prominent to the nurses that have been bustling in and out of his room for hours, following his every whim I’m sure. His voice, his personality is something that exudes nothing but raw authority and pure masculinity, even the doctors refused to let me in until Roman himself gave the ‘okay’. Yeah, he’s a conniving, authoritative bastard but I’m not willing to be at his beck and call.

                “Yeah, I’m sure one of these nurses will be very willing to go home and look after you,” I state offhandedly. A commotion is clearly heard outside followed by a thud right before three nurses stroll into the room with beautiful smiles painted on their faces.

                “May we help you with anything, Mr. Ferrar?” the slender brunette questions while moving towards his bed and looking around the equipment, pretending to do something. A pretty girl with Asian features and silk black hair steps forward to take Roman’s pressure, and lastly, the perky blonde moves to adjust Roman’s leg and offers to fluff his pillows. I don’t even know if that was lingo but it looked like she wanted to fluff something else. Roman, on the other hand, seems pretty happy with all of the attention he’s receiving, looking a lot like a kid in a candy store. I bet he’s willing to sink his teeth into something.

Just as I was going to make a snide remark, Roman’s doctor steps through the door with a bright smile on his angelic face. Is that noise bells chiming I hear? Sandy blonde hair frames a ruggedly sculptured face and dark amber pools smile politely at us. With a clear of the good doctor’s throat the three nurses scatter out of the room and he gives us an apologetic look. I almost have the urge to shout, don’t be sorry, you should never be sorry.