My Sunflower || Lance Sweets

Chapter Twelve: Hi, I'm Wendell

"Okay, so this might hurt just a little bit. Or it might just feel weird." Sweets was lying flat on his back on his bed, a towel underneath him and Isabelle preparing her tools.

"I had stitches once but they were dissolvable so I have no idea how it actually feels. And once, my mum broke her arm when I was studying nursing, I offered to take the staples out of her arm post surgery and she said no. But staples are generally more easier to remove."
"What will it feel like, do you think?" He asked, watching her carefully. Isabelle shrugged and retied her hair into a bun, making sure all of her hair was out of her face. She pulled on some gloves and knelt at the side of her bed and bit her lip as she thought.

"You might feel a tugging, a pulling. It will probably feel weird. Nah, it'll most definitely feel weird." She picked up the tools needed and Sweets watched as she got to work on the stitches. He winced once when he heard the first snapping of the thread being snapped and then gave a small laugh.

"That feels very weird." He said and Isabelle stopped momentarily to look at his face but when she saw that he was, infact relaxed and not frozen in pain. She smiled and went back to work, carefully removing each of the black threads.

"And that's two down, one to go." She said finally. Sweets sat up to look down at the scars, bright pink from the healing.

"Guess I'm getting quite a collection now, aye?" Isabelle rolled her eyes as she gave the area a clean with some water and then dried it before moving around the bed till she was sitting on the bed and staring at the healing wound on his right, from where the drains had pulled fluid from his lungs.

"What a hoarder." She said, feigning disappointment but her face turned into a smile. She got the stitches out no problem and cleaned and dried it. She pushed herself off the bed as Sweets sat up and inspected the scars, the ones on his back a faded pink compared to the ones on his side and chest. Isabelle went to his drawers and pulled out a shirt for him to wear. Sweets took and carefully put it on as she cleaned up.

"Thank you, again. For everything. I know you'll only be here for like, another week but you've really helped." Sweets said as he followed her out of the room. Isabelle turned and gave him a cheesy grin and gave finger guns with her free hand. "You're real strange."
"I know. When I was younger, my sister Arielle used to always say that." Sweets sat down in the lounge, looking out the window.

"You don't talk about your sister much." He commented as she came and sat down in an armchair that had become, in his mind, hers. She shrugged.

"She's not really much to talk about. We don't... Get along. We did when we were little. She's my twin after all."
"I wish I had siblings."
"You can have mine. I don't need her anymore." Sweets snorted.

"If you didn't have your sister, where would you be?" Isabelle shrugged. "Exactly. I mean, I'm sad that my parents who adopted me died but I wouldn't have it any other way. They raised me nice." Isabelle laughed.

"I think you're taking a trip down informal English, my friend. Raised me nice? Before you know it, I'll have you saying yeah, nah or nah, yeah."
"No thank you." He laughed. Isabelle watched his face as he smiled and looked out the window. His sweet, handsome face was more alive than she had seen in the last few weeks. She would miss this time with him.

"Is that a car?" Sweets was still looking out the window.

"Well, cars do tend to be outside, Sweets. Well done on noticing." He shook his head, ignoring the sarcastic tone in her voice. Isabelle looked out the window and saw what he was talking about. A car had slowed down and was parking itself across the road. It had the Jeffersonian logo on the side.