(London)
I opened my eyes.
I was in hospital.
My head pounded, and my throat was dry. I coughed, and my eyes spotted the glass of water next to my head, on a bedside table. Automatically, I leaned over, and suddenly there was a stabbing pain against my stomach. I looked down, and saw bandages.
“Careful,” someone said, starting towards me. I turned my head, but my eyes failed to focus. All I saw was a black blur. “You just had major surgery.”
I blinked, and my vision cleared. I saw a boy, about eighteen, with blonde hair, and green eyes.
“Who the hell are you?” I asked, as he got up, and handed me my water. My voice was hoarse, and I swallowed the water hungrily. It cooled my throat.
“Um, I’m…” he said, smiling nervously. He pulled his shirt up to his neck, covering most of his face.
“An…idiot?”
“No, I’m…” He mimicked something in the air.
“Having a seizure?”
“No, I –”
“I don’t know. Tell me.”
“I’m –”
“Tell me!”
“I –”
“Tell!”
“Shut up!” he yelled. “I’m telling you! I’m one of the three people sent to take down your kidnapper!”
I stared at him, gaping. I swallowed. “You’re one of the guys who beat me up?”
“Yes,” he said, looking kind of ashamed at his outburst, “but I just wanted to tell you, I didn’t mean to, I was sent to take down your kidnapper instead. I didn’t want to –”
I shut him up by leaning over and hitting him on the head, hard. My heart’d suddenly panged at the thought of my kidnapper, and I was trying to maintain my calm face by changing the subject.
“Ow!” he said, wincing. “What the hell?”
“I just had major surgery, and I have a headache. I get to hit you.”
“Right,” he said, looking ashamed, “but I just wanted to say sorry. If there’s anything I can do to make up for it –”
Just then, the door burst open, revealing my Dad.
“Dad!”
He ran in, and all I could see was his suit, messy hair and unshaven face, before pulled me into a hug. “London!”
“Hey, Dad,” I said, awkwardly. What was wrong with him? He never acted like this. He’s never lost his temper, he’s never lost his control, he’s never gone crazy like this.
I patted his back, waiting for him to pull away.
“I thought I lost you,” he said, pulling away slightly. I was surprised to see that his blue eyes (I got my eyes from my Dad) were tearing, a little. I’ve never seen him cry before. “I can’t believe you were gone! I thought I was never going to see you again!”
“Uh, yeah,” I said, wincing. He was putting pressure on my bandaged chest. He noticed my wince, and he jumped back. “Does that mean you’ll spend more time with me, then?”
“If you want to, sweetheart.”
I rolled my eyes, in mock annoyance, but really I was kind of pleased.
