Marinette is assigned to be Felix's secretary at the Agreste Inc. against both of their preferences. He's rude, inconsiderate, and worst of all, trying to make her quit. Not only is Marinette dealing with the stress of her boss, but she also has to...
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The hospital room was dark - only lit by the silver moonbeams peering through the window's blinds. I closed the door behind me. My eyes immediately landed on Mr. Agreste. He was laying flat - his eyes closed and lips parted as several IVs attached to his arm.
Beep beep beep.
I shivered. The heart rate monitor. I wasn't sure what it was actually called, but it always freaked me out - probably from all those movies where the patient's heart rate would flatline making a long beeeeeeeeeep noise.
That was the sound of death. I hoped I wouldn't have to hear it.
Then my eyes fell on Felix - he was sitting in a chair next to the hospital bed - his elbows leaning against his knees as he hunched forward. The moonlight outlined his body and caused his blond hair to look pure white. He definitely looked like a zombie considering his gaze was hallow and spaced out.
"Hey...Felix...is it - is it okay if I stay?" I asked as I stood before him, looking down.
He blinked and jerked his chin upward as if I had surprised him. He stared at me for a few seconds. His eyes. They were aqua - like an exotic European lagoon. Who knew that in the moon, Felix turned into a Zombie god - his complexion purely divine.
"Why?" He said with a sharp edge.
I shook my head, trying to remember what I was saying or doing. As cheesy as it sounded, I had gotten lost in those celestial eyes.
"Coffee! I -umm- brought coffee. For you. From the vending machine. I figured you could use some," I said as I handed him a glass coffee bottle.
He sighed heavily.
"Fine," He said, reaching for the bottle.
He ripped off the top, threw back his head, and started chugging it as if he was a man who had been without water for a week.
He finished it in a matter of seconds.
"That was fast," I said, feeling nervous. My only excuse for being here was gone. I was hoping he'd sip it slowly so we could be together.
"There. Now you can go," he said, handing me the empty bottle.
"Why do you want me to leave so badly?" I said.
"It should be obvious," he said flatly.
I felt frustrated. I get he was going through a lot with his dad being hospitalized, but would it kill him to at least say 'thank you' and be somewhat nice?
"I mean, I get you want to be alone all the time. Work alone. Grieve alone. Die alone. That kind of stuff. But it's not healthy."
He ignored me. There was a long pause as if he was thinking. Then he tilted his head towards me and said, "Listen. I want you to go home - and sleep. This is a personal matter - my personal life. You're not apart of that."
