The Heart of Fear

III

I quickly reached down, searching for whatever object that had fallen down. It was a Biology-book, and it was open on a page about heart-diseases. The page was full of notes, and I was sure that it wasn't me who had wrote them. It was Adam's writing, and therefore - his book. We must have switched books, I thought to myself.

I carefully slid the book down into my backpack again, and promised to give it back tomorrow.

I turned around and walked towards the exit. It was time to go home.

Just as I made it to the door, I saw how a hospital bed rolled in my direction. On the bed was a mop of golden locks. I knew those golden locks, there was only one person with that kind of hair.

I followed the bed quietly, and when I saw how it was left in one of the many rooms of the hospital, I stopped; waiting for the doctors to get out before I made my way in.

I closed the door as soon as I walked in before turning to look at him.

He was sitting up straight, his legs dangling from the bed, his feet barely touching the floor. His eyes were focused on the window, and on the view of the streets. I did the same, looking out of the window, but I couldn't help but let my eyes admire him instead, just as he admired the world outside. He was just so beautiful.

I wondered why he was here; he was not wearing a hospital gown, and he was not looking like many of the other patient in the hospital. He looked healthy, not sick, his skin wasn't pale, his eyes weren't dull, his body seemed to be strong, not beaten by illness.

Aside from the fact that he was sitting on a hospital bed - he seemed fine. But he was sitting on a hospital bed, meaning that something was not right.

"Are you okay?" Slowly, he turned his head towards me, wonder swirling around his irises. I suddenly felt out of place, and to help myself, I opened my backpack, searching for the book.

I took a couple of steps towards the bed before I handed him his Biology-book.

"This is yours, I guess. I think we switched books before." I smiled a little, and I saw how his lips twitched, too. I felt proud knowing I was the reason behind his smile, even if it was petite and hard to catch.

"My apologies, but I do not think that I have your book here, Lexie." I smiled widder and sat down on the bed next to him. At first, I was afraid of his rejection, but when he didn't say a thing about me sitting down beside him, I felt relieved.

"So, back to my earlier question; are you alright?" Adam scrunched his eyebrows together, but the frown soon disappeared as he smiled at me again. I wondered why he seemed distressed at first, but after seeing his pearly white teeth, I forgot all about it.

"I'm great." I hesitated, if he really was fine, why in the name of God would he be here - at the hospital? But I was afraid of asking him, making him upset. And we was barely aquanties, he would probably not even tell me if I asked.

After a couple of minutes in silence, I could feel how his eyes trailed over me. My eyes, my lips, my hair, my body - his eyes consumed everything. Every little flaw, every little detail.

He looked at me like I was a piece of art, an object whose secrets was no longer hidden under the sight of the eye. His gace were burning, looking right through my soul, and no one had ever looked at me like he did.

It seemed as if he was studying me, not throwing quick glances my way like everybody else. It was both exciting, and slightly uncomfortable. I did not know how to feel.

"Seeing as I know how much you want to hear my answer to this question, I am now going to ask you first; Why are you here?" I didn't even have the time to open my mouth before he continued:
"And I know that you didn't come here to give me my Biology-book." I laughed.

"My mother forgot her papers at home, and I thought that I could come by and leave them for her. Seeing you was just luck, I guess." I saw how he smirked when I said the last sentence, and I blushed when I realised that I had unknowingly said that I felt lucky seeing him. His smirk then faded when he asked the next question.

"Your mother? Does she work here?" I nodded.

"Why are you here, Adam? And why are you sitting on a hospital bed if you're not sick?" Adam ran a hand through his hair before answering.

"You know that I play soccer, am I correct?" I nodded.

"Well, I've had some problems with breathing these last few weeks. I came here to run some tests - my parents think that I have astma." I nodded yet again.

"And to why I am sitting on a hospital bed; I am supposed to do another test in an half-hour - I'm just waiting for the doctor to arrive, and I am kind of tired, these tests really worn me out."

"So, you lied?" I raised an eyebrow. He frowned.

"About what?" He asked quickly, his eyes showing uncertainty and wonder.

"You are sick, Adam." I said, irritation clear in my voice.

"Yes, but no as well. I might have astma, but I do not have a deadly illness such as cancer. That would mean being sick. Astma is not really the same thing, at least not for me." I nodded, something I seemed to be constantly doing when I was with Adam.

"I think I understand." Adam reached out and laced one arm around me, and I thought that I heard him whisper something in my hair, but when I turned my head towards him - his eyes were on the window again, his lips pressed together.

"You're probably the only one who does."