Me before you

chapter 17

Three days before Christmas, Y/n woke up to a light blanket of snow clinging to the misty window pane, more still swirling softly like stars or the ends of Q-tips from the pale sky, and a heavy contented feeling in her chest. She laid beneath the covers – not that she could do much else – and watched it come down, listening to her own breathing and the sound of her heart beating in her ears. It was weirdly satisfying – she couldn't feel it thump beneath her fingers like she did before, after a workout or a date, but she could hear it if she stayed very quiet against the pillows, and that made her feel connected, a part of her own broken body again.

Thin morning light filled her room, shifting over the walls as the sun rose. Y/n watched the snow slow to a stop. A thin carpet of white lay over the grass outside, clinging to bare brown branches and shivering leaves. When was the last time we had snow? She couldn't remember. It looks just like a Christmas card.

After the snow stopped, her bedroom door opened loudly and Ten's familiar face poked around the door, wearing a grin and a Santa hat, stuck at a jaunty angle over his hair. He had a snow- dusted coat bundled on over his scrubs. When he saw she was awake his eyes widened almost comically. "What's this? Y/n Y/l/n, awake before midday?"

"Shut up," Y/n managed, mustering a smile. Already, something like anticipation fluttered in her stomach. "Maybe I'm just getting into the Christmas spirit. You clearly are." She grinned. "Nice hat, by the way."

"Thanks," Ten replied seriously. "I'm told it's very in season."

Y/n rolled her eyes. "Get your ass over here and get me into that thing. Sana's in today."

"Yes ma'am," Ten nodded, tugging his Santa hat off and tossing it on the side – height of fashion or not. "Wouldn't want your lady seeing you looking this sleepy and gross."

Y/n grinned and pretended to ignore him, even though the phrase your lady sent a dozen butterflies flitting through her stomach. The nurse made quick work of helping Y/n into her wheelchair and setting it up, turning to make the bed before sorting out whatever pills she was assigned this week.

He made her some tea and toast while he did his thing, and Y/n had breakfast watching the sky spit odd snowflakes down to the ground and joking back and forth. Her parents came in to say good morning. She got dressed. She said goodbye to Ten, sending him on his way with a smile and a novelty Christmas card. She tried to think, but she couldn't remember for the life of her when it had gotten so easy.

The jangle of keys turning in the annex door and heels clicking on hardwood floors sent Y/n's heart into an upward spiral – even though it was technically just another workday for Sana, it wasn't, and it hadn't been ever since the ball. There hadn't been all that much more in the way of kissing or seriously talking, but they'd bantered at the hospital, watched Christmas movies together on TV, taken Louis to the comic book store, had a few coffees at Granny's. It was nice. It was nice, and it was easy, and Y/n grinned every single time she heard her come through the door.

"Morning," Sana greeted briskly, pushing around the bedroom door inside her room, black wool scarf knotted tight around her throat, bag swinging from gloved wrists. There was snow melting in her dark hair, and her lips were colored a festive shade of red.

"Morning." Y/n grinned. Her fingers drummed on the arms of her chair. "You good?"

"Debatable." Sana allowed, lifting her bag onto its usual spot on the side and stowing her keys inside. She turned around, shooting Y/n a look, dark eyes wide. "Louis woke me up at six thirty this morning insisting we make snowmen."

"You made snowmen without me?" Y/n stared, mouth falling open. "Not fair!"

Sana smiled and lifted a perfectly coiffed eyebrow. "Don't worry yourself with jealousy. It's so light we actually ended up with snow amoebas."