Jerrie One-Shots

Wrong Room

A/N: i came to the hospital to visit my sick grandma but i think someone gave me the wrong room number because the room i'm in has a pretty girl with a head injury whose claiming i'm her soulmate

OKAY, MY APOLOGIES Y'ALL, BUT WRITERS BLOCK HAS BEEN A BITCH (and Pesy is kinda stabbing me in the heart a bit, but its fine, its cool, its whatevers) AND WRITING HAS BEEN HELLA HARD FOR ME, ESPECIALLY WITH FINALS AND GETTING SICK DURING FINALS...LIKE, WOW.  But, I'm here now.  I still have writers block aside from a few little cutesie one shots like this, and The Sisters (i honestly don't know what it is but I love that universe)...so...yeah, those long one shots gon take a lot longer than i originally anticipated.

BUT I LOVE YOU GUYS, THANKS FOR BEING AWESOME!!!!

***

So, I may not have a sense of smell, but somehow I just know what a hospital must smell like, and every time I walk into one - like, right now - I get just a tad disappointed that I'll never be able to prove myself right or wrong.  

The automatic doors whoosh open as I walk through them, the receptionist not even bothering to look up from her magazine even though I seek her eyes out to get her attention.  There are a few people sitting in the waiting room, looking just as bored as the receptionist, but I ignore them and walk right on up to the front desk, still smiling politely even though I'm slightly irritated.

"Hi."  She doesn't look up.  I awkwardly push a few strands of my blonde hair behind my ear, looking around briefly before clearing my throat...loudly.  She finally senses my presence, putting her damn magazine down and giving me her attention.  "I'm here to visit-"

"Last name?"

Rude.  "Edwards."

"Room two-twenty-one."

"Thank you."

"Mmmhm."

Ruder.  Wow, the nerve of some people....

It's a quick walk to the room, which I'm grateful for because I am not in the mood to go on some sort of scavenger hunt, thank you very much.  I push the door open, slowly, as not to disturb-

Wait...what?

That's not my sick grandmother.

There's nobody in the room except a girl, and before I can quickly slip back out the door and just live with the memory of this extreme embarrassment, her head turns and she makes eye contact with me.

Uhm...wow.

Those are pretty eyes.

And oh, hey, that's a pretty face, too.

Well, would ya look at that...that's a pretty everything.

"Uh, I'm sorry," I say through a nervous chuckle, "I totally didn't mean to disturb you or anything.  I think the lady gave me the wrong room number or someth-"

"Well thank goodness she did."  Her words are slurred, and she's obviously a little loopy just by the dazed look on her face, but for some reason I don't leave (which would be the smart thing to do, because this has to be some type of nonconsensual offense and I am not about that life).  "You're so beautiful...what's your name?"

Leave, idiot.  "Perrie."  That's not leaving.

"I like that name..."  I like your face, but I'm going to keep that to myself.  "Are you my girlfriend?"

...I mean...I can be if that's what you-NO, Perrie...stop this right now.  "Uh, no, I'm not."  Cue yet another nervous chuckle.  

"Shame," the girl says, looking deflated from the news.  "Wife?"