quixotic. ↣ d.h.

xlv: promise

"dan!"

"hey, buddy." dan's cheeks scrunched into an attempt at a smile. everywhere he looked was another menacing machine, another plastic vial or syringe or leaky fluid bag hanging like a dead rat from a sharp metal hook. and adrian. god, adrian. he was propped up on half a dozen pillows. his throat was bruised, his gown flimsy and slipping off his bony shoulders. he glanced at zoe and phil, then arched his eyebrows in dan's direction. in all that had been going on, dan had never even gotten a chance to introduce them.

"hey, adrian, i'm phil." phil smiled brightly and moved his hand in a tiny wave.

"and this is zoe," dan provided, putting a light hand on her back and bringing her to stand next to him. he turned to make sure she was okay, eyes searching her face for any signs of discomfort. she smiled smally at him. he smiled back.

suddenly adrian's face warped. his body was seized by a series of wet, hacking coughs that tore their way out of his raw throat. his limp arms flailed in the dry air as he fought to grasp the thin hospital sheets.

dan winced and squeezed his eyes shut. he didn't open them again until adrian had quieted and slumped back into his pile of pillows.

"sorry," adrian said tentatively. his voice was rough, words shredded and guttural. he kept fidgeting with a thick rubber tube protruding from his thin arm, fingernails uneven and bitten down to the quicks. "i can never tell when that's going to happen."

dan grit his teeth and asked a question he already knew the answer to. "has it been happening more often?"

adrian shrugged casually, as if blood wasn't trickling from between his quivering lips, as if his ribs were not protruding, as if he was not shivering uncontrollably beneath the threadbare hospital blankets. "a little."

dan gulped and raised his eyes to the ceiling, blinking fast and crushing his hands into fists. his chest rose and fell in unsteady breaths. he hated this. he hated the universe and the controlling stars zoe spoke of and he hated, hated, hated phil and zoe seeing him like this.

"why don't we... give you two a minute alone?" zoe said hesitantly, beginning to back towards the door and gesturing for phil to follow.

phil smiled one last time at adrian before slipping out the door and holding it open for zoe to follow.

dan turned to share one last reassuring glance with zoe, the hollow halls of the hospital fading into a clean white blur for a moment, everything coming to rest in those misty eyes of hers. he could never explain it, but her eyes always reminded him of morning. soft, fresh, a little chilly. the opening of a clean page, the first drop of refreshing rain.

new.

promising of possibility.

a/n: more to come, it's been rough lately. please comment/vote to give me some motivation! <3