My Heart's Resident

3

         It was light enough to see, but still too dark to comprehend my surroundings. I felt warm, but the feeling was fading every time my skin caught the wind of a cold draft coming from nearby. I was laying on an uncomfortable surface-- not only was it hard, but it was rough to the touch, and cold to add on to that. There was no way to tell what time it was, but I assume it's around dawn.

I remember what happened last night:

I broke into my house, and took headache medicine.

Was it headache meds?

Now that I think about it, I have several bottles that look similar. I took the wrong pills.

I felt around me, and realised that I was laying on my bedroom floor, the cheap carpet scratching my skin as I tried to sit up. My hands caught a few pills and slid back down, causing me to hit my head against the floor. I could hear a sharp pounding against my door, and a panicked shout with quick footsteps, but it barely registered in my mind as I succumbed to the impending darkness clouding my mind.

/(/(/(/💙\)\)\)\

The dull pings of a monitor and sudden ringing in my ears made me stir, causing my worn journal to fall to the ground. The tapping of shoes caught my attention, and my eyes slid open. There he was: Shaun Murphy--hands folding over themselves, swaying on his feet, and neck nervously stretching back and forth. The whole shabang.

"Hi, Shaun..." my gravely voice quietly sounds out, barely audible, but he heard me. "You aren't supposed to be here," he said. I froze for a second, and involuntarily chuckled, which escalated into a quiet laugh that ended with coughs. "Was that funny," he asked, sitting in the visitor's chair. "A bit," I admitted, "But it's true. I was stupid and didnt look at the dang bottle before I took the pills." I gave him the best smile I could muster, though it wasn't much--my entire being was really hurting.

"You had a minor overdose, and got a concussion. You will be fine," he said, eyes watching my every breath, seeming to scan me. "Thanks, doc, I appreciate it. Do you know when I can leave?"

(POV shift- 3rd person omnicient)

Of course, you would be fine. You should be discharged that day. He didn't notice any irregularities, and a minor concussion was hardly anything worth worrying about, but his mouth said otherwise. "You have to stay tonight. There are... a few things we have to check. I'll order an X-ray and a CT."

There was nothing wrong, but Shaun was buying time. You waited for your results with him, having small conversations until a minor bump in the road became apparent. "I hear you talk about your brother often. Can I meet him sometime?"

Everything was silent. You felt a suffocating weight on the air-- tention thick enough to cut with a knife. Everything was silent and yet his words rang out loud and clear, "You can't. He's dead."

You were certain that crushing weight crashing down to earth shattered your heart, but the way Shaun's regular fidgeting and head turning increased ground your heart into dust. Once again, everything was silent, but the words you wished you could speak were conveyed through the hot tears running down your face.

Shaun didn't understand. He didn't know why you were crying after hearing of his late brother, and he had no clue on how to console someone when they were upset, so he sat rocking side to side, waiting for Claire to take her to her scans.

Time ticked on still, and you had cried yourself to sleep. He watched you, albeit however creepy that was. You were peaceful enough, sighing in your sleep. A gentle knock was heard on the door, and Claire stepped in. She had glowing tan skin, beautiful hazel-brown eyes, and curly brown hair half-tied up. Her entry startled you awake.

"Knock, knock. How are you, Y/n? Head feeling okay," she asked, looking over your papers. "Better. Shaun kept me company whike I was waiting." Her eyebrows rose a bit before glancing at him. "So you're well aquainted with Dr. Murphy, I see. That's good," she started, then readjusted herself and went on "...because we were going to ask if you would consider switching your primary care doctor."

Your eyebrows scrunched, and Shaun watched you curiously. He wasnt used to social reaction, after all. "But isn't he a surgical resident? What if you need him," you asked, looking between the two. "I agree with Y/n," Shaun said, and Claire looked at him, then shifted to you, where her words were a bit slower. "I don't mean any offense, but you've probably known him long enough to see he isn't very good at... Talking to people." You scanned Shauns face, and noticed how quickly he got uncomfortable. You didn't dwell on it; it was rude to stare, after all.

"Well, if Shaun isn't busy... And consents to this, then I wouldn't mind. It's up to him," you said, folding your hands. "Well, we'll give him some time to think while we gather those scans he ordered. I don't know why, but it's too late to cancel them," she almost sighed.

Claire had you sit in a wheel chair, seeing as you were still a bit dizzy when you stood. As she wheeled you down the halls, she asked standard questions like, "Are you wearing any metal," and "Is there any chance you might be pregnant?" It was "No" to both. Laying in the machines was a little weird, bit Claire covered you with a blanket and talked to you over the intercom. Just normal girl chat, until you heard Shaun's voice.

"Hi," was all he said.

You began laughing, and he watched as the activity in your brain shifted over the CT he was watching.

He knew it.

He ordered the scan to be sure, but he watched it change.

Everything was normal.

"Why is that funny," he asked you.

You laughed through your response and no one understood you, but Claire laughed anyway.