ORIGINAL:The Boy With A Touch Of Cancer(BxB)

25. Stubborn bastard

"See? Don't you feel better now that you're out of that fucking room?" Leo asked mischievously.

I glared down at the wheelchair the nurse insisted I use; to be completely honest I hated that I needed the chair, I didn't hate riding in the chair. See? There's a major difference there.
I didn't think I could walk all the way down the hallway to the elevator (which we were currently riding down to the main floor of the hospital in), but that didn't make me happy about needing to use it.

"Oh, yeah. I feel so much better about my boyfriend wheeling me through the hospital because I'm too weak to walk," I grumbled.

Leo draped his hands over my shoulders and gingerly worked the muscles in my neck. "I know it sucks, sweetheart, but that room sucked even worse."

I let my head fall back against the chair, and I looked into Leo's smiling face.
His hands were steadily rubbing the stiffness out of my neck as he stared back at me silently. I moaned simply by him giving me a freaking neck rub as a bolt of lightning shot through my veins, causing my heart to stutter in my chest.

"Lower," I mumbled, leaning forward so Leo could access my shoulder blades.

He slid his hands down to my shoulder blades and massaged the stiff muscles. "Better?" he murmured in my ear.

I nodded, unable to form a coherent thought, and leaned into his hands as my answer.
He chuckled using a little more pressure and rubbing his hands in delicious, steady movements across my upper back and shoulders.

The elevator stopped and I jerked back in my chair; forcing Leo to remove his hands from my back with an irritated sigh.

"Sorry, Leo. I'm still not used to strangers seeing us together." I mentally told him, hoping he could hear my thoughts...though I highly doubted he could.

The metal, hand-printed doors opened to reveal a man in his 30s and a woman a little younger than him holding a sleeping toddler.
The little girl's head was buried in her mother's shoulder; a bright, blush pink headband that said 'My little winner' on a red heart sprouting out the top, barely covered her bald head.

Leo stepped forward to hold the door for the woman and she smiled gratefully at him. "Which floor, ma'am?" Leo asked after the woman, and her husband stepped into the elevator.

"3 please," the woman asked cradling her child to her chest.

I felt like I was in the way of the poor people that stepped into the elevator, and attempted to maneuver my chair as close to the wall as possible; giving the obviously exhausted parents more room.

Leo pressed the button, then stepped next to me; placing his hand on the back of my neck and gently rubbed it.

I couldn't help but stare at the poor kid's headband. The My little winner on that headband kept haunting my thoughts.
I couldn't help but wonder if the kid had won only to find out whatever she conquered had come back.

I knew that feeling...

The feeling of being so victorious, so relieved, only to have the weight that you were no longer in remission, and that the cancer had come back, to crush you.
The fear and dread so strong that it made it hard to (not physically, but emotionally) breathe. It made it next to impossible to be positive that you would get better again.

"Ethan, are you serious? Do you even care how this will affect mom and dad? Jesus, do you even care...?"

I pressed my hands to my temples like I could just will the horrendous memories out of my brain. The horrible thoughts. Plans. That I'd made so selfishly. The escape I'd planned...