Mitch POV
The seven hours that Scott was gone were honestly the longest I'd ever experienced. He came back not a minute late, but his face looked so much better. A smile spread across his lips as soon as he walked through the door.
He walked over to my quickly and kissed me on the forehead. "How are you feeling?" He asked, his eyes scanning me. He frowned, his eyes searching my face, but I pretended not to notice.
"Fine," I shrugged. "And you? You're looking about 10,000x better than you did earlier."
He nodded, ignoring my question. His eyes were locked on my face still.
"Is everything alright?" I asked, snapping him back to reality.
"Huh?" He muttered. "Oh, yeah. I'd just forgotten how bad your face looked."
I feigned offense, "Well then." I snapped sassily.
He laughed lightly, his eyes not matching his tone. "You know what I mean."
I smiled, "Yeah, although I haven't actually looked in a mirror yet. I'm afraid to. I don't want to see myself looking so hideous."
"You're always handsome," he said, his finger slowly tracing my jawline.
He slid his fingers over my lips and a shiver ran through me. He retracted his hand immediately.
"Sorry, did that hurt?" He asked.
I simply shook my head.
"Have you gotten any sleep since I left?" he questioned, his eyes fixed on the dark circles that I assumed were under my eyes.
I shook my head again, "I'm not tired." I lied.
He glared at me, "I hope you know that you are a terrible liar."
"I'll go to sleep when I go to sleep," I whined.
He kissed the back of my hand softly. "Okay," he whispered, giving in more quickly than I thought he would.
"So what all did you do at home?" I asked, looking for a new subject of conversation.
He suddenly looked upset, "Oh my gosh, I completely forgot your laptop."
I shrugged, "That's okay. When I asked for it I was mostly just trying to come up with a reason to make you go home."
He smiled slightly.
"So," I started, my tone shifting to serious.
He looked at me, the light draining from his eyes.
"There's something I should tell you," I started.
He nodded, "Okay."
"So, after the surgery, the doctor told me that because the cuts in my wrists were so deep, there was chance that I would never regain full feeling in my left hand. Some of the tendons were severed and he said it's nearly impossible to make them as good as new." I took in a deep breath, trying to keep my voice from shaking as I explained the next part, "But even though he'd said that, my hands seemed fine. I didn't experience any of the numbness he was telling me about."
"So, that's good, right?" Scott asked, seeming confused.
I nodded, a tear forming in my eye. It was stupid to be upset over something so small when I had almost died. "But then Trevor showed up," I couldn't stop my voice from breaking.
"Wait, what?" He asked. "What does Trevor have to do with it?"
I sighed, "I have to tell you what happened when he broke in to the hospital..."
I tried to breathe as Trevor stepped closer to me.
"Hey, Mitch." He said, his voice full of disgust.
"Get out of here," I whispered, "Or I'm going to scream for help and you're going to be arrested."
He lunged forward and clamped his hand over my mouth. I tried to yell, but it was so weak to begin with that once he'd muffled it with his hand, almost no sound came out.
"Now, you listen," he articulated, his voice low. "This is how this is going to work. You come with me. I have a change of clothes right here," he said, pointing to a backpack he was wearing. "We're going to walk out of this hospital like civilized people. You cooperate and I don't kill you."
I stared at him, my breaths ragged. He pulled his hand off of my mouth, but I was too terrified to make any sound come out. He began pulling clothes from his bag.
"No," I finally whispered. "I'm not going with you. Kill me if you want to, but I won't do that."
His eyes flashed up to me. "Excuse me?" he asked angrily.
"You heard me," I snapped, my confidence fading with each passing second.
He grabbed my left wrist, holding it gently in his hand. He looked at it for a second and then smiled sickly. He unwrapped the bandage they'd put on it to reveal a thin scar with stitches covering it.
He laughed and then dug his fingers into the wound. I screamed. It was the most painful thing I'd ever felt in my entire life. Being stabbed seemed minor to this level of pain. My mind began to roam between consciousness and unconsciousness as the pain threatened to make me pass out.
"...next thing I remember was waking up with a bunch of police officers surrounding me." I finished. "But now, I can only have about 40% feeling in that hand," I said, my voice soft and sad. "He took it away from me."
Scott's eyes gleamed with hatred as he quickly stood up and left the room without saying a word.
