Mitch POV
Do I smell coffee? I popped up, immediately regretting it as a sore ache coursed through my body. I winced.
"Easy," Scott's voice rang from across the room.
I opened my eyes and saw him walking through the door with two cups of coffee in his hands. He held them up as I laid back down, "I thought we'd celebrate. The doctor called this morning and said that your no-coffee diet is officially over."
I smiled. Thank god. He walked over and took a seat on the bed beside me, gently placing my cup in my hand. I sipped it, it's deliciousness swirling around in my mouth. I couldn't help a pleasureful moan that escaped my lips.
Scott giggled beside me and I shot him a glare. "What?" I defended, as if it was completely normal to make sexual noises toward one's coffee.
He just shook his head and took a sip of his own. "The lawyer also called this morning," he started, his voice a bit more serious. "He wants to know when is the earliest that we can get started."
I shrugged. "Anytime," I motioned down toward my wounded body, "it's not like I have anything else to do."
Scott seemed hesitant. "Don't you want to at least wait until you're healed?"
"If it gets me out of this bed then I don't care what we do," I joked half-heartedly.
Scott offered a weak laugh in return, but I knew he was uncomfortable with the idea.
I sighed. "Look, if you think it's too much then we can wait," I comforted.
He looked down at me, his blue eyes whirling with a range of emotions. "It's ultimately your decision, I just don't want you overworking yourself."
"I'm fi-"
Scott cut me off with a glare. Yesterday we'd decided that the word 'fine' was off limits because apparently I use it too much. I laughed at his seriousness, but his glare didn't let up.
I sighed again, dramatically louder this time, "Alright, alright. We can wait until next week."
He seemed pleased with this answer as he returned to sipping his coffee.
I stared at the wall, the boredom already suffocating me less than ten minutes after waking up. "Can I please move to the couch?" I asked after a moment of silence, making Scott jump slightly.
He laughed. "Bored already?"
"At least that room has a TV in it," I groaned.
He smiled before setting his coffee down on the nightstand and getting to his feet. I set mine down as well and sat back up, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. I took his hands that he held out to me and he gently pulled me to my feet. As soon as I was standing, he removed his hands and wrapped one around my waist, supporting most of my weight.
"I can walk, you know," I reminded him.
"Yes, but are you supposed to?"
I groaned again, earning a slight chuckle from him.
The journey from the bed to the couch shouldn't have taken nearly as long as it did, but we managed to stretch the whole walk out for a good three minutes. Finally, he settled me down onto the couch and I stretched my body, trying to hide the pain that the movements caused me. Stretching hurt worse than anything, but my body was so stiff that I simply had to do it.
"You alright?" He asked before sitting down in the chair beside me.
I nodded, not trusting my voice. The wound on my stomach continued to throb wildly as I calmed my breathing to a normal rate. Okay, perhaps I wasn't as 'fine' as I'd like to lead on.
"You need something for the pain?"
I laughed, "Yeah cause that worked out so well for me the last time."
He shrugged, "I could always call the doctor and have him prescribe you something different."
I simply shook my head in response.
Scott was silent for a moment before picking up the remote and flipping the tv on. "Any requests?" He asked, flipping through the guide.
I looked up at him conspicuously.
He laughed, reading my mind. "Spongebob it is."
