So Be It // o. maatta

Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Two

Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Two: Alex's POV

Beau sat with me, waiting for Olli to come out of surgery, for a good two hours, before he eventually fell into a dead slumber. I hadn't been paying much attention to him, seeing that I was beginning to doze off, myself, in complete spite of how damn stiff the hospital chairs were.

Frankly, he didn't really make himself overly noticeable until he starting to snore, rather audibly. It was slightly irritating, at first, but not necessarily irritating enough to get under my skin. And, anyhow, it was just the two of us in the waiting lobby, so it didn't matter how much of a racket he caused.

Well, it didn't matter much until Beau's light, occasional breaths suddenly morphed into sounds so hellaciously loud, it was almost like a freight train was barreling through the room, tearing past us. That was when it definitely started to matter, seeing that if began to get to the point that I couldn't even hear myself think.

For a good minute, or two, I let the kid go, thinking maybe the ruckus would die down, or there'd be a lapse, or something, which, retrospectively, ended up being incredibly, pathetically inaccurate. Instead of stopping, Beau just kept on trucking, and the snores themselves got louder, and louder.

Sooner rather than later, the white noise hit a fever pitch like no other, and I was driven sufficiently up the wall. Groaning internally, I rubbed the sides of my temples, and counted to five, trying to calm myself, before poking his shoulder, lightly.

"Bud, wake up." I whispered to the Californian, pretty boy beside me, who looked alarmingly not pretty, in that light, considering his head was hanging off, to one side, like he was some sort of corpse you'd see Ducky working with on NCIS, and he had a thick line of drool draining from the open space between his lips, down his chin.

Beau's eyelids fluttered, before opening up wide, exposing his exhausted-looking baby blues. The bags under his eyes were impressive, honestly, and surprisingly visible, since he did have such tan skin, and most of the time stuff like bags were difficult to see with darker skin.

"Alex," He mumbled, yawning, appearing almost as though he hadn't slept in days. Or weeks. "Hey."

I smiled a small smile, at him. "Hey, Sunshine. I think I'm gonna call Rob up, and see if he can drive you home, alright? You deserve to sleep in your own bed."

At first, he opened his mouth, slightly, like he had intentions to argue, but then prompted closed his jaw, like he'd thought the better of the scenario. In all honesty, he looked awful, and needed to get some rest.

Just as I began to futz with my phone, and calling Robert, a young, scary-skinny red-haired girl bounced towards me, seeming to appear out of the clear blue. Her 100% superficial ginger locks were wrapped up, at the top of her head, in some elaborate bun/braid/twist-y shit thing, that made me feel considerately better about my basic ponytail.

"Are you Miss Maatta?" The redhead asked, once she had approached. By the way she wore an identification badge on her breast pocket, I could tell she was an RN.

I cringed a little at the 'Miss'. 'Miss' was the name for some single chick; not a married woman. I was Mrs. Maatta, not Miss Maatta. And in all honesty, I probably would've pointed this out, hadn't I been a dangerously scary combination of sleep-deprived, and Olli-deprived.

"Yeah, that's me." I answered simply, not even beginning to address her previous grammatical offense.

"Your husband's out of the operating room, and back into Recovery Room Six, if you'd like to go pay him a vis-"

Before the words were out of her mouth, I was propelling myself from my chair -leaving Sunshine behind- and bursting down the hall, to where my husband resided. God, how I worried about him during the surgery, and just needed to see him. Once I saw him, alive and okay, I'd feel better, I'd decided.