Peaches

Sixteen

"It doesn't appear that you hit any major organs, but we do have to get you stitched up and-"

"You gonna give me some morphine?" He grinned through his pain.

"The doctor will determine what we need to do for pain." She said stiffly, her eyes flicking from Chris to me. "For now, you need to keep applying pressure and Dr. Morgan will be in here to get you all stitched up."

"Are you joking me right now?"

I could strangle this woman right here and now.

"He's just finishing up with another patient on the third floor." She nodded at me, speaking slowly like I was a child who needed careful exaggerated diction. "He will be as fast as he can, mam."

"I don't really care for the tone you're using."

Instead of fueling my fire, she smiled and threw Chris's bloody shirt into the biohazard bin, then finally left the room. As any smart person would do, especially with my temper being tested so carelessly. I'm sure I didn't look like I was enjoying myself, being that I am covered in my boyfriend's blood.

Boyfriend?

"How are you really feeling?" Seeing him sit so stiffly, obviously in a great amount of pain, was challenging enough for me to just watch. I can't imagine how he might be feeling.

"I'm still doing just fine baby, just ready for that morphine drip."

"What does it feel like right now?" I blinked quickly, crossing my legs over each other. "What's it like? Is it numb?"

He let out a short laugh, eyes twinkling at me with tenderness. "No, it don't feel numb." Slowly, he peeled away the gauze and showed me the deeper puncture. Two inches long, at most, but who knows how deep. "It feels like it's on fire."

Wincing as I caught sight of the wound, I turned my head away for a moment. "My Lord Jesus, that's horrible."

"It looks bad, but I promise it ain't nothin' but a lil' poke."

"But it feels bad, right? I'm sorry," I stopped myself, wiping my forehead anxiously. "I just want to know you're gonna be okay. That's all, and I'm sorry-"

"Bri." He stopped me, holding out his free hand. "Look at me. Look at my hand, okay?"

My eyes were hesitant as they dropped to his palm, outstretched flat towards me. "Christian, what the hell am I looking at right now?"

"I'm not shaking." He pulled his hand back to his lap. "Yeah, it hurts, but I'm tellin' you I can handle it."

"You're crazy, you know that? Absolutely wild, and just one of a kind." Sarcasm dripped from my tone, but I felt it deep in my gut. Who acts this nonchalant when threatened with the possibility of death? Surely, if he had been stabbed just a little more inward, it would've hit something. What if I lost him tonight?

Something would die in me.

"So are you, girl. Don't get me started."

"Who did this to you, Chris?" I swallowed hard, pinching my leg as it bounced up and down.

"Well, that's what I wanna talk to you about." He cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. "The cops are gonna talk to me about this, okay? They're gonna report this- the hospital is, and I can't be saying what really happened."

"Okay." I chewed on my lip, becoming aware of the constant tapping of my flip flop against the white tile floor. "So, what are we going to say?"

"We were out on a date and while we were walking to the car, a guy wearing a black hoodie with blue stripes on the side tried to rob us."