HOSPITALITY

[004] INDEPENDENCE.

TW :: panic attacks.

Shuichi's body was covered in an entire layer of sweat, his nerves and body shaking profusely underneath the cold air.  His head was pounding viciously, his eyes feeling as if they could pop out of his skull in any given moment.

Shuichi's mind was racing, ears ringing from all the pained screaming that had been playing continuously inside his head.  His eyes darted across each familiarity of the room, before he evened his breathing and kneaded his fingers inside the covers.

Another terror.

The moonlight outside blared through the curtains, the starry sky sparkling against the thin fabric in tranquility. His bedside table basking the mysterious dark-navy box in all its glory; like the rose from The Beauty And The Beast, showcasing its beauty and importance through a casted, magical light.

The detective quickly smothered his observation, focusing around his surroundings intently and finding himself observing again.

Shuichi used his palms to scoot himself back against the headboard, shifting his stare around the room and spotting the clock. He viewed the time, his question quickly being answered.

3:36AM.

Shuichi let a disappointed sigh heave from his chest, his shoulders loosening around the sockets before quickly tensing back up. His wheelchair tauntingly meeting his gaze unexpectedly from the right side of his bed, the leather seat reflecting the outside moonlight ominously.

The beads of sweat on his forehead grew, looking back at the red button next to his hospital bed and consuming himself with an idea.

☽༓☾

"Saihara..! You want to roam a-around all by yourself..?!" The brown-haired nurse perked her body up, an indecisive look spreading around her face. Shuichi nodded, waving the notebook in her face sternly.

'Help me into the wheelchair.'

The woman seemingly only grew more distressed, her teeth clenching inside her mouth nervously. He skimmed his eyes over her, landing his eyes on each detail of her appearance.

She had a long and brown ponytail, which plowed into the air and swirled around like an ice cream cone. The nurse's light-blue gown swayed by her sides, tightening around her chest and zipping up to cover any cleavage that basked in the air. Her dark-chocolate skin gleaming goldenly around the star-lit light, whilst she let her blue eyes fall down on the detective as well. A large paper-sticker stuck next to her shoulder, displaying a name—which she'd had most likely preferred. It's letters bold with sharpie, it read, 'Aoi Asahina.'

"It isn't safe to go around in your current condition..." Aoi crossed her arms underneath her chest. "You could get s-seriously hurt!"

Shuichi shrugged, pointing his index finger at the leather chair, which earned an even more hurtful glare from the doctor. "Saihara, you can't go out your room alone!"

The detective reached for his notebook, tracing over his words with bold and sharp lines, emphasizing his point dramatically. 'Help me into the wheelchair.'

Aoi shook her head, grabbing at the wheelchair and holding onto the handles tightly. Her slightly-sharp fingernails burying into the soft rubber slanted around the two bars. Shuichi shook around the paper more, the words sliding and streaming across the pestered brunette's vision, as if the boldening words were a disease; or a plague.

Despite her pleading for the detective to give up his idea, she caved in, a pitiful, sorrow expression tugging at her facial features. "Fine, Saihara. Fine, you win, alright?"