"I'm sorry." He rushes out. August looks down at his hands. "It's all my fault, and I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry for everything." He shakes his head. When I try to stop him, he just continues to speak.
I try to lean up to stop him from rambling, but it hurts so much to move, but I keep trying.
It pains me to see him like this. It hurts to know that he blames himself.
"I believe you, London. I fucking believe you, and I am so fucking sorry that I didn't believe you when you first told me. I wish I could take back all of the things I said. I lied when I said you weren't worth it because, London, you mean everything to me. If I never made that bet on you, you would have never crashed, and you wouldn't be here. I'm s-sorry, I'm so fucking sorry-"
I cut him off when I managed to pull myself up. I pull him to me, hugging him and letting all of his warmth surround me, engulfing me in the familiar feeling that I have missed so much.
I let out a breath. "It's not your fault, August." His arms tighten, causing me to hiss in pain.
"Shit." He tries to pull back, but I stop him, just wanting to hold him a bit longer. August lifts his head to look up at me. His hazel eyes searched my eyes for god knows what.
"Can I fix us?" I like the sound of it. "You already have." I smile at him.
Knowing August, he's going to do more to make it up to me, but just him believing me was enough.
Even if August tried to get me to hate him, I don't think I could.
But I'm not quite sure if that is a good thing yet, but we figured it out. I shift to the side, making room on my bed.
I patted the empty spot. "Lay with me?" August gives me a look like he is not sure what to do.
"I sleep better when I'm with you." I say with a yawn. August slowly climbs into the bed, making sure not to pull my iv.
Once he is comfortable, or more like the comfiest you can get in this tiny bed, I rest my head on his chest, listening to the beat of his heart.
***
The next few days moved quickly. Everyone came to visit me. I told August he should go to work, but he argued with me, telling me he wasn't going to go back to work until I'm fully healed, which I think is completely stupid because I'm fine.
But I would be lying if I didn't think it was cute.
"The doctor said you can't lift things because you can rip open your stitches." August tries to stop me from pulling my hospital bag out his car.
I roll my eyes at him and lift it out of his trunk.
"Oh fucking hell." I groan, holding my side. August's eyes widen. I laughed, not being able to hold it together any longer.
August huffed, snatching the bag from my hand. "Aww, are you worried about me, pretty boy?"
He didn't look at me, but I could tell he was blushing because of how red his ears were getting. I slowly follow August as we walk to his apartment.
I was slightly surprised at how nice and expensive this place is.
I told August I was fine at my place, but he demanded that I stay with him for the time being.
There are a lot of things I'm going to have to get used to. Like, letting other people care for me is still weird.
Or being asked if I'm feeling ok or how I'm doing still feels a bit weird, but I'm getting used to it.
But it's a good kind of weird, if that even makes any sense. August unlocks the door to his apartment, holding it for me.
Jesus, this place is fucking huge.
My jaw drops as I look around the place. The living room is bigger than my whole apartment. It looks barely lived in.
Everything is neatly put in place. It was nice, but not like I expected. I turn to him and ask. "How long have you lived here?"
"Like 2 years. I got this place when my company took off." He shrugs, placing my hospital bag on the neat couch.
The couch looked brand new; everything looked brand new. I would have expect the place he lived to be a bit more him.
Like his dorm, for example. That was him. His room was littered with books and paper, yet it was clean. "Why?" I hear him come up behind me. I shrugged before turning to face him again.
"It doesn't seem like you." I answered shortly.
August's brows knit together like he didn't understand what I meant. Letting out a sigh. "It doesn't look lived in. Like your barely ever here." I explain.
August mouths an 'oh.' a sad smile forming on his lips. "It's because I'm mostly working." He muttered before walking into the kitchen, leaving me in the huge living room.
I watch him move around the kitchen. Why would he always be working if it's his company?
I hear him huff before slamming the refrigerator door. I laugh to myself. He's cute when he's mad.
"You alright there, pretty boy?" I ask from the living room. August lifted his head to look at me.
"No." He huffed out in annoyance. Did I do something wrong already? You've got to be fucking kidding me.
I try to rethink what I could have done wrong but find nothing. My brows pull together due to being confused.
"I don't have any food in there." He points to the fridge. "And now I can't cook you anything." I try everything to keep from smiling, but I fail miserably.
I stare at him in awe, admiring him from afar. "God, you're perfect." I whisper to myself.
Sorry this chapter is short but it's a cute one so hope that makes up from it.