| This chapter contains explicit content for an 18+ audience only. |
I creep into the kitchen, my hand fumbling against the wall in attempts to find the light switch. "Come on, where is it?" I mumble.
"Up a little." a voice tells me as the light flicks on.
"Shit!"
The room lights up to reveal Sam perched on a stool in the kitchen with a bowl in hand.
"Sam, you scared the life out of me," I exhale, my hand clutching my chest. Talk about déjà vu.
"Sorry, sweetheart. I got my appetite back around 4am and couldn't stop thinking about Froot Loops." he shrugs and I laugh.
"You certainly look a lot better," I shake my head in disbelief. "Mind if I take your temperature?"
"Go ahead." he smiles.
I fetch the thermometer and place it in his ear, anxiously waiting for the reading. Meanwhile, he shovels spoonfuls of cereal into his mouth carelessly.
"A perfect reading, Sam. How do you feel?" I say happily. He smiles as he pours himself some more cereal.
"I feel a lot better than I did last night. Thank God it's finally passing." he sighs with relief.
"It's about time, huh?" I chuckle as he smiles at me with gratitude.
He places the now empty bowl onto the counter. "I can finally go back to bed with Dorothy." the wide smile on his face and the happiness in his eyes could melt my heart.
I wake Elijah to tell him the good news, receiving an equally relieved sigh. He came to the kitchen to see for himself, with Sam pouring a cup of tea and greeting him with a grin.
"I'm so glad he's getting better," he tells me, wrapping an arm around my waist.
"Me too."
"Family gathering in the kitchen?" Dorothy's voice startles us.
"Look," I tell her, pointing to her husband. Her eyes light up as she sees him comfortably sipping his tea and leaning against the counter.
"You two can finally get home now." Sam tells us, stirring the small spoon around the cup.
"No, no. We can stay another night just to be sure." I argue.
"Yeah, another night won't hurt." Elijah agrees.
"Both of you, home." he tells us sternly, wagging his finger in our direction.
"I feel fine. Go home and get some proper rest, I'll call you both tonight." he reassures us. I think as much as they enjoyed our company, they kind of want their alone time now, too.
"You're sure?" I furrow my brow.
"We're sure." Dorothy chimes from behind us, placing her hand on my shoulder.
"And you," she pokes Elijah's shoulder, "Get back to looking for another job."
"Yes, grandma." he chuckles.
"I'll pack our things, take them to your place whilst you're at work." he smiles.
"Stay with me tonight?" I ask with a raised brow.
"Of course."
I make myself a cup of coffee before I have to leave, the thought of being in my own apartment and getting more than two hours sleep tonight feels like bliss. I peer over to Dorothy and Sam who stand at the doorway to the kitchen. He looks at her with so much love, wrapping his arms around her gently. The simple gesture lighting up her features like never before.
"I love you," she tells him softly.
"I love you too. Always will." he responds with a wide smile across his face. He plants a kiss on her lips and leads her along the hallway, her hand securely in his.
I smile at the two, at how in love they still are. My chest begins to ache slightly and my eyes well. What is happening? I turn back to my coffee and wipe my eyes—the dull aching in my chest throwing me off. Why did that make me so... sad?
I wipe under my eyes once more and pull myself together. I guess it's just unusual to see couples still so in love after so long. I guess that must be it.
"Ready to leave?" Elijah chimes, shuffling into the room. He places our bags at the door and wraps his arms around my waist. "Thank you for coming here with me."
"Of course." I smile, still slightly thrown off by my emotions.
"We're leaving!" Elijah calls out through the house.
"I'll take this to go," I tell him, pouring my coffee into my travel cup.
"Why don't you just grab one on the way to the hospital?"
I cringe at the memory of the liquid shit I endured yesterday morning, "I'll stick to my homemade one."
Dorothy makes her way over to me with open arms, I smile as she encases me in them; the warmth of the fluffy gown she wears taking the edge off of the cold morning.
"Don't be a stranger, young lady," she whispers, stroking my back. "You're one of us now."
"I won't," I chuckle, kissing her on the cheek. "Thank you for everything."
She smiles in response before Sam nudges her out of the way, "Let me say goodbye to the girl, for God sake." he grumbles as he pulls me into a hug.
"Thank you, nurse." he jokes, holding me at arms length.
"I'm glad you're better, Sam." I tell him, trying to hold back my laughter from Dorothy's sour face behind him.
"You'd think I wasn't even in the room." Elijah groans, throwing his arms up.
We say our goodbyes and make our way back—thankfully Elijah and I made our way here separately, since I'm crossing a very fine line between being on time and not so fashionably late.
——————
"This is lovely," she smiles.
"I wish I had someone to bathe me, you're living the luxury life." I chuckle, bringing the sponge down her arm slowly.
Many patients tend to be embarrassed when they have to be given a bed bath, and I understand that. So, all I can do is make sure they're as comfortable as I can make them. After the first time the tension always eases away. Plus, it's certainly nothing I haven't seen before. It's mostly the elderly patients that struggle with feeling degraded that they can't do it themselves, so I give them my all to ensure nothing is uncomfortable.
"Amara?" A voice calls through the curtain.
"Yes?"
"After you've finished with Ms. Shepard, there's an issue with someone we could use your help with."
I sigh, "No problem, we're just finishing up."
She furrows her brow, "You're cheating on me?" she asks with a grin.
"Never, she's just a friend." I chuckle, drying her off.
After I get her tucked into bed safely, I make my way over to my most visited room. I peer at her chart on the way in to give myself a bit of background information on whatever 'issue' I'm about to deal with, and any changes since the last time I seen her.
"Hey, Barb." I smile, taking a seat at her bedside.
"Amara," she smiles, bringing my hand in between hers. She looks exhausted, more frail than I've seen her before.
"I feel sick," she tells me with a furrowed brow.
"How long have you felt sick for, Barb?"
"Just over an hour, I think. I lose track of the time in this place. I feel really sick." she groans, placing her other hand on her stomach.
"They're poisoning me." she whispers.
I cock my head, "Who is?"
"The other nurses, they have something against me. They whisper about me, they poison me." she tells me in a quiet voice, her eyes scanning the room.
I nod my head. I remember looking at her chart and reading about a new infection—what wasn't recorded was that there must be underlying delirium. She's delirious. Delirium is a side effect of the infection, and it can be so real to the patients. And if there's one thing you shouldn't do when dealing with someone suffering from it; it's tell them they're hallucinating.
"I see. Well I'll check that the anti-sickness meds don't interfere with your current ones, and I'll bring you something to help with that sickness—okay?" I explain to her and watch her sigh in relief.
"Make sure nobody else touches it, you can't trust them." she tells me with a worried expression.
"I'll make sure," I nod.
I fetch her some pills and a glass of fresh water to wash them down, placing them at her beside. "There you go, Barb. I'm the only one that touched them."
"Thank you." she tells me with gratitude. I watch as she swallows the tablets, sinking back into her pillow.
"My son is coming to visit later," she tells me with excitement, her face lighting up.
I smile in return, "Thats amazing, Barb. It'll be lovely to see him."
"Mhm," she nods, "I cant wait to see him. He's such a good boy." her voice is calmer and her smile is contagious.
I'm so glad that she's finally getting a visitor. She constantly talks about her son, but I've yet to see him visit. It'll do her the world of good to spend some time with him—and it puts my mind at ease.
I check my schedule, my head is so fuzzy from my lack of sleep that it feels like a big bowl of mush. I take in a sharp breath when I realise where I am next. At least once or twice a week I check in on patients in end of life care, just to make sure they're comfortable and get them whatever they need; nothing too much. But there's something about those rooms that just makes my heart stop.
Palliative care is one of the most important things I do here, but equally, and by far—one of the hardest.
I make my way into one of the single rooms to a patient I've visited a couple of times. His bedside light is facing away and his head is tilted against his pillow.
"How are you feeling?" I ask him, a small smile creeping onto his face as he sees me.
"I was just about to buzz for someone," he tells me quietly.
"What can I do?"
"I don't feel well," he tells me.
"How is your pain, on a scale of one to ten? One being barely noticeably, ten being unbearable." I ask, perching myself down at his level.
"I don't have any pain, not anymore," he whispers. "I just don't feel right."
"I'll check your chart, see what I can do." I tell him softly.
"Can I have a glass of water? A cold glass? Everything here is warm." he sighs, motioning to the bottled water on the table.
"Of course, I'll be right back."
I find him a glass of ice cold water, and make my way back to the room. I make a mental note to remove any warm bottles that are in his way and replace them with cold ones.
"Alright, John. It's no 5 star cocktail but you'll have to-"
I pause.
His eyes are closed and he doesn't respond to my words. I unintentionally tip the glass; some of the water spilling out onto the floor below. Oh god. I mumble to myself. I check his pulse, dreadfully conforming my suspicions.
My first instinct? To help. To do something—anything.
But, he has a DNR order. And there's nothing I can do—for the first time. I feel my blood run cold. Death, it's something I have to deal with here a lot, especially in such elderly patients and all the more when I become a nurse full time. But it never fails to make my heart sink. I've never dealt with a DNR before, and I respect their choices—but the feeling of total helplessness in that moment is horrifying.
I alert the nurse in charge, and she enters the room to carry out procedure. By the time everything is done, it's time for me to go home—and the aching in my chest is still present. Is it possible to ever become numb to the deaths I'm going to see so often? My heart aches for his family; his children.
——————
I close the door and scrub my hand over my face. I take a deep breath and place my jacket down, kicking my shoes off to relieve my sore feet.
"Hey, you're home," Elijah smiles as he enters the room. His brow furrows as he looks at me, "What's wrong?"
"Bad day," I shrug, walking towards him.
"What happened?"
"We lost a patient." I sigh, wrapping my arms around his torso. I rest my head on his chest and breathe in the familiar and calming scent.
"I'm sorry, baby." he tells me softly, rubbing his hand down my back.
"I went to get him some water and then he was just, gone," I mumble. "My first reaction was to help, to do something. But he had a DNR. I just had to let it happen."
"I'm so sorry." he sighs, holding me tighter.
I've seen deaths before, I've dealt with death before. I wonder how long it takes before it stops affecting me so, so much. I need to acclimatise to it, they tell me. And I will. But anyone with a good heart will feel the death of their patients. Nothing will change that.
I take a small step back and look up at Elijah, his green eyes are glistening under the light as he looks down at me with such love. He pushes some loose hair from my face and tucks it behind my ear, his other secured around my waist and his eyes never breaking from mine.
"Do you want to watch a movie?" he asks, his voice low and soft.
I stare at him for a second, my mind distracted from my emotions by how perfect he is. His perfectly chiselled face and the way his eyes are glowing, the sharp jawline that frames his face so beautifully. And the way he looks at me with so much love and kindness.
"No," I simply reply.
"What do you want to do?" he asks innocently, his thumb grazing against my cheek.
"I want you to take my mind off of how shitty my day was." I whisper, my hand pressing against his chest.
I watch the emotion in his eyes change as my hand drags slowly down his chest, trailing my fingers down his perfectly sculpted torso.
The corner of his mouth twitches into a small smirk, "You're sure that's what you want right now?" he asks, desperately trying to fight the grin on his face.
My hand stops abruptly above his belt buckle. "Couldn't be more positive." I smile, taking my lower lip between my teeth.
"That's all you need to say, love." his lips form a devious smirk.
His hands trail down my back to my thighs, swiftly lifting me up as his lips crash desperately down on mine. My legs secure around his waist as our tongues swirl carelessly together in a typhoon of lust. My intrusive thoughts from today are washed away as our kiss deepens, my brain unable to focus on anything but his hands securely on my body.
Our kiss breaks for a split second, and my eyes open to find that we had moved to the bedroom. My mind was so wrapped up in the moment that I hadn't noticed. I bring my lips back down on his, pulling his lower lip between my teeth slowly. A small moan escapes his lips, making a smirk appear on mine.
He throws me down onto the bed, my legs still wrapped around his waist. I watch from my place below him hungrily as he removes his shirt, followed by his belt. I impatiently wait for him to greet me again, the absence of his touch driving me crazy. Make me forget. I say to myself.
I prop myself up, removing my shirt—my impatience growing painful. He grins at me, snaking his arm around my back and unclipping my bra. I slide the straps down my arms as he pulls my leggings off effortlessly. Leaving me in my thin underwear alone.
I lean forward and unbutton his jeans, pulling them down quickly. I smirk, knowing that apparently—he's just as eager as me.
He pushes me backwards, climbing atop me and bringing his lips to the nape of my neck. He kisses it slowly, grazing his teeth along the delicate skin as my head tilts back in euphoria. I wrap my legs around his waist once more, pulling him down towards me. I bite my lip as I feel his erection pressed against my thigh.
Fuck this, I want him now.
I grab his face, bringing my lips to his. I kiss him with urgency, lust—hunger. He pulls back, taking a familiar foil packet from the cabinet. I don't try to hide my grin as I watch him roll it on, readying himself for me. I remove my underwear, watching them fall to the floor as he licks his lips discretely.
He wastes no time, bringing himself down to me and kissing me once more. I take in a sharp breath as he pushes himself inside of me with no warning. I moan against his lips as I warm to his presence.
My nails find their way to his back, dragging their way into his skin as he pushes deeper, reaching the perfect spot each time without fail. I listen to him groan against my lips as he fastens his pace, his hand entangling itself in my hair.
He tugs on my hair gently as he thrusts himself deeper, knowing exactly the way to drive me crazy. I roll my head back in ecstasy, his lips finding my neck in my absence.
I press my thighs against his body as I feel myself getting closer, only fuelling him more. "Fuck," he groans against my neck, almost sending me over the edge.
I feel my walls tighten against him as his perfect sounds fill my ears, I can't hold on much longer—and neither can he. His face is twisted in beautiful pleasure as his body collides with mine; my skin feels as though it's on fire under his touch.
I throw my head back once more with a loud moan, feeling myself come undone as he spills into the condom. His heavy breath prickling against my skin. He thrusts a final few times as we both relish in the ecstasy, trying to catch our breaths.
He slowly stands himself up, looking down at me with a devious smile on his face. His gold locks cling to his forehead as he reaches closer to me once more.
"Take your mind off it?" he grins.
{a/n: I hope you're all enjoying the story so far, there's so much more to come. But everything's gotta start somewhere, right?
And of course, cheers to the first sex scene of TBIE so far.
Instagram: @downfallwrites }