In Which Magenta Tastes Forbidden Fruit.

Disclaimer- You expect me to own stuff? Okay... jkjkjkjkjkjkjk! Anyway,

September

Magenta's eyes travelled a second time over the creamy-coloured ceiling of her hospital room. It had been a year since her brother's suicide and the events involving a run-down castle in Denton Ohio, since she had tried to go home. If the laser hadn't been broken, everything would be fine, and she'd be back in Transylvania, cured of the leukemia that had been in her life for twenty years, she felt stupid for not expecting it to get this bad, after the ten-year lull left over from middle school. She was confined to her room, 22, possibly on the verge of death.

...

Columbia burst into the depressing room, almost giving Magenta a heart attack.

"HEY, you're never going to believe this, I almost pissed my pants I was so excited!"

"Okay. Unnecessarily disgusting."

"Sorry, okay, so I met a guy yesterday and he has a friend and I showed him a picture of you, he heard the word cancer, turns out, he has a fetish for amputees-"

"Which I'm not…"

"…And somehow he just GANKED your number right out of my phone so… funny story, he wants to meet you! And you know, for the date, I'm gonna have to ask you to sit on top of your left leg and come in a wheelchair…"

"That's weird. And I'm not available tomorrow, in case you haven't noticed."

"Genta, please?" Columbia pleaded like a 4year old. "I don't want to have to tell him you're not interested, he's weird, he creeps me out."

"Find somebody else."

"God, you're impossible.

"So, wait, who did you meet?"

"His name is Jonathan. Hot as shit. He works here, so you might meet him sometime, he's an oncologist."

"Oh God, you're dating an oncologist?"

"Yes. Is that a problem?"

"Oncologists are annoying."

Columbia scoffed, "Stop making generalizations!"

The next day, Columbia was busy so Magenta was bored. She stalked people on Facebook for a few hours but it got boring so she just stared at the wall.

There was a thump on her door, it wasn't the noise someone makes when they knock, it was like a face on the glass.

Which is exactly what it was.

The guy had his face pressed up against the postage-stamp window in her door, he had brown hair and glasses and-fucking shit. Magenta thought to herself, Of course he'd follow me to New York.

Brad Majors of Denton Ohio was outside her door.

Magenta's mind skipped between answering the door like a nice person or just hiding, she was about to backflip behind her bed when he opened the door.

"NO." Magenta snapped forcefully, pointing to the door, "GET OUT OF HERE, YOU PERVERT, BEFORE I CALL SECURITY."

"Hey, I don't want to rape you, okay?"

"I don't care, get your ass out of here."

"No, I'd remember you anywhere. Nobody has hair like that."

"Do you try to find people you know? In a hospital, do you just look into peoples' windows until you see someone you recognize?"

"No, but I saw your hair out of the corner of my eye and… it's you. Brad Majors, nice to see you again."

"It's been a year, how did you remember me?"

"…I broke up with Janet."

"I did not need to know that but now it seems even creepier that you're here."

"I'm… uh… I'm actually worried, okay? Could we maybe talk sometime, maybe, like, tomorrow?"

"Um, I d-…?"

"Great, here's my number..." Brad scribbled his number on a scrap of paper, "I guess I'll see you…"

With those three words, Brad Majors left the room.

Magenta must have fallen asleep, because when she opened her eyes, another guy was standing over her.

"Hi! I'm Dr Majors, nice to meet you."

"Okay, what the fuck…"

"Excuse me?"

"You were literally just here."

"Oh, cute, you've had a lot of morphine. Call me Jonathan." Okay, so maybe this was Columbia's new friend. "So, Magenta Alvarado? That sounds exotic."

"Do you have any brothers? Please say no."

"Uh yeah, I have two, Brad and Steve." Shit. "So, you're 22."

"I see you've been reading my charts."

"You're too sexy to be in a hospital."

"Ew. Why would you…"

"Moving on. So… On a scale of one to ten where would you say your pain level is?"

"Like, six-and-a-half?"

"Alright, how do you feel?"

"Sick, I guess, tired. I haven't slept for 10 straight hours since Thursday-"

"I've been told the type of leukemia you have, and luckily, it's a very common type, very treatable, so death in your case in unlikely, but your pain level will probably be going up to about a nine with the chemotherapy."

"In all fairness, this is nothing new, I've had this since I was 2."

"Experience, I like it."

...

Brad came by the next day, Magenta fought the urge to violently strangle him.

"So, you feeling better?"

"You're an asshole."

"I know." Brad sat on the end of her bed. "You're actually beautiful, once I really look at you."

"Thanks, I guess."

"I hope more people tell you that."

"You're really weird. Okay, one thing you should know is that you can't treat me differently because I'm sick, it's okay to be pissed at me, it's okay to tell if I do something stupid, don't call me inspiring. I'm not inspiring."

"But you've had this for a while, it's commendable."

"You read my charts, didn't you?"

"Jonathan… uh, he has all his patients' charts."

"Are you really that interested?"

"I don't know why I'm so interested in you, you're just different."

"I don't know if that's good or not."

"Magenta… you're not going to want to hear this but… I'm interested in… you."

Magenta leaned forward and brushed her lips against Brad's face, stopping when her IV beeped in protest, he returned the kiss but jumped back with a horrified expression on her face. Magenta smirked,

"Why'd you stop?"

"I'm so sorry…"

"No, you're a pretty damn good kisser."