I sit in that corridor until 3 in the morning; I stare endlessly into the big white walls and breathe in the smell of sick people covered up with the smell of sterile disinfectant.

It brings back memories, and that's why I am having a hard time coping, waiting for someone, someone you love, someone that holds a place in your heart. Waiting for them to come out of the room, come and tell you that they are alright.

I didn't have that happen to me, I had a doctor, wearing his big white coat, he came up to me as a small boy, I was only 7 that day, that day that my mother passed away. I was sitting on the plastic orange chairs, scuffing my feet on the floor; they all came up to me, sympathy written all over. They explained that she had gone somewhere peaceful, that she had finally gone somewhere where she can be happy and not live in depression.

Tears didn't spring from my face, only blankness; I turned hollow, and became shy. I didn't talk, I didn't smile. All I did from that day was carry on going. Because –

Because I am still living for my mother.

These corridors scare me, not because of the smell, or the faint noise of heart machines. Not because of the big doctors or the people strapped to chairs.

What really scares me is losing the person you love, and not being able to say goodbye.

It's stupid because I know Phil is going to be ok, he just cut his leg open, he lost a lot of blood. The nurse told me earlier that I saved his life. I saved his life by getting him off the rocks and applying a shirt and compressing to stop the blood flow. It formed a clot which stopped the bleeding. He didn't lose enough, to –, you know die.

I stir restlessly in my chair, the corridor stays silent and nobody comes to reassure me. I am sitting on my own, my clothes and hair still wet with saltwater, my eyes are straining because of lack of sleep, but I'm not leaving until I see Phil.

"Mr Howell?" I hear a nurse as she walks along the corridor.

I slowly get out of my seat; I run my hands over my eyes and through my hair.

"Yes."

"Mr Lester wants to see you."

I ring my hands and quietly follow her to his room, I close my eyes and enter, the beat of the heart monitor and the smell of metal overwhelms me.

"I will leave you for a bit, I will be back soon to give you your medication." She turns on her heel and walks out of the room.

I look over and him, his hair still raven black and his eyes vibrant blue. His face breaks into a smile.

"You waited for me!" He beams.

I give a small smile and walk over to his bed. I look for his leg but it's covered in blankets.

He looks at me and then gives a laugh "Want to see?"

"Not really."

He lifts up the blankets to reveal a massive gash down his leg, it's red and swollen and stiches have now sewn the open flesh back together.

"Can you feel it?" I walk nearer to the bed.

"A bit, but I have taken so much morphine, so I can just feel numbness." He quickly covers the blanket back up.

I suddenly walk right to the bed and place my hands on the blanket. "May I?"

He turns his head in confusion.

I carefully lift up the blanket and stare the wound in the face; I shudder a tiny bit but, bend down and plant a kiss on his leg. Magic kisses.

Something my mother used to do for me when I had hurt myself, this was when we my Dad was around, we were one happy family, we used to ride on our bikes for miles and miles out into the country. One day I fell off my bike and grazed my knee. I started crying but my mother knelt down a kissed my leg. It made what seemed like the end of the world turn into something not so bad, I dried my tears and my leg felt better. A tear begins to drip from my face; I clear the image of my mother out of my head.

I kiss Phil's leg again; he twitches slightly but doesn't move, I keep on kissing the wound. Eventually I pull away. The tear from my face is quickly wiped away by my sleeve.

"What was that?" He smiles.

"Magic kisses, to make you feel better." I walk towards the head of the bed. I perch on a stool, Phil rests his head on my neck.

"They've worked then." He giggles. I let a small laugh escape my mouth as well.

I rest my hand on his chest, feeling him breathe, rise and fall. We sit in silence for a couple of minutes, a serene smile plastered all over his face.

"What happened Phil?" I eventually say.

"I was running to get you, but it was so dark I couldn't see much so I ran into some rocks and then fell over, the big stones cut right through my leg and that is how this happened." He gestures to the wound.

"I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for Dan; there is nothing to be sorry about." He removes his head from my shoulder and looks me in the eyes.

"What?" I ask.

He snaps out of his gaze. "Oh, erm nothing." He shakes his head. "I am so tired."

I stand up, "Let me give you some time to sleep then, I will be outside." I give a convincing smile, not looking forward to be spending more hours in the corridor.

I walk away from his bed and open the door.

"Wait." He shouts. I turn around.

"What?" I run my hands through my hair; oh shit I really need a shower.

"Stay with me." He whispers.

I nod, I walk towards the bed, I sit down on the stool, but Phil shakes his head. He points to the bed.

I open my eyes in surprise.

He sticks his lip out and makes his eyes bigger.

I give a tiny laugh.

He removes the duvet and invites me in. The hospital bed is really small but I manage to fit next to Phil. I lie down and I put my arm around him, he rests his head on my chest. The covers are warm and special, my heart begins to race. Phil smiles and pecks me on the lips, a sensation runs through my body.

I lean over and turn the room's lamp off, we lay in darkness, the only sound is the rise and fall of our breathing in synchronisation. I close my eyes and get closer to Phil, my other hand intertwined with his.

"Dan." I hear a whisper.

"What?" I breathe back.

"I just want to tell you that I think I am falling in love with you." I open my eyes to meet his, we are nose to nose, his eyes illuminate the dark room.

"I think I am falling in love with you as well." I squeeze his hand tighter, just like that he shuts his eyes again, this time he drifts off into a deep sleep.

I keep my eyes open watching him, he looks so happy and peaceful. My heart feels like it's singing inside of my chest. I brush the hair out of his forehead and kiss it.

"Night Phil."

That night I descended into a sleep full of hope and promise for the future, unlike the tangled nightmares that usually greet me. Tonight was the start that made me feel like I have a chance to be with him. I have a chance to be with the guy I am pretty sure is the one.