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Never rise…
"I love you, Carlisle." I practice saying it, very quietly, over and over. Whenever his back is turned, during the eight hours he leaves the hospital to sleep, I whisper it. "I love you, Carlisle." I scarcely sleep, and usually only can while he's here. I'd want to spend the required unconscious hours during the time I can't see him, but I need the comfort.
"I love you, Carlisle." I spend the eight hours reading the books he smuggles in, fantastic stories the likes of which I had no idea existed, and whispering those four words.
"I love you, Carlisle."
I probably should keep it down. The other six or seven people on the ward, however, shuffle in and out so quickly in a day or two, that I don't worry about their opinion.
I am frightened one of the nurses will notice.
It's strange. Carlisle is kind to everyone, but I've never witnessed a conversation the likes of those he has with me… nothing nearly so intimate, so personal. He's mostly professional. I wonder why that is.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. Lying on a hospital bed incapable of movement wondering whether or not a man likes me. This is ridiculous.
I scoff at myself and grab the book left on the bedside table. Treasure Island. It is fascinating. The story moves so much quicker than I am used to. However, I am continually distracted. The book has nothing to do with the situation, and yet the tiniest things keep reminding me of him. "I love you, Carlisle."
In a few days, I will leave this hospital. I may never see him again. I have to decide whether or not I can tell him.
I am beginning to suspect he finds me at least intriguing. I know in physical attractiveness I cannot compare, but at least he enjoys my company.
It is a scandalous thing, a girl beginning a courtship with a man rather than the other way around, but Carlisle never seems to care what is and isn't proper.
Yet I am not sure I'll have the gumption to do it. I couldn't stand being rejected in that way…
I don't know what to do. But I think I have to wait. Waiting has never been easy for me, as I am naturally something of a restless person, but it seems the best choice.
Best choices stink.
I smile at that, and then laugh. The vibration sends shaking tremors down my painful leg, sending a fierce fire up my body. I would start crying, but that would only make it hurt more.
Though I am brave in most respects, if I do say so myself, I have always feared pain. This is so hard for me… the only thing getting me through it is Carlisle.
I am very glad Dr. Milers took sick that day, or this recuperation would be aided by my scolding parents, not by a warm-hearted cold-handed intelligent loving understanding man.
I put the book down in despair. He walks into the room just as I give up on comprehending the story.
Fallen forever…
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