I woke up in what seemed like the middle of the night with Patrick huddled in a lump in a chair beside the window. Obviously sleeping although I didn't know how he managed falling asleep like that. His whole body was covered in shadows, escaping all the small streaks of moonlight that managed to get through the blinds. His unruly hair was the only thing that gave him away. And the ability to sleep in every weird, small space imaginable.

My stomach cramped and before I was fully awake, I was already frantically searching for the basin the nurse had left on my bed stand. Trying to be quiet as well as fast, fumbling with all the dark things I couldn't identify. I just heard the noise of one falling to the ground and breaking. Probably a cup of tea I had never touched before. Finally I found the basin, only recognizing it by the brownish grey feel it had. Patrick moved and I stared back when he looked at me. Until I couldn't because my body forced me to heaved up everything I couldn't even remember eating in a really unpleasant way. Not the normal unpleasant way but in a way that made me think about how bad exactly it must be for him to wake up to me heaving in his direction.

"Sorry.", I managed to get out in between other things. It was less speaking and more bawling, too. Now I spent forever wondering if I should have just stayed quiet. But it wasn't really forever because I noticed he had gotten up and now his cold hands tucked my hair behind my neck and kept it there. I welcomed the cold with everything I still managed to be and let it wash away the thoughts. The cold and the dark hugged me in a good way; His fingers touched my neck in a good way. It made bad ways a little better. And his voice when he mumbled words into the cold turned everything around. It was still bad but only normal bad: Only bad while still feeling save and cherished.

At last I stopped vomiting and his voice started to get clearer.

"I'm here. Always will be. Promise."

From the tone of his voice I knew that he was more talking to himself than to me.

"Sorry.", was what I said again as soon as I could speak again.

"Don't. I will get you water. Don't get up. There are shards everywhere." He made me tuck my feet back into the bed and before I could protest he left with the basin and came back with a fresh glass of water and a new one.

"I called for the nurse.", he explained while picking up pieces of a teacup. "She wanted to examine you when you show signs of a concussion again."

"You don't have to do that." My hand reached out to him as if I could reach his shoulder to stop him from caring so much. Seeing him care so much made me imagine things that would probably never happen. I didn't want to go down that road again that he seemed to navigate so easily. He jumped from being on track right next to me, to coming dangerously close, to not being on the same road as me at all. I didn't know what he wanted. Well I did know what he didn't want. He wanted anything but me at the moment since he didn't kiss me when I clearly gave him the chance. But I also couldn't keep wondering on what road he was and carefully nourishing my hopes only to have them crushed again.

I tried a light hearted voice: "You really don't. It's not like you're my..." I tried to make it sound nice but however I turned it in my head, nothing good came out of it.

He stopped in his movement and met my gaze. He looked weird. Hurt. Like I really had said what I wanted to and didn't manage to make it not sound hurtful.

"You should rest. We will talk some other time." And the hurting was gone as fast as it had come and he was back to picking up the pieces.

There it was again. The tingling in my chest that spread dangerously close to my head and then it got into my mind before safety measures could be taken. I even felt it in my fingertips. I was on the road again. It would be a short ride until tomorrow when I would ask him to talk. But it was still violent and wild and it would leave me insane for sure some day. And the worst part was that I loved every single needle prick of the tingles that doomed me to hope for something better and more of him. I wanted to lean into this road and let it be my everything.

The nurse came in and talked and hurt my eyes with bright lights but most of all she disturbed the small lair of hopefulness that had covered Patrick an me. I tried to catch his eyes but he did his best to ignore me. He left because of some examination the nurse had to do because she seemed to fear for my modesty. He didn't come back until I was asleep again.

Some other time came the next day when Danny left for dinner at home with our parents and Patrick had no such obligations. We sat in silence and waited for the nurse of the day to bring my dinner. She had promised me some real food today, not only tasteless soup but just in case Danny had brought me some croissants from the local market. Bought with his own money, he had promised. Honestly I would have eaten them either way because I was starving.

The nurse came in and brought two trays of dinner. Patrick had all the nurses charmed with his smile and the tingles raged inside my chest.

We ate in silence and I started to be thankful for the absence of forced small talk. It was mere minutes until Patrick chose to break the silence.

"Your guy seems to be worried. He asked how you were multiple times."

"When?" I asked, probably too fast for Patrick's liking because he couldn't keep his brows from showing a bit of his disappointment.

"Few days ago. Two days ago. Yesterday. Today. He seems to be a bit clingy." Patrick smiled and his expression was too elaborate for it to be honest.

Tingles. I smiled. Not because of Lucas. But because of Patrick being jealous and the fact that he's trying to hide it. And terribly failing of course.

It was only a matter of time until he crashed his car off my road and I would be left to wonder where he and I took different turns. The tingles made me not care enough.

"What should I tell him?" He asked and stuffed his face with carrots for deflecting reasons.

It was the same games on the same road with the same ending in sight. But I sighed and played along, wondering if he knew what he did or if it was mere accidents to crush me like he did.

"I don't know any more. You tell me."

Staring.

Seems like I broke the game. Might as well make it unrepairable.

"Why don't you kiss me when Lucas is not around?" Somehow tears thought it was a good idea to mingle in the corner of my eyes. I couldn't see him on this road any more. His face told me he himself didn't know on what road he was supposed to be. And I, if I didn't constantly tell myself that it was better to know the truth, I almost regretted asking.

He laughed and it felt like cutting every tingle out of my body separately.

"You know why." His smile was relentless.

"Yes. But I don't understand why you behave as if you care about me if you don't want me."

His face blanked while I tried really hard to blink some misbehaving tears away.

The door opened with a bang but we didn't move, we didn't wince, we didn't blink. I wished for one second that he would tell me what was going through his head just once. Then he darted forward and it felt like he was about to kiss me, but his lips never touched mine. One blink after that, he was sitting in his chair again and a tear rolled from my lashes.

"Evening, my children. I brought some food for my poor sweetheart. I thought you were surely hungry. This country doesn't cater good hospital food." Mariah was busy, planting a plastic bag on my bedside table. "Oh sweetheart, what's wrong? Bad news? Tell me everything!"

"Nothing. No bad news. They said I could go home any day now. Good to see you." I dried my tear while she hugged me extensively.

"That's great! No need to be so grumpy. My hot dogs will cheer you up." She said and nonchalantly placed one in front of me, ignoring the other plate. "And you, Jane, you look like you've seen a ghost."

It took Patrick not one second to have a sassy response to that. "I'm a psychic. That's my job."

Mariah shot him a look that could have meant anything from a warning to acknowledgement and she turned to me again, ready to say something, when Patrick opened his mouth again.

"I should leave."