Special thanks to my lovely ladies, Lou and Nancy, for pre-reading and betaing. Thanks to all of my readers who have shared their thoughts.
Stephenie Meyer owns the original characters.
A/N: I'm working 12 to 14 hour shifts these days and I know I won't be able to post tomorrow, so the update comes a day earlier. Hope you enjoy.
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Previously:
While I turn the ignition key, a thought makes me freeze in my spot. What ifDad has alerted some Ethical Committee or whatever institution deals with unprofessionally behaving physicians? Or, what if he asks me to quit my job?
Oh shit. Shit.
It takes me a minute to gather myself together and pull away. My Volvo hums a soothing tune during the drive, and when I arrive at the parking lot, I'm almost composed. Almost.
Are you awake, Jasper? My mind rushes ahead, picturing me at his bed, reaching for his hand, holding it. Do you think I'm obsessed, Jasper?
Chapter 4
I have enough brain cells in my head to know I can't start a conversation about obsessions with a person who has barely seen me. In the morning, after inquiring about the patient's condition, Chief Swan expelled us all from the room for the sake of the investigation's quick success. I've had no verbal exchange with Jasper since the wrong awakening two days ago.
My temples throb with an uninvited headache. The car engine is still running, and there's a second or two during which I am ready to hit the gas pedal and disappear, back home, or better, into the woods, or maybe to Canada to find a new life. I squeeze the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white - pale white, unhealthily white. Something makes me look at myself in the rear viewmirror, and the same unhealthily white color has rendered my face hostile. It's frightening. I look frightening. My eyes are not their usual green, but a dark, indescribable color, alien. Maybe it's the poor illumination?
You can't go in looking like that, Cullen. Get your shit together.
A loud rumble of thunder sounds somewhere near. A car alarm across the lot goes off, and it starts raining, fat raindrops splashing over the car window and blurring the outlines of the hospital. With the downpour, I'll enter soaking wet, and no one will notice my paleness. Probably.
Right.
At last, I'm ready to kill the engine and step out.
When I enter the hospital, the receptionist waves at me and smiles hesitantly. I wave back.
Good girl, no conversations. So far, so good.
I stride down the corridor with the quickest pace possible, trying not to look like I'm consciously rushing. There's the door, and there's the door handle.
Use your hand, Cullen.
Fuck. I can't.
Yes, you can. Just go in, look at him, and analyze what you're feeling. Then talk, if he's not asleep.
How stupid am I? I have to knock first.
I square my shoulders and produce the tiniest knock on the door.
"Come in?"
The barely audible answer sounds more like a question. Okay, I should go in. End of hesitation.
I push the handle.
I have no time to look at him, nor analyze. He suddenly jumps out of his bed, pulling the IV out of his arm and knocking its stand to the floor, producing a horrid noise. I blink and stare until he doubles up with pain, and that's when I rush forward and hold him in my arms. My knees buckle under the weight of his shaking body, and I sit on his bed. I hold him, but he tries to wriggle his body out of my grip. I don't know what to do with him, so I let go, and he falls to the floor, sitting in a helpless mess, his back leaning against the nightstand.
He whines, and tears stream down his cheeks. He stretches out his arm in a feeble attempt to push me away when I fall on my knees next to him. I'm stronger, and I grab his shoulders. Maybe I shake him slightly.
"What the hell is going on?" I try not to shout.
"Fuck you," is the only answer I get.
Something's very wrong here.
"I beg your pardon?" I can't believe my eyes, my ears, anything. "Why?"
He looks at me, those droplets hanging from his eyelashes tearing at my heart.
"Are you not the perv who has abused my body every night since I was brought here?"
What the hell…
"Who told you that?"
I think I know. It's the snake who's married to the man who strangles kittens. She must be really mad at me for not giving in to her charms a few months ago, when she pressed her indecent cleavage into my arm and asked if she could check my blood pressure. I told her back then I had no blood pressure and pushed her aside. Now she hates me, obviously.
"Doesn't matter who told me what, I remember your creepy face from two days ago."
Sort of disappointing, huh? This is not the conversation I've been hoping for.
"Wait, Jasper, erm, I mean, Mr. Hale. I am your doctor. I've done nothing wrong. Someone has misinformed you."
How I manage to keep my voice low is beyond me. He hugs his torso, suppressing his pain, and snorts.
"But look at you! You do look like a lunatic, dripping water all over the place, pale as a dead man, and it feels like these eyes of yours are drilling a hole in my forehead. Go away. Please. Maybe you're not a monster, but still… I don't trust you."
And maybe I am a monster.
I stand up and outstretch my arm. His pajama clad figure curls into himself more.
"At least I can help you get back to bed." I use my calmest voice.
He seems to consider my offer and loosens the grip around his chest. Taking a few deep breaths, he tilts his head and looks me straight in the eye.
"I can sense a positive vibe coming from you. You mean no harm."
"No, I mean no harm. I even think I'm in love with you, but that's another question."
His eyes grow unbelievably wide. Without speaking another word, he takes my hand and makes an effort to stand up. The pain must be excruciating, and he gives up with a grumble. I bend, grabbing him under his arms and supporting his torso, and lift as quickly as possible, taking all his weight on me. The outcome of my abrupt action is we're standing upright, and I'm embracing and pressing him to my chest. My nose is buried in his hair, and his nose is buried in the curve of my neck. Which is absolutely perfect, until he roars into my ear. Oh shit, he's in pain. Or irritated. Or both.
A minute later, while I straighten the sheets along his legs, he speaks again.
"What did you mean by that last thing you said? Which is… erm… another question?"
Okay, here we go.
"Okay, here we go," I repeat out loud. "I need to look at you for a couple of minutes. Lay still and don't speak, please. Is this okay?"
He nods.
I look. I see the same things I've always seen.
The angelic features. The toned body. The silk of his hair. All perfect. But there's more to it, something invisible. It's like he's wrapped in a layer of magic, vibrating at a frequency above human hearing and almost palpable. It's like his personality radiates electricity, creating a magnetic field which draws me in. I can feel it even stronger now that he is awake.
"That's it, I'm ready. Now, I'm sure."
"And...?" His eyes are that wide again, unbelievably.
"And, yes. I do love you."
He stops looking at me, finds a spot on the ceiling to stare at, and moves his lips in an inaudible phrase.
"Who are you talking to?" I ask, smirking. No way, he's communicating with his Fate, most probably cursing at her.
"Doesn't matter. Look, I don't even know your name."
"Right! I didn't get the chance to introduce myself this morning. I'm Edward Cullen."
"And you know my name already. Well, Edward Cullen, get the fuck out of my room, immediately, or I'll scream."
A/N: And here I'm asking for your reviews.