Post by Nessa Wall on Oct 6, 2018 23:45:32 GMT -6
September 23, 2018 || NYC (OFF CAMERA)
There was a pulsing, pounding sound that was driving her crazy so when she mumbled, "tell the neighbors to turn down the music," it made perfect sense. They partied at odd hours, after all. Granted, she wasn't in her childhood home in Scarborough or even the small apartment she'd rented in Chicago, for that matter.
The throbbing was in her head, growing more intense as she tried to roll over, thinking she was in her own bed only to find the pain intensified, bringing wakefulness right along with it. The room was mostly dark. The pillow smelled vaguely of bleach and she knew it wasn't her own even before she registered the stiff sheets beneath her body - certainly not 500-thread count or above. A mouse-like squeak passed her lips as another attempt to move made that pain radiate across the back of her head and down her neck. That moment of blind panic faded away slowly, leaving her shaken and her heart still racing as Nessa looked around as best she could without moving her head, trying to figure out just where she was.
"I'll get right on that."
Chuck's voice came from a quiet corner of the room. His tone wasn't mocking, but in her state, he wasn't about to correct her. He sat in a small plastic chair, leaning forward on his hands. His skin was pink, the result of a long hour of nervous wringing as he'd watched the nurses shuffle around the room earlier. When Nessa seemed stable, they'd left, and for the last half hour, it had just been the two of them: Chuck sitting anxiously in the corner, observing, waiting for any signs of life.
At at the sound of his voice, Nessa's eyes widened although she couldn't really see him from her current vantage point. "Chuck..." she whispered his name but the rest of the inevitable question caught in her throat. From the corner, she could hear the sound of a chair being dragged across the floor.
Chuck hovered over her, looking down with a small smile. There was something there... was it relief? "Hey, you... how are you feeling?"
A thousand questions were on the tip of her tongue but they all disappeared at the sight of that curve of his lips. "I'm..." her voice dropped lower, almost sheepish as she looked away, the honest words spilling out regardless of how much she wanted to hold them back. "I'm okay. You're here... wherever 'here' is." Before he could answer, she managed a quick smirk, "hospital, I assume. Has that smell."
He chuckled. "They all do smell the same, don't they?" Chuck looked around the room, his smile disappearing. The equipment around the room, the tools on the counter behind him, and the distinctive smell, all seemed to stir something in his head, and he looked suddenly uncomfortable. His eyes returned to hers, and his face relaxed. "You had us worried for a moment." He paused for a moment. "Well... me, anyway." He looked a bit embarrassed to admit it, but didn't avert his gaze.
A blush crept over her cheeks as she lifted her hand as if she intended to touch his face, stopping for a moment when she caught sight of the hospital bracelet around her wrist. She frowned slightly, trying to remember what had happened. Why would he have been worried? "My head hurts." She finally said, biting her lip as her eyes searched his expression for some clue. "And I really can't remember... did I land funny during my match?"
There was that look of concern again. He rested his hand gently on hers, looking down at the bracelet around her wrist. "The match didn't happen. You weren't in any shape to compete." He took a deep breath. "We got you here as quick as we could... I'm having Ms. Cross work with security and let me know the second they find anything." He was silent for a moment, and he stared at the bracelet, as though reading the small lettering on it. "I'm sorry."
The information sank in as she watched him, feeling the warmth of his hand against hers. The more she tried to process it, the more her head throbbed, that dull ache radiating up her neck and around to her temples. The way he apologized and the way he looked at her were more disconcerting than the fact that she remembered nothing of the last few hours. "D'Lo was salty, I'm sure. Probably had all sorts of nasty things to say, no doubt." She tried to smile but it was pained at best and it did nothing to fix the tension she could see in him. "I'm okay, Chuck. I... think. At least I hope so."
"If he hasn't yet, I'm sure it's coming." He shook his head with a smirk. "The match is the match...the important thing is that you're alright." Chuck focused on her, his ever-watchful eyes scanning her face. "You'll bounce back. You're a tough girl." He gave her hand a soft squeeze.
She squeezed back. "Such flattery..." she couldn't help the little laugh that escaped even though her snarkiness was a little too strong thanks to her headache and the rotten mood that was starting to settle in. "Careful, Mr. Matthews... a girl might start to think you've grown quite fond of her..." she blushed a little as she said it, trying to play it off, "or something."
Chuck laughed, the first genuine laugh he'd had since arriving at the hospital. "All the time I spend in your company? I'm surprised that rumor hasn't started yet." He fell silent for a moment, appreciating the tiny details of her face. His eyes darted away for just a moment, and his voice got quiet. "....I do care a lot about you though." He looked away, sheepishly. "If you didn't know, or... something." He cleared his throat.
"You're here," Nessa's voice was soft, holding a hint of amusement, "and your suit's gotten all wrinkled from sitting in that awful chair. If that doesn't scream affection from the rooftops, I don't know what does." Her fingers were cool, both hands clutching his as she grew more serious. "Thank you. For..." her voice broke slightly but she pressed on. "For being here. For making sure I was okay."
"You know I've dropped everything for less." He smiled, half-joking. Chuck glanced down, for the first time realizing his appearance; his tie had been loosened, his shirt was wrinkled, and his jacket lay on the floor in the corner. It must have fallen off the back of the chair when he moved it. He hadn't bothered to pick it up. "You know I'm always here if you need me."
"I know." Nessa smiled up at him and maybe it was just the head injury that had stolen away the last of her inhibitions but she couldn't keep the feelings to herself any longer. She said the worst and most horribly clichéd thing in the whole universe, "and I love you."
Chuck opened his mouth for a moment, and closed it immediately, letting her words sink in. His eyes looked her over, as if studying her. "Nessa, I.... ah..." He struggled with his words. Again, he found himself looking away, searching for assistance that didn't come. His hand squeezed hers, until finally he found it in him to look back to her. "...feel the same."
"Good." She nodded and then instantly regretted the action, letting out a hiss between clenched teeth as she winced. "Can... you find someone and get me something for my head? Or maybe find out if we can..." she paused, correcting herself even as a plaintive note colored her words, "I just want to go home."
He nodded, glancing over his shoulder. "I'm sure they'll want to run other tests... but let me see if I can find someone." He slipped through the door, leaving Nessa alone in the room. As soon as the door closed, he leaned heavily against the wall, taking a deep breath. He closed his eyes. His mind raced, playing her words through his head. Chuck tried to shake the thought from his mind.
'She couldn't remember the attack. She couldn't remember that she hadn't competed tonight... She's delirious.'
The thought pierced the deepest part of Chuck's mind. He took another shuddering breath, taking a moment to compose himself before setting off to find a nurse.
She waited for the door to close before letting out a shaky breath she'd been holding, blinking away the tears that filled her eyes. "Stupid, stupid, stupid," she muttered, wishing for the moment that it had been her throat and vocal cords injured instead of her head. She certainly didn't feel very smart. Bringing her hands up, she pressed her palms against her aching eyes before the tears could fall. Weakness was the last thing she wanted him to see right now. She had to be strong. She had to be perfect.
