35. The Semi-Private Room #2
She holds up one hand, expression utterly unimpressed. "If I have to hear 'it's a shame to waste this semi-private room' as an excuse one more time, I will scream. No hanky panky in the hospital bed. You hear me?"
"Yes, ma'am," Max squeaks. He's turned completely scarlet, his face flaming red all the way from his hairline to his ears to his collarbones.
The nurse looks at me. At the monitors, and Max, still perched on my lap like he's forgotten how to move.
Back at me. "Well," she says flatly. "You're clearly feeling better.
Let me get the doctor to sign off on your discharge so you can take this—" she gestures at what Max and I were obviously doing, "—somewhere more appropriate. "
Max makes a sound like a deflating balloon and buries his face in my shoulder. I can feel the heat of his blush through the hospital gown.
"Thank you," I say, because someone should probably say something. The nurse shakes her head and disappears through the curtain.
"Oh my goodness," Max whispers into my collarbone. "Oh my goodness, Leo."
"That was—"
"Mortifying. That was mortifying." Max lifts his head, face still red, and glares at me. "Why are you smiling?"
"Because you love me."
His glare softens. "I do. But I obviously have terrible taste in men."
"The worst."
"The absolute worst." He kisses me again, gently this time, and I'm still smiling against his lips when the curtain rattles again. Dr. K appears right as Max is attempting to climb off the gurney with some dignity. Based on the way he nearly falls off the side, he fails.
"Sylvia," Dr. K calls over his shoulder.
"Dr. K," comes the dry response from somewhere beyond the curtain.
"Our patient is ready for discharge. Assuming he can keep his hands to himself long enough to sign the paperwork."
"I'm sure he'll manage."
"Mm-hmm."
Dr. K turns to us, mismatched eyes flicking between us, and the corner of his grin softens, just slightly.
He's clocked exactly what he walked in on and has filed it away neatly.
Max looks like he wants the floor to swallow him whole.
I'm probably tired and swollen and ridiculously happy and doing nothing to hide it.
"Don't mind Sylvia," Dr. K says, stepping closer to check my vitals one last time. "She always speaks her mind." He mock-shudders.
"We noticed," Max manages weakly, and Dr. K laughs. The grey-haired nurse pokes her head in, hands me a clipboard with discharge papers, and disappears just as quickly.
"I was coming to let you know you could go home. Sign here, here, and initial here. Take it easy for the next twenty-four hours, stay hydrated, no strenuous activity." He pauses, glances at Max, and his grin widens. "And I mean no strenuous activity."
"Got it," I say quickly, before Max can die of embarrassment on the spot. Dr. K meets my eyes and gives me a small nod. Just a nod, nothing more, but it feels like approval. Like, good for you. I nod back.
"Alright." Dr. K takes the signed forms and tucks them under his arm. "You're free to go. Try not to eat anything you're allergic to on the way out."
"I'll do my best." It’s said to his back as he disappears through the curtain, and Max immediately turns to me.
"I cannot believe—"
"Help me get dressed?"
His mouth snaps shut. "What?"
"My clothes. The costume." I gesture vaguely at the chair where my suit and crushed ears are piled. "I can't walk out of here in a hospital gown."
Max's expression shifts from mortified to a soft smile. "Right. Yeah. Of course."
Getting back into the suit is an ordeal. My hands are still a little shaky, and my coordination is questionable at best, but Max helps me with the buttons, straightens the lapels, and fusses over the crushed bunny ears until they look almost presentable.
"There," he says, stepping back to survey his work. "Very sexy."
"I look like I got hit by a truck."
"A sexy truck."
I snort. "That doesn't even make sense."
"Nothing makes sense right now." Max grabs my hand, threading our fingers together. "I almost lost you, and now you love me, and a nurse almost yelled at us for making out on a gurney, and I'm still wearing a magical girl costume in a hospital."
"When you put it that way…"
He grins up at me. "Best day ever?"
"Worst day ever that turned into the best day ever."
"I'll take it." We're standing there, smiling at each other like idiots, holding hands in the middle of a hospital curtain area, when a commotion erupts somewhere nearby.
Raised voices. Footsteps. Someone says, "Sir, you can't go back there—" And the curtain is ripped open.
JP stands there, eyes wild, face pale, looking like he ran all the way here from the campus. He's breathing hard, hands braced on either side of the curtain like he's holding himself upright.
"Leo," he gasps. "I got a call… The hospital called me… they said you were in the ER and I—"
Right. JP. I forgot, JP is everyone's actual emergency contact. When we moved into the house, JP sat us down, and we all decided that a single point of contact was more efficient in a crisis. Of course, none of us argued, and of course, it’s paying off right now in a curtained-off hospital room with a panicking roommate.
He stops. Blinks and takes in the scene: me in my suit, Max in his Sayaka cosplay, our hands intertwined, both of us clearly alive and standing.
The panic on his face drains away second by second, shoulders dropping, breathing slowing, white-knuckled grip on the curtain relaxing. And then his eyes narrow, his jaw sets.
I'm about to get yelled at. "You're fine," he says flatly.
"I'm fine," I confirm.
"You're more than fine." His eyes drop to our joined hands. His eyebrows climb toward his hairline. "You're fine, fine." Max makes a strangled noise.