I'm Yours

Felix arrives at the hospital that night, plagued by a war in his head.  He knows he should let go, but how can He?  

He sits next to his mother's bed, she still isn't awake. Would she be here for years?He doesn't know. But if there's one thing he is sure of, it's the fact that he must look pitiful right now. If the doctors and nurses staring at him are any indication. One of them approaches him, gently as if he's a child. 

"Her vitals are stable, we could give you time alone with her for a bit."

"No, it's alright. I don't need it-" He looks down, something out of character for him. It's not that he didn't want to be alone with her, but he couldn't be alone with his thoughts. Not with the thoughts that would remind him of this crushing reality, so many things we're happening at once. Felix tried for a smile, but only ended up letting out a sigh.

"Mr. Graham De Vanily, you may not need it however it is proven to be beneficial for the patient when loved ones are with them. Especially, when you talk to them. If you won't do it for yourself, at least do for her. Tell her how you feel right now, please. Tell her how much you need her." He says, then turns around not giving him any time to protest.

He sighs as he sits down again, it feels hard to breath. It feels like the world is crashing down on him right now, and he's the only one who can keep it from falling. He closes his eyes, allowing himself to drown in the familiar feeling. Somehow, it's comforting. At least something is consistent with him, this suffocating feeling will never leave him. He puts his satchel down next to his seat, the sound ringing through to room since there's nothing else to fill the silence. 

"Mother." Is all he can manage to say. This is unacceptable. She is in a coma, but all he can say to comfort her is mother. He forces himself to speak again, the words coming out just a whisper, if you didn't try you would never hear it and perhaps that's why he can only find the strength to let the words leave his mouth. "I'm sorry."

The words break him, he didn't know wether it was guilt, fear, or anger but they broke him. He can't hold it in anymore, he wasn't strong. He wasn't prepared for this, he wasn't ready to let go of her. He wasn't ready to let go of his father, but he had to. And his biggest regret was that he was not the son that his father wanted. He was a failure. Weak, and useless.

When he said he didn't care what people said about him, or how he was always alone the silence his only comfort, that was a lie. He wanted to be held tightly too, he wanted someone to tell him it was gonna be okay. He wanted someone to tell him that his father loved him for who he was, even if it was a lie.

He wanted someone to look at him straight in the eyes, and tell him they loved him, that no matter how many times he messed up they would still be there with open arms. He also wanted to learn catch from his father, to be tucked in by his mother as she read him a bedtime story and he drifted off to sleep. He wanted to go to school and reunite with his friend after every break, to have inside jokes that no one else could understand. But he didn't have any of that. He didn't have someone who held him tightly, someone who loved unconditionally. He knew that was too much to ask for, especially for someone like him. 

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't who you and father wanted me to be, that I caused his death.. and you to be like this. If I was competent then..." he pauses, taking a breath. Tears start to cloud his vision. "then would he have loved me? Would someone hold me when I was crying?  Would they dry my tears just as I had longed for for so long? However.. no matter how I try to understand it, why? Why was it always my fault if something happened? Why couldn't you guys just love me.. for ... me?"

At the doorway, just outside the room a bag dropped softly, Marinette slowly letting go of it. Her lips parted slightly as she let out a huff of air, in shock and in empathy.

"The doctor said to tell you how much I need you, right now." He grabs her hand, wanting to feel even a little bit of warmth. His head turns down, his hair covering his teary face. 

"I need you. Not just right now. I've always needed you, mother, I've just never said anything so... you were never there," He catches his breath. "So please, wake up. Give me a chance to say I need you."

 He didn't what to do now, he didn't feel like going home or staying here. But he had no where else to go, and visiting hours were going to be over soon. With his head held low, he picks up his bag from the floor next to him and starts for the door. Upon opening it though, he is met by shock when someone envelopes him in a hug. It's so.. so strangely warm, so tight. Would someone hold me when I was crying?  His words from earlier echo in his head.

He gulps as he looks down at her, he quickly recognizes her blue hair, and the soft gaze she gives as she looks up to him. 

She dries his tears with her thumb, reaching up just to do it.

Would they dry my tears just as I had longed for for so long?

"It's not your fault." She says softly, no louder than how he had whispered earlier. The look on his face is pure shock, his lips parted, his eyes big. Then somehow, it completely changes. It's vulnerable, and scared, he can no longer put on a face. He drops his bag, and lays his head on hers, tears wetting her hair. He allows himself to cry in front of her, for whatever reason.

There, in the hallway of a hospital, machines beeping, lights dim, something miraculous happened. One of their hearts started beating fast, their breath short and embrace tight. From that day forward one of them couldn't get the other out of their head. The other's favorite food, favorite color, the hairstyle they look best in, that person's little habits, everything about them, would simply never leave their head.

But who? I guess we'll find out.