𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

                                    

                                          
·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩𝚂𝙴𝚅𝙴𝙽 𝚈𝙴𝙰𝚁𝚂 𝙰𝙶𝙾✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙
Ⓘ spotted Atts entering the room designated as the children's ward at The Silver Hospital, causing me to set aside my UNO cards and offer a smile. However, my joy faded when I realized it wasn't Atticus, but Atts, as he had explained earlier in the week. Like me, he sported a hoodie over his hospital gown, accompanied by those socks with animal paw-shaped rubber grippers to prevent slipping on the cold marble floor—a standard ensemble for all patients. My initial self-consciousness about attire had waned, driven by both the norm and my own indifference due to illness.
Approaching me, Atts shared news with a mix of seriousness and happiness. 
"Guess what?" he exclaimed. I playfully responded, 
"Chicken butt?" but my smile faltered as he revealed, 
"I'm getting discharged tomorrow." Thoughts raced through my mind—was this the end? Would I never see him again? Despite my choked response, I hid my emotions behind a feigned cough. Atticus had undergone a successful bone-marrow transplant for leukemia, bringing relief, but I wished for more time with him, a lifeline of sorts.
Seated on the black chairs near my bed, Atts encouraged me to undergo a similar procedure for a quicker return home. I explained our financial constraints, noting that individuals like Atticus took priority due to their wealth. However, Atticus had proven himself not to be a spoiled brat, earning my admiration.
Our shared struggle against cancer in the lungs—my Hodgkin lymphoma, often confused with leukemia—had kept us confined to the hospital for eight weeks, battling for our lives. The hospital staff attempted to maintain a sense of normalcy, organizing activities for us as long as we adhered to safety measures.
Despite our surface differences, he and I grew close, perhaps due to our similar ages. While he embraced sports, I aspired to dance on Broadway. Our potential friendship faced logistical challenges as exchanging numbers seemed improbable, given our parents' limited interaction. As our time in the hospital stretched on, Atticus expressed a sentiment I found surprising: 
"I'm going to miss this place." 
Skeptical, I retorted, "You will not." 
His laughter resonated, and he confessed, "Maybe I'll just miss you." Our eyes met, and a shared understanding lingered, recalling the night I had comforted him after a challenging chemotherapy session. I had taken a damp cloth from the basin and gently wiped his forehead. Then, I nestled beside him in bed, providing warmth because he was shivering intensely.
When he finally drifted into sleep with his head resting against my shoulder, I let out a sigh of relief. Despite our limited shared interests, our bond deepened through the unique experiences we faced—IVs, bags of fluids, constant presence of medical staff, and the somber expressions of our visitors. These shared challenges strengthened our connection.
Eventually, I succumbed to sleep beside him. The night-shift nurse discovered us and ushered me back to my own bed. However, her wink as she assisted me in settling into my room suggested I wasn't in serious trouble.
✧ ༺♥༻∞
Atticus came into the room, panting slightly as if he'd been jogging. My face lit up, maybe he could play one last puzzle game with me? It was my favourites, a one after you had finished represented a image of a ballerina in the snow. 
After watching him for a beat more, admiring his dark hair he said "I came to say goodbye."
Oh. My heart sank. "They're letting you leave early." It was more a statement, I tried to make my face positive but I knew my face looked sad. I stepped out of my bed. 
He nodded, and he blurted, "I hope you make it." 
"Thanks, well bye." I said, and he lurched forward to draw me into a loose hug. He gripped my waist tightly, making my skin tingle. His scent was a mix of shampoo and hospital antiseptic, but I didn't hold it against him. I probably smelled the same, but it would always remind me of him.
"I'll miss you," he said as he drew back. "Wish we lived closer."
But we were on opposite sides of town.
"I won't forget you. How could I with a crazy name like Zarela Laurier?"
"You neither, Atticus Scott Hefner. The third."
He rolled his eyes. "Atts, remember?" It's my nickname at school.
I smiled. "I remember."
"Okay, well..." he awkwardly inched toward the door.
"Oh, one more thing." I strode to the drawer, opened one of my notebooks, and retrieved an envelope. "You can read it later."
I passed it to him, and as I looked up my lips accidently touched his cheek. It felt electric. He gasped like he'd been shocked, stepping back but he leaned forward again and kissed my quickly on what was supposed to be my cheek, but I was turning my head so he kissed to corner of my mouth. 
"So-sorry about that" he had said, stuttering. 
"It's okay I didn't mind it" I admitted. I don't know what had gotten to me back then, but I really did enjoy it. Atticus was more handsome than anyone at school, so... I was looking at the positives. 
He then left the room, and I sat back down on my bed. How was it going to be without him here? I fought back tears that threatened to spill. 
✧༺♥༻∞
𝒟ℯ𝒶𝓇 𝒜𝓉𝓉𝓈,
𝐼 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃𝓀 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝒷𝑒𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓂𝓎 𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹. 𝐼'𝓁𝓁 𝓃𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊, 𝒶𝓈 𝒾𝓉'𝓈 𝒷𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓂𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒷𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇.
𝒴𝑜𝓊'𝓇𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝓈𝓅𝑒𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓁 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝑒.
𝒵𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓁𝒶 ㋡