Welcome the The Inpatient Society. Set in Crystal Bay, Florida, we are a site that centers around a children's hospital. Whether you're a patient, a doctor, a friend, or just a random passerby, everyone is welcome here!
Post by Bailey Henneth on Jun 20, 2016 0:50:58 GMT -5
Months had passed. Bailey couldn't quite remember how many, but enough for the numbers to blur together. She had become a "productive citizen" and was seen as a definite "success story." Whoever decided to slap that label upon her had spoken far too soon.
In her own defense, she had not engaged in any self-sabotage or ended up hooked on anything or anybody that would ruin her. It was the system that had failed her, ironically. In the midst of working two jobs, the companies suffered a blow when their partner insurance companies began to raise the cost of certain commodities. Millions lost their lifeline. Diabetics were reusing insulin needles to penny-pinch, cancer patients cut back on treatment options, and the mentally ill were hoarding medication.
Bailey knew to expect overcrowding in the hospital; she had explicitly been told over the phone by her old doctor who had spoken with a great deal of sadness upon hearing that she was not one of the lucky ones.
Now that she stood in the hospital lobby, her body tense and rainstorm blue eyes frosting over the packed chairs of people checking in and their anxious loved ones; she was feeling a little bitter that her doctor had dumbed the issue down to "slight overcrowding."
She huffed under her breath and lifted her rolling luggage bag upright, leaning to catch a pink-in-the-face nurse by the arm gently. " 'scuse me, ma'am, but I'm waiting on someone to escort me to the psychiatric wing..." Her tone was leading and her face bright and hopeful, silently pleading with the nurse practitioner to take pity on her and lead her to the ward.
"You all checked in?" The woman sighed and pressed her pale fingertips to her reading glasses, scanning a clipboard she had cradled against her bosom. "Oh, I see-- Henneth, Bailey." She didn't leave any viable room for Bailey to answer.
"Yeah," She resisted rolling her eyes just to be a pain in the ass. She wasn't offering much indication as to why someone as soft-spoken and grounded as she would be given a room in the psychiatric unit.
"I see. You've been working in Maryland as a librarian? How lovely! How do you like it?" She started, eyes still shamelessly wandering down Bailey's updated patient chart as they paraded through the hallways.
"Oh -- part-time. I like it better than my other...y'know," Bailey smiled a tiny smile, not bothering to elaborate further on her night job, as the nurse had already clearly shown her interest in learning all about Bailey.
"Yes, yes... a pub. How modern," The nurse smiled a 'poor you' sort of disgusted smile at Bailey's choice of a night job. They continued their mostly one-sided conversation until Bailey arrived in her wing. Their average-sized rooms were halved by a large medical curtain.
"Fff- fuck, they weren't lying when they said they were overcrowded, were they?" Bailey whispered as she took in the cabin-sized living spaces, where two beds peeked out from each side of the curtain. Instead of two beds per room, there were four. And by the looks of the sparse personal items peeking from under beds and taped onto the wall, they were co-ed.
"Sorry, hon," the nurse apologized, giving Bailey's arm a brief squeeze. "Aye, everybody, this is Miss Henneth -- your new roommate!" She introduced.
Last Edit: Jun 20, 2016 11:40:54 GMT -5 by Bailey Henneth
Aug 27, 2016 18:09:55 GMT -5
Group
Posts
Mental Illness Ward
90
My heart may be missing, but my hands will make up for it.
Post by Aiden Stark on Jun 20, 2016 11:27:54 GMT -5
Aiden hadn't been out for very long. It took the doctors much longer than he would have liked for them to finally give up and call him "cured". But there was no cure for Aiden. Not really. They could shove as many pills down his throat as they wanted to, he would still be Aiden. The boy would couldn't be tamed. The one who would lie to get whatever he wanted. The one who had no idea who he was, so he just became someone new every day. That was who he was and who he always would be.
But then the meds started to change things. He wasn't getting better, per say, just a lot quieter. He became a living robot, just like they had always wanted him to. But he hadn't stopped thinking the way that he always had. The only difference between when he was taking the meds and when he wasn't was that he could barely drag himself out of bed every day when he was on them. So he stopped. He would pretend to take them to make his mother and father happy, but he'd spit them out as soon as he could afterwords. It took a while, but he started to feel like himself again. Whoever that was.
The change, however, didn't go unnoticed. His parents started noticing that his behavior was reverting back to his old patterns. He was lying again, though he wasn't sure if he had ever stopped that part, and his parents never would have caught him in his lies anyhow. He was too smooth for that. Frankly, his parents wouldn't have caught him at all if he had known that they had installed a dozen new security cameras and alarms all over the house while he had been away. It wasn't until he had tried to sneak a girl into his bedroom that his parents realized that he was bad again. And they didn't wait more than forty-eight ours to throw him back into the prison that they called a hospital. Prison might have actually been better.
It took them for. ev. er. to check him into the place, so long that Aiden actually tried to persuade his parents into coming back at a later date. Maybe he could convince them that he was doing better if he had more time. He had no such luck. Finally a nurse emerged from behind the ominous grey double doors and called out rather sadly, "Stark, Aiden." Aiden didn't remember this particular nurse, but she clearly remembered him. Then again, how could she not? He was unforgettable.
"That's me, Blondie," he announced as he rose from the immensely uncomfortable chair that he had been sitting in. He didn't bother to turn back or say goodbye to either of his parents, though he could hear his mother sniffling as he walked away which prompted him to turn back for just a moment. "Oh stop your blubbering. You're just as bad as I am," he spat at his mother. Everyone else in the room went silent, a sentiment that Aiden was used to by now. He turned on his heels, and he was gone.
Aiden followed behind the hot nurse's shoulder, glancing over her clipboard to see a picture of him with a bunch of tiny letters written next to it. The only thing that he could make out was his name. "So, you come here often?" Aiden said mockingly, his lips placed unusually close to her ear.
"Don't try it, hot stuff. I'm smarter than you are," she said, not bothering to turn back to look at him. Aiden had to hold back his laughter. Who did she think she was? She became significantly less attractive to him with just that statement, but now he was intrigued. Aiden didn't like anyone thinking that they could outsmart him.
Smirking, he responded. "Is that so? Do you think that just because you went to some fancy-shmancy school and got some pointless degree that that somehow makes you more intelligent than me? You're delusional." She stayed quiet as they kept walking, but Aiden wasn't done with her yet. He placed a hand on her shoulder and another on the small of her back, and spoke softly in her ear, "I bet you've never been with anyone that could outsmart you, love." In that moment, he knew he had her. The slight catching of her breath, the pulsing of her heart that was present all throughout her body, the turning of her head to finally look into his deep blue eyes, and the look in her eyes that was both terrified and intrigued. All these notions told Aiden that he had this girl in the palm of his hand. And he would have taken her too, but then she showed up.
"Mr. Stark," her voice pierce through the heated moment that had been occurring between the two young people. Sierra stood at the end of the hallway with her arms crossed and her toe tapping. She was the only person that Aiden had encountered in the entire hospital that had no tolerance for his charm. He had decided that she must be a sociopath herself because that was the only possible explanation for why she acted how she did around him. "Hannah, I'll take this from here."
Play time was over. The blonde nurse, Hannah apparently, blushed a bright shade of red and scurried away, clearly just as terrified of Sierra as she wanted her to be. "Sierra, babygirl. Long time no see," Aiden said, refusing to take another step towards her. If she wanted him, she'd have to ask.
"I'm not your babygirl, Stark. Follow me. I think you'll rather like your new room." She said before turning to walk and assuming he'd follow her.
"Oh goodie," he muttered under his breath, but he followed her anyway. No reason not to now that his toy had left him. He and Sierra didn't bother with small talk as she led him to his room. The place was packed tighter than it had been before he left, and Aiden wasn't sure what he could expect to be waiting for him in his room.
When he arrived, the whole room was empty. "Ahh so I get a room to myself now?" he asked, rather disappointed that he wouldn't have any roommates to mess around with.
"No, you'll have roommates. Just you wait," she replied. She hung up his file in the door. "Stay here until someone comes to get you. You'll be seeing the doctor this afternoon at five." Aiden glanced at the clock. It was 2:15 now, so he had nearly three hours to sit there and stare at the walls. Maybe one of his roommates would show up by then. Once Sierra left, Aiden picked a bed and began to unpack his things. He assumed that he would be in there for a while, but he began to try to think of a plan to convince the doctors that he was okay. After all, he was a very good liar.
One thing led to another, and Aiden soon found himself taking a nice snooze. That was, until a nurse entered his room and disturbed his peaceful slumber. "Miss Henneth." He heard the name faintly as he woke up. Why did he know that name? Henneth...Henneth...
And then he saw her. Bailey. The girl that he'd convinced himself that he might have been in love with but then she left and he had tried so hard to forget about her. She was the one anomaly. No other girl had made him feel the way that he felt when he looked at her, and he hated it. He didn't want to feel those things. But he couldn't help it with her.
He realized that he had been staring at her for a few moments now, completely in shock, and he took a moment to compose himself. She didn't need to know what she could do to him. "Well hello there sweetheart," he said with his normal casual swagger. "Didn't think I'd ever see you again." And I hoped that I wouldn't.
Post by Bailey Henneth on Jun 20, 2016 12:19:34 GMT -5
"You two have already been acquainted?" The nurse whose ID tag Bailey had never cared to read spoke with unabashed surprise. She bounced her fingers across the metal of her clipboard, looking uncomfortable with this information.
Bailey didn't like that. The judgement was creeping in. Though her chart that held all of her supposed 'dirty little secrets' that she had never attempted to hide, she was reformed. She had not returned for her promiscuity, or a relapse -- it was much simpler than that. She'd single-handedly started a bar fight...at her own workplace.
Her at-the-time friend who worked as a trainee fireman down the street had been a frequent visitor of her little bar, and he often brought along friends. They were as polite as a group of rowdy, younger gentleman could be. However, he'd made a few friends that were self-proclaimed "firefighting machines," or that's what they called themselves after a few beers.
It didn't take long for someone to approach her while headed to the bathroom, her coworker holding down the fort while she washed off the stain of "accidentally" spilled beer from a guy who didn't understand personal space. On her way there, she was stopped by one of the older firemen, who was swaying with a drunken swagger. He immediately backed her into a wall, thinking the action was harmless, but it seemed like more than playful to Bailey. That was almost immediately confirmed when a rough hand had grabbed at her butt.
And then she made a move that reminded her how dangerous being unmedicated was. She reached over and grabbed a forgotten bottle from the edge of the bar, and slammed it into his head. And then all Hell broke loose. The night ended with her soaked in watery craft beer, in the back of a police car with two other males who had backed her up. Nobody left in an ambulance or body bag.
Naturally, Bailey called her therapist once in the precinct. He was quick to give her an ultimatum: go back to Crystal Bay, or I'll use legal force to make you.
...it wasn't much of a choice.
And now, here she was -- good 'ole Crystal Bay, standing across the room from a too familiar face, with his eyes peering at her like she was an alien.
"Fuck," She mumbled again, to which the nurse made a little noise of warning.
"You say that quite often for a librarian," The nurse mumbled back, winking to try and keep from coming across as another orderly with a stick up her bum. "Stark, please watch the nicknames." She added in a much more stern tone.
Bailey was taking over from there, she decided in her head, taking a slight step away from the nurse to prop her luggage against the wall. "That's all there is. I shouldn't be stayin' long," She informed the orderly, who was now scribbling something on her clipboard -- likely a note that Bailey was "making inflated assumptions about her health" or "being promiscuous -- she made eye contact with a male!"
She shrugged the thought off and sighed at Aiden. "The feeling's mutual." She ran her hand through her smoothed back blonde locks, which were longer than ever but lacking the complete wildness they used to have. She looked well. But tired, both a physical and mental tiredness apparent in her features, even though she'd tried to cover all of that up.
Now she had more important things to worry about. "Shit," She said, the surprise enough to pull a more tame swear from her.
Last Edit: Jun 20, 2016 12:26:45 GMT -5 by Bailey Henneth
Aug 27, 2016 18:09:55 GMT -5
Group
Posts
Mental Illness Ward
90
My heart may be missing, but my hands will make up for it.
Post by Aiden Stark on Jun 20, 2016 13:01:02 GMT -5
Sitting up in his bed, Aiden's mind was racing. What was he supposed to say to her? What did she think of seeing him? Did she miss him? This wasn't right. He could request a room change, but he didn't want her to think that he was running from her. That would make it seem like he had a problem with her. Playing it cool was his only option. He could do that, right?
"So, what'd you do to get sent back?" he asked, but then he second-guessed himself. Was that an insensitive question? No. It didn't matter. Aiden was always insensitive, and he had to remind himself that he couldn't start caring about what she thought of him. Maybe that was it. If he could pretend not to care about her, then she would forget that he ever cared about her in the first place. Then again, she never seemed to care how he treated her before. God, this was so confusing.
This girl was his kryptonite. She was the only person that Aiden had ever met in his life that could make him feel something, and he had spent many sleepless nights wondering what that meant. What was so special about her? He didn't know. She was just like any other girl to him at first, but then things started to change. He started to think about her when she wasn't there. Thoughts of her invaded his mind all the time, and he couldn't seem to make them go away. There was even a point when he thought that they could be together once they were both out of there. But she was released a month or so before him, and he had no way of getting in contact with her. By the time that he was released, he had decided that he wanted nothing to do with her anyway. Nothing good ever came from Aiden being in a relationship. He would just end up hurting her, and for some inexplicable reason, he didn't want to do that.
So he erased her from his memory. All she amounted to in his head was just another chick that he wanted to screw. But now that she was here, right in front of him, he wanted so much more than that. He was almost concerned for her. How could she end up back here? She was doing so well. Then again, so was he according to the doctors. Maybe she had made the same decision that he had. The decision to become herself again.
Aiden didn't trust the meds. All they did was sedate him, and he was sure that they were doing the same thing to Bailey. Even when she had left, he hoped that she would learn to live without them. He liked her better when she was crazy. The spontaneity and unpredictability of this girl was part of what made her so irresistible to him. When she was unmediated, he didn't feel like he had to be any different than how he always was. It felt safer even though they were both a danger to everyone around them.
But now he had to push all of those thoughts out of his head. She was bad for him. Or maybe it was the other way around. Regardless, he sat there anxiously awaiting her answer and desperately trying not to melt right into her hands like he had before she left.
Post by Bailey Henneth on Jun 20, 2016 16:51:42 GMT -5
Bailey pressed her lips together upon his question, but they turned into a thin smile. He was still himself. That was something, right?
His presence lit her up with twenty kinds of emotion -- and while that wasn't such a harrowing task because she wasn't medicated, she knew that he was perfectly capable of dragging a thousand emotions out of her no matter what was in her system. She'd been pulled out of a good handful of dreams in a panic, with his face staining the back of her eyelids and staying there all day.
She'd missed him. She had missed him too much, but now that she didn't have her two jobs, roommate, and furry little cat to occupy her, she was swarmed with reminders of her time here.
"Bar fight," She said in a quiet voice, not quite regretfully. "The bar I work at. Made front page of the paper," and that was exactly why Bailey didn't lose her job. The bar received praise for the reason behind the brawl, and it was receiving attention from all parts of Maryland. "Sorry it ain't more exciting." She was fishing through her pockets to hand over any last-minute contraband to the orderly, including a set of jangly keys on a dusty lavender lanyard, a few key chains dangling from it, most prominently a metal-lined chip reading "ONE YEAR." It was an AA chip, undoubtedly. One year sober.
"They searched me already. Just forgot 'bout my keys," Bailey handed over the keys to the nurse reluctantly. The nurse bobbed her head and turned on her heel, shoes squeaking as she left the room and bounded down the hallway to question someone else's life choices.
Bailey knew that she was put as Aiden's roommate for a reason, but by his slack-jawed sleepy look of surprise, he wasn't involved in the choosing. 'Why would he be? He doesn't care enough,' She thought, watching him for a long moment through her tired eyes.
Post by Aiden Stark on Jun 20, 2016 23:33:09 GMT -5
A bar fight? Really? Well, that wasn't very exciting. Aiden was more concerned with the fact that she mentioned working there. "You work in a bar?" he asked curiously. "Doing what, exactly?" He raised a suggestive eyebrow at her, assuming she would know what he was suggesting. Aiden didn't love the idea of Bailey being a stripper. That meant that other men would get to have what he wanted, and that was simply unacceptable to him. But on the other hand, if she was a stripper now, she would sure be great in bed. Not that Aiden thought she would ever sleep with him, but it was a nice little fantasy.
Aiden watched as she handed over her keys to the nurse that was still standing in the doorway. He wanted her to leave, but she seemed insistent on overseeing their interactions for the time being. Aiden wondered if there was a reason for it. Did they put them together on purpose? Surely not. They would have been smart enough not to put the two of them in a room together on purpose. Two crazed and hormonal youngsters that already have a past living in a room together is a recipe for disaster, especially with the type of person Aiden was. Surely they had to know that, right? Aiden decided that this was purely a coincidence.
Pulling himself away from that thought, Aiden noticed the AA chip that dangled from Bailey's keychain. "You're clean?" he asked sounding almost judgmental. Aiden was, in no way, shape, or form, clean, and he didn't plan on becoming so for a very long time, if ever. Of course, Aiden didn't consider himself an addict. He simply enjoyed living life to the fullest. When he wanted to stop, he would. But he never had reason to, so he never did.
But now Bailey was clean. Would she judge him? Sober people were always so judgmental to those who participated in drugs and alcohol, though Aiden could never quite figure out why. He also couldn't figure out why Bailey's opinion of him kept creeping into his thoughts. It didn't really matter, did it? If she likes him, great. If she doesn't like him anymore, then fuck her. Not literally, of course. That would be a bit counterproductive.
Post by Bailey Henneth on Jun 21, 2016 3:07:32 GMT -5
That pulled another flash of a smile out of her. She did a lot of smiling. She smiled so much at her two jobs that any real sign of a smile shocked her into an even bigger smile. It certainly didn't go over well when she was still stuck smiling when he followed up with a serious question -- was she clean? 'Why would I not be? Do I still look like I got dragged through Hell by my hair?' She wondered, smile fading abruptly. "Just a bartender...and yeah, sure. A little over a year. It fuckin' sucks," Bailey turned and raised an apologetic hand toward the nurse, who she was fully expecting to be blue in the face upon hearing such a thing.
"Sorry, I'll be more kid-friendly. Let me revert to my day job as a librarian." She couldn't help herself now. Bailey managed to avoid judgement on a daily basis by keeping her mouth shut about her past, but when such subjects came up in conversation, it left her with a bitter taste on her tongue that she couldn't stand.
"Bailey," the nurse said patiently, "...I'll see that your counselors are aware that you've arrived." She huffed and puffed and pinched her lips together in a very false smile before leaving the two alone, figuring that they knew the drill: doors open, lights on, arms length apart with your roommate at all times.
Bailey turned back to Aiden, folding her hands behind her back neatly, keeping them still to avoid looking nervous in front of him, or anyone that roomed with them. It wasn't that she was nervous, because she definitely was not. She'd worked in a bar for the past several months, so why would someone like Aiden make her nervous? She was playing a dangerous game, being around him while off her medication.
Aug 27, 2016 18:09:55 GMT -5
Group
Posts
Mental Illness Ward
90
My heart may be missing, but my hands will make up for it.
Post by Aiden Stark on Jun 21, 2016 13:55:20 GMT -5
Aiden couldn't help but chuckle slightly. "I'm sure it does," he said. A small smile crept onto his lips, but he quickly replaced it with a much more suitable smirk. Talking to her felt good. Too good. And while he didn't plan on letting that good feeling go to waste, he was going to make damn sure that she didn't know about it. What was up with this girl? She made him feel so out of control, so powerless. He could tell himself that he was going to push her away, but in the end that would only make him want her more. The best part was that she had no idea.
His chuckle nearly transformed into full-on laughter when she mentioned being a librarian. "A librarian, huh?" he said. "That's unexpected. Wait, are you practicing to be some sort of sexy librarian actress?" It was a joke that Aiden couldn't resist making, but honestly Aiden couldn't imagine Bailey stepping foot in a library, let alone working in one. Libraries were so quiet. They were calm and quaint and boring. The absolute antithesis to everything Aiden imagined when he thought of her. But if there was one thing that Aiden could say about the pretty blonde sitting adjacent to him, it was that she was unpredictable. Aiden was the sort of person that could tell how a situation would play out ten minutes before it actually happened, but not when Bailey was around. She was always surprising him.
"Good to see you're doing something for yourself though," he said honestly, though he tried to say it in a casual enough tone that it didn't seem too genuine. It was strange to think that Bailey had actually pulled herself together. All he had done in his time back in the free world was fall deeper into the hole that he had dug for himself. But Aiden had no capacity to see his own struggle. He felt happy as long as he was getting his way, and who he hurt along the way never mattered to him. It wasn't likely that would ever change, no matter how many doctors tried to reform him.
Post by Bailey Henneth on Jun 21, 2016 18:30:46 GMT -5
"I would'a taken either job. Whatever pays the bills," She joked back, running her hands idly down the front of her plain black leggings. "Yeah? Thank you." Bailey pushed the curtain that separated the twin set of beds aside, revealing the 'girl's side' of the room, where two identical bunks sat with the same amount of sparse decoration around them. She stared at her 'roommate's' bunk, which was delightfully boring, meaning that she would hopefully have a ghost for a roommate.
As she was unloading the few things in her possession (mostly an odd combination of clothes from either of her jobs that would either be too stuffy or too 'skimpy' for the hospital's standards), she tried to keep chipping away at the ice between them. "What've you been up to? You're looking great. Minus the bed head." She winked at him as she started pulling the zipper of her luggage bag closed, struggling to get it to latch shut.
Aug 27, 2016 18:09:55 GMT -5
Group
Posts
Mental Illness Ward
90
My heart may be missing, but my hands will make up for it.
Post by Aiden Stark on Jun 21, 2016 18:52:43 GMT -5
Aiden faked a gasp. "I'm offended that you would imply that I've ever not looked good," he said, chuckling once more. The truth was, Bailey believed that Aiden looked good because she'd never seen him any different. His tangled mess of hair was just as messy as always, and his signature cologne masked the smell of copious amounts of drug use. Aiden had spent most of his life perfecting the whole 'homeless chic' thing, and he was proud of it. It was all a show, but it served its purpose. Girls loved it and guys were intimidated by it without him even speaking a word.
"I've been great though. Freedom is wonderful. Too wonderful apparently since they decided to lock me up again," he explained. "I didn't fuck my teacher this time though, so I suppose that's progress." Surprisingly enough, Aiden's parents had allowed him to go back to his old school once he was out of the hospital. Aiden discovered rather quickly that school became much more interesting when you were the guy who got it on with the hot teacher. Or ex-teacher now. Poor girl will probably never work with minors ever again, not that Aiden cared. She was hot, and besides, she came onto him. He may have flirted a little to help the process along, but in the end it was her who made the first move, and that was Aiden's defense. It was the only reason that he didn't end up being expelled from school. He could play the defenseless little boy to the school board, but his parents didn't buy that of course. They decided sending him to the loony bin was a better idea.
Aiden had already been rather infamous around the campus of the uppity private school, as he was the only guy on campus who had any access to hard drugs, and that made him desirable. Who knows what those kids did while he was gone. Withdrawal must have been killer. But once everything went down with his teacher, Aiden couldn't go anywhere in that school without being noticed. And he loved it that way. It was amazing how easily people fell for the whole 'bad boy' persona. Was it a persona? Maybe he was actually just a bad person. He didn't think so. It was all just a game. Everything is a game.
"Apparently," Aiden continued, deciding that he would have to explain to her why he was back eventually. "Sneaking a girl into your room in the middle of the night now constitutes admission into a psychiatric hospital. I think my parents might be the crazy ones in this situation." Aiden shrugged, slumping back against the wall behind him and running a hand through his hair in an attempt to tame it.
Post by Bailey Henneth on Jun 21, 2016 21:46:35 GMT -5
"Look at you," She mused with little more than playfulness to her words, "you ended up here for a reason that isn't worse than mine. Go you," She gave up with zipping her luggage pack and shoved it under her bed with a roll of her eyes and a solid kick to send it skating out of sight.
"Good to know...'least you've got me to keep you out of trouble." She smiled a full-on, teeth exposed grin. She sifted through her solid gray toiletry bag and leaned over the edge of mattress to offer him a tiny, hard bristled travel brush.
She was joking, of course, but there was a meaning that sank in her stomach like lead. Bailey knew she would try and protect him. He was so easily manipulated by his own disorder. She knew that she was caught in his web of charm, but maybe in a way that separated her from other girls -- she knew better. She had seen him at his highs and lows. There was no being sucked into his false seduction.
Except maybe once, but only nearly. Bailey chased that thought out of her head, nearly retracting her offer of the brush just to avoid being those few inches closer to him.
Aug 27, 2016 18:09:55 GMT -5
Group
Posts
Mental Illness Ward
90
My heart may be missing, but my hands will make up for it.
Post by Aiden Stark on Jun 24, 2016 14:37:25 GMT -5
...'least you've got me to keep you out of trouble."
Did he? All Aiden could think about was all of the trouble that she was likely to cause him. But he couldn't bring himself to stop her from doing it either. He extended his arm and took the brush from her. He ran it idly through his untamed curls for a moment, but he knew that if he continued for too long, he would end up looking like a pre-pubescent Hermione Granger. No one needed that. "I suppose I do. Thanks," he said casually.
Aiden and Bailey had always been far too casual with each other, even before they had gotten to know each other very well. He didn't know what it was about her, but he never felt like he had to try very hard to get her to like him, or at least tolerate him. She was an easy catch, which would usually turn Aiden off immediately, but with her he liked it. Now, though, things felt slightly different. It felt as if Bailey had jumped ahead while he was stuck in time behind her. She was getting clean, making a life for herself, while Aiden was still being the careless idiot that he always had been. But Aiden didn't want to get better. Getting better would imply admitting that there is an issue in the first place, and Aiden had no capacity to believe that there was anything about himself that needed changing.
"Strange that you and I just happened to end up here together," Aiden said, raising a suggestive eyebrow at her. He thought maybe she might have known something about it, and if she didn't, he figured that she would think he was being sexually suggestive. He didn't think this was a coincidence, and he hoped that Bailey wasn't involved in the decision making.
Post by Bailey Henneth on Jun 24, 2016 15:50:41 GMT -5
Bailey shrugged at his words, not considering the wonder behind the fact they were stuck in a room together -- or a curtained off room, which wasn't worth much to someone as knowing as her or as sneaky as Aiden. "Yeah? I dunno. I just assumed they'd do everything to keep us separated. Not that they need to," She looked up at him, brows raised with emphasis. "Keep it in your pants, bedhead," She reached up, standing on her toes like a delicate pixie to ruffle his hair with her hand.
The sexual tension was back. Or maybe it had never left.
She missed him nonetheless. Most of the time, it was easy to be around him. They could sit in silence contentedly for hours, her head leaned against his arm until a staff member would shoot them a nasty glare. And if it wasn't easy, it was keeping her busy. Bailey would help him with laundry or slump in a chair in the corner of his room during an exceptionally difficult treatment day for him. Busy was good; busy meant stable, even if it was just for those few hours she'd tucked aside for him. It was a few more hours of the day she felt clarity.
Besides, she enjoyed helping him. It was a worrisome thing, wondering whether or not he truly enjoyed having her around or if she hadn't been making any sort of impact. Bailey liked to believe he wouldn't play her. He didn't need to. They were playing different games.
