I wake up and the light is so bright that it's nearly blinding. I feel something being wrapped around my knee, and something accidentally bumps into my knee, I wince. My vision slowly begins to come back into focus, and before I can see everything properly, I can hear multiple voices, and feel a few pairs of hands here and there.

"Oww." I whimper, still feeling a slight stinging in my knee, but it isn't as intense as it was earlier when the injury first occurred.

"She's awake." Someone says, and my head turns in the direction of the voice, trying to identify it.

"Hey, how're you feeling?" A different man asks me, and that voice is familiar.

I realize that it's Dr. Rian Peterson, and I smile. The smile may have been from the medicine making me feel slightly loopy, or maybe because I knew that Dr. Rian Peterson is here, and that he's going to take care of me. My mind is having a hard time trying to decide which answer is right. My eyes stay directly on him and not on the other people that are in the room, and he flashes his smile briefly.

"I'm hurting," I groan. "Really bad."

"I know, we've got your numbing medicine from the clinic so you can take it if you start hurting. Okay?" Dr. Rian Peterson says.

"Okay," I say flatly. "Did you do my reduction?"

"Myself and a couple of other doctors. We've got your knee in a splint, and it's going to stay like that for a couple of weeks. You'll go to orthopedics for a check up once the couple of weeks is over, and they'll give you a brace. How long you'll have the brace is up to them, and your condition. After that comes physical therapy, and you'll see them every week. This'll all be over before you know it, okay?" He asks.

Most of what he just said went through one ear and out of the other, so I just nod and act like I just heard everything that he said.

"Yeah," I mumble. "Am I going home or something?"

"Well, that'll be up to you. Since you are eighteen and considered an adult." He asks, and leans against the wall.

His position, the look in his eyes, everything. Dr. Rian Peterson runs his hand in his hair before folding his arms, which make his biceps look even bigger than usual. He just makes everything look so effortless, so smooth, so...easy.

Damn, he's beautiful.

"I don't want to go home to my mom. You saw her, I don't think anybody would want to go home to her." I say and cross my arms, mimicking his body language.

"I don't know what she's done, but I can tell, by your demeanor, that you and her don't get along very well." He says with a chuckle towards the end of his sentence.

I don't say anything, and my expression hardens. I don't know what was so funny, but his smile made up for it. He has perfect teeth, and they're perfectly straight and aligned. The thoughts caused by his statement are easily forgotten.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you in any way or anything." He says, worry covering his face.

He tends to apologize a lot.

My entire face warms, and I smile at him. He doesn't need to be this concerned about me, but for some reason, he is. Doctors are obviously supposed to be interested in getting the patient back to their healthy state, but being concerned about their personal feelings is something I haven't heard of.

"It's okay, it's fine." I say, slightly lying.

"No, it's not, I can tell. I just want to be relatable to you. I'm only twenty four, I was a teenager not too long ago, so I've experienced the emotions that you're feeling." He explains, with slight sympathy and feeling in his voice.

He's only 24? That's only 6 years!

Why would that matter? You don't have a chance with the man.

"Do you know how long you plan staying in the hospital?" Dr. Rian Peterson asks.

"I don't know, to be honest. Dr. Rian Peterson, you've been so nice to me." I say gratefully.

"I try to get close to my patients," He says and winks. "I'm glad I could help."

Close to his patients.

My heart rate has been on a rollercoaster lately, and I have a feeling that it's going to be a very long ride before it's over. He's making it impossible to come down from this high, in fact, he's raising me higher and higher into the clouds.

Hell, I'll be on this ride for quite a long time.

"Can I tell you something? Since, you know, you said you like to get close to your patients." I blurt out, and it's too late to stop myself.

Wait, what?

Alex, what're you doing?

I have a tendency to be impulsive and just blurt out random things, sometimes those things are ridiculous. Some of those things I don't mean wholeheartedly, but once again, I blurt it out so fast that I don't have enough time to think it through before saying it.

"Sure, I mean I'm no therapist, but I can try to alleviate your current predicament."

Okay, it's happening.

"Well, see you heard what I said to her, right? About her never being there to support me, and how I didn't need her? Well, she was also abusive towards me, but never my siblings. I felt like I was worthless, and I just wished that my dad was here with me. Especially after Austin." I explain to him, my voice wobbling as I go.

I can't believe I'm telling him this.

"Austin? Who's Austin?" He asks, slightly clenching his jaw.

The way his jaw clenches in anger and just the brief mention of Austin causes me to pause momentarily, because I wasn't expecting him to react so quickly, or so strongly.

"Savannah mentioned the little bastard. You don't know the whole story, and I'm not sure if I want to tell you that. You know about my mom, but not Austin. Austin is just, something else." I shake my head, and scoff.

"You can trust me, it'll stay between me and you." He says, and then he grabs my hand.

The sudden gesture causes me to freeze, and my thoughts are sent into overdrive. So many different feelings are swimming around in my body that I cannot locate the strongest one that I'm feeling, so I'm temporarily flabbergasted and unable to say anything.

My palms are sweaty, and I can't help but feel this overwhelming heat form around us, making a light sweat on my brow. Dr. Rian Peterson has strong hands, and they're smoother than I expected them to be. There's a faint feeling of trust as I look at him again, and I cannot help but wonder what he would say or do if I confessed to every single misfortune that has ever happened to me.

My heart speeds off again for the millionth time, and I hope he didn't notice my breath hitch. He looks me directly in the eyes, and I look away, slightly intimated by him.

I can't even look him in the eye.

"Or, if you don't want to tell me, I'll totally accept your decision. It's your business, not mine." He adds, and I sigh.

I don't think I'll tell him.

Not yet, anyway.