The Key Chased the Blade

I waited there for what seemed like forever. Eventually Simon returned with some gnarly stitches and a sheepish expression on his face. I almost wanted to hit him, but I didn't.

"You need to fill out everything I couldn't fill out in the stupid paperwork," I said.

"Alright." His expression softened, and he went to go do his stupid paperwork. God. I wanted to leave. I couldn't deal with him. I stood up and flung the magazine back on the table with the other ones. It landed with the cover bent underneath it and the pages strewn everywhere. For some reason I had to go back and fix it before I stormed out. Simon eventually realized I was throwing a fit and chased me out the door.

I threw a fist at him, but it didn't hit him too hard. My hand was shaky and it just grazed him. I couldn't look at him. I was possibly yelling at him, but nothing really came out coherent. It was something like, "you stupid freaking idiot!" and "you scared the living hell out of me!" and I started crying. God. I wasn't a crier. But for some reason this day just made me cry. These were tears of frustration, fear, and worry. Jesus. It hit me again. Reality just kept hitting me. I could've lost Simon.

I could've lost him.

Simon hugged me. I hugged him back and he just held me while I cried in front of the stupid hospital doorway. I swear I would've never done this in my life. I never would've done this before. I was freaking crying and Simon was holding me and he was rubbing my back, which just made me cry more. God. This day was so messed up.

I slurred out some more insults and tried to pull myself together. Simon squeezed me. I swear I had poured buckets of tears and snot on his shirt. But when we finally pulled away, there was only small wet spot from my tears. It made me feel bad, but I couldn't let myself cry any more.

"Are you okay?" Simon whispered.

"Y-yeah," I wiped away my tears. He put a reassuring hand on my shoulder and rubbed it with his thumb. The gesture made me freaking burst into tears again and I was so pissed at myself for doing that. "Simon, you could've died!" I blurted.

"I could've." He only smiled. "Luckily I didn't lose that much blood."

I wanted to hit him, to run away and cry, but I didn't. I scrubbed away my tears and made sure none had ever existed. When I looked back, Simon had his hand up, formed in a sign.

I love you.

God, here came the waterworks again. I just stood there, sniffing and hiccuping, and I could barely hold up my hand to sign him back.

I love you too.