Prescription for Miss Walker

I woke up the next morning with bile in my throat. I choked it out, growing woozier by the second as I watched it drip to the floor.

That’s right, I’d forgotten I’d slept by the door last night. I’d just got in from another night out with Madison and planned to head straight for bed, knowing the night wasn’t willing to keep me safe. I remember downing my whiskey, watching my best friend salivate all over a short girl, the bartender calling me a taxi home, and wonderful arms holding me as I poured out all my self-pity.

But, for some reason, I couldn’t recall who those arms belonged to.

It was probably Dave. He’d seen me drunk a whole load of times, often battled with me in the case of trying to rehydrate me, but I honestly didn’t think it was him. I’d had sex with Dave before, he wasn’t as toned as the muscles that had held me last night.

Shaking the thought off, claiming it as most probable a kind bystander, I hobbled to my feet. God, my head spun again, the pain coming back with a vengeance. I guess I never really did get rid of it.

I clambered my way to the bathroom, switching on the light and cursing when it burned my eyes. So, I turned it off again, keeping the door open so the daylight could illuminate the place for me.

Reaching inside of my medicine cabinet, I coughed. In reaction, my body jerked, so I winced and cried inwardly when multiple things fell into the sink. Glasses, cardboard boxes, perhaps even my toothbrush hit... Either way, it just made my head pound even more.

I’d grabbed the cap off a medicine bottle and tipped the contents out onto my hand. I tried to get a feel of how many there were, but unable to get a good read of them, I shrugged and tipped my head back.

Only for my wrist to be clamped on down by a serious force. I squealed a little, recoiling like it were a snake, as the bottle fell to the floor as well as the pills.

Something touched my face. A hand, I soon discovered, as I was pushed gently back out of there and right in to the lounge.

“Well... now your sudden interest in death seems every part intentional. Do I have to strap you to something?”

Oh God, no.

I met Dr Cameron’s eyes, which were hard and accusing. They clashed brilliantly with his black polo shirt and dark jeans. But, why was he looking at me like that?

“Hmm?” I was still pretty out of it.

What was he doing... and here?

“Come on, Miss Walker. Sit down.” He touched a hand to my waist and led me over to the couch. He sprawled me out, tucking a pillow under my head at an angle I could see him well enough. Then walked away, returning only to place a bottle of water on the coffee table. He sat down at the other end of the sofa, as I made sure to keep my legs closed over.

“I knew you were in a state last night, and I left you to your own devices, but I woke up this morning with a bad feeling. So, I came by to check in on you,” That stare was piercing. I rubbed my temples harder. “Good thing too, otherwise I’d have a dead patient.”

Ugh, that word.

“Before you decide to try and off yourself again, let’s make a bucket list, shall we?” I just watched him as he pretended to flip through an imaginary notepad and tap his teeth with his invisible pen.

This was not a time to make fun of me. I was tired and sore; couldn’t we do this later? Please.

“Number one. Let’s not tell family and friends so we can all live happily ever after for a few months. You know, until you drop dead at your nephew’s three-months-into-this-world party.” He made a giant dramatic tick in the air as he stood up, staring at his palm which held his pretend notes.

Okay, I get it. He was pissed off he’d appointed himself my doctor and we’d gotten nowhere. He had the right to be so, but it didn’t mean he could make a mockery out of my life.

“Secondly, we first witnessed this one last night. You clearly want to put yourself in harm’s way, so let’s try a game of cheating death. Let’s step out in front of oncoming vehicles going at forty miles per hour, or why not the classic painkillers-with-alcohol trick. Agh, soon we’ll be within hanging from the ceiling territory.”

Fuck off and shut up already, I mentally screamed at him. I could barely even speak, my eyes screwed to his ever-moving frame and not understanding a single word he was speaking.

I get it, alcohol mixed with drugs is not a good idea. Aren’t I just so lucky he was around to stop me?

Though I would take death over his constant lecturing any day.

“Then, finally, we have the drunken stupor of romance that surrounded us at two o’clock in the morning. It was amazing, wasn’t it?” Holding his hand to his heart and faking sniffles, I took a moment to click onto what he was meaning.

He was the one who saved me from getting run over. He’d taken me home and listened to me as I drunkenly rambled on about my door. And I had the stupid thought that...

“Oh, my God...” I slapped my arm around my eyes, unable to take any more looks from him and wishing the blackout it caused was real.

I’d kissed him! I had thrown all of my morals out the window and violated his mouth with mine. Luckily, he’d pushed me away before I dared make an even bigger fool of myself.

I’d touched the lips of a married man, I’d never done that before. Sure, he could be nice (on an extremely rare occasion), and he was by far the most gorgeous person I had ever come across... but I never actually planned to kiss him. Not unless he instigated it, or made it obvious he held an interest.

Which he had not.

Fuck. How was I going to get out of this one?

“Doctor Cameron, I am–”

“No apologies. You may have been out of your mind last night, but I was not. And, after you threw yourself at me, I left you to fend by yourself. My actions were unjust.”

My eyes bulged. Was he saying sorry to me?

“Now, I’m going to call you breakfast and then we’ll chat about your treatment. Alright? You have to listen to me this time as well, you’re still drunk.”

Sticking my tongue out to his retreating back, I threw myself off the couch and went to head for my bed. Unluckily for me, Dr Cameron was fast, he dropped the phone and picked up my arm until he was under it, guiding me in the correct direction. Any other time I’d take advantage of this situation, however due to his marital status and my inability to think straight, I decided not to do it.

He walked with me, placing me down softly on the bed as I began to remove my ladder-ridden tights.

“Miss Walker… whatever are you doing?” He hissed. Not angry per se, more or less apprehensive of my actions than intentions.

“Getting into my pajamas. I’m not going to wear this disgusting dress all day.”

“Alright then. Tell me when you’re done.” He waltzed away ten paces or so, until he was by the kitchen island and ruffling through takeout menus. He bit on his lower lip every now and then as he read them all.

I moved towards my dresser, grabbing an old pair of flannel nightwear. I laid them on the bed, as I unzipped my dress. It fell off easily and became a pretty floral pattern on the floor. I stepped out of the pool and unclasped my bra, sighing in relief. Man, I had no idea how I slept in that thing. My nipples hit the cold air and I shivered, as I began tugging down my underwear. The smooth satin caressed my ass cheeks and thighs as it made its own journey to join the rest of last night’s clothes.

I stood like that for a few moments, feeling the exact sensation I wanted to before I slipped on my pajamas.

The sensation of promised eyes watching.