Falling for my boyfriend’s Navy brother.
Chapter 102: Asher
Room 216.
The hallway outside is quiet now—eerily so. No more footsteps. No more soft murmurs at the nurses‘ station. Just the low buzz of florescent gig má the quiet hum of machines behind doors. It’s just after one in the morning. The hospital has curled in on itself like a sleeping beast.
I stand outside the room for too long.
The chart on the door says her name. Penelope Vales. I read it twice. Like maybe that’ll make this less surreal.
Eventually, I press the handle down. It clicks. The door opens on a breath of antiseptic and something warmer–vanilla. Still her.
The room is dark except for one dim light over the bed, casting everything in soft amber. Shadows cling to the corners, but my eyes go straight to her
She’s sleeping.
And fuck, she looks-
No, not peaceful. Not untouched. Not okay.
But alive,
And that’s enough to knock the air out of me.
I shut the door behind me quietly and take a step in. Then another. My boots are too loud on the linoleum, so I slow down, barely breathing. I don’t want to wake her. I just want to look at her.
She’s curled on her side, one arm tucked under the pillow, the other resting on top of the thin hospital blanket. There’s a tube in that one–IV line taped to her skin, feeding into the crook of her elbow. Her fingers twitch now and then, like even in sleep, she can’t be still.
Her hair’s been brushed back. Cleaned, probably. But there’s still a faint pink tint near her temple, staining the roots like ghost–blood. Her leotard is still on -ripped slightly at the shoulder seam, stained at the neckline. Someone tried to scrub it out. They didn’t succeed.
Her face…
God.
There’s a bruise blooming just near her hairline, soft purple and angry red. A thin line splits the skin above her brow, clean and straight, like a razor nick- but it’s stitched. I can see the tiny butterfly bandages pulling the skin together beneath the antiseptic wash. It’s healing, but…
She shouldn’t be here.
She shouldn’t be like this.
My chest aches. I can’t look away.
There are more bruises on her arms, faint yellow and blue beneath her skin–leftovers from training, probably. But they feel different now. Sharper Evidence. The soft curve of her shoulder is mottled with fingerprints. Luc’s. I know it. Not malicious, just… the result of catching her too late.
I sink into the chair beside the bed.
My knees hit the edge and 1 force myself to lower slowly, even though my legs are shaking.
I sit there, elbows on thighs, staring at her.
The beeping of the monitor is steady. Her pulse–soft and rhythmic. Good. Her breathing–shallow, but even. Her lips are parted slightly. One of her eyelashes is stuck to her cheek.
1/4
Chapter 102: Asher
1 let my eyes roam.
Hairline. Neck. Collarbone Arms. Breathing. Legs under the blanket. No splints. No cast. No machines I don’t recognize. Working whed to his pa Just the IV and that monitor. That’s it.
The doctors already told us everything. She’s stable. She’s fine.
But I can’t believe it until I see it.
Until I make my own damn assessment.
Because logic says she’s okay.
But my body is screaming otherwise.
My head drops, hands to my face. I breathe in deep. Count to four. Hold. Breathe out.
It’s not war. It’s not the jungle. It’s not blood in sand and fire in the trees. It’s not limbs rolling and friends dying and screams and blood and terror. Em not there. It’s a hospital room. A girl in a bed. My girl. Not my girl, but my girl. My-
My breath hitches.
I reach for her hand. It’s cold. Not worryingly cold, just… hospital cold. Her skin is dry, papery at the fingertips. But it’s hen
I bring her hand to my mouth. Press my lips to her knuckles.
Then I lower my forehead to it, my body curling toward her like a prayer.
“What happened, Penny?”
It’s a whisper. A thread of breath.
“You’re not careless. Not like this. So how could this happen?”
The words echo in my skull.
That night at dinner. When she sat across from me, bold and half–teasing and more brilliant than I’d ever seen her, telling Rooster-
“Half an inch in the wrong direction, a split second of inattention, and y
you could destroy your body. End your career.
She knew.
She knew what could happen. She knew how careful she had to be, So did Luc.
And still it happened.
I look up, brush my thumb over her wrist. Her pulse is strong under the skin. But something in me won’t settle. I can’t stop thinking about how this could happen.
Tyler went to pick her up.
Someone entered the studio with their phone on. The ring startled Luc. He dropped her.
Tyler saw the whole thing,
My jaw clenches.
Something doesn’t sit right.
Chapter 102: Asher
Someone broke protocol in that studio. And it wasn’t Lie. He’s a perfectionis Disciphard. And he was dancing 10 a leanty wakar i dine vandens
And phones in the studio? Banned. I know, I saw the sign when I went with her that one time.
It would’ve had to be so who felt above that rule. Someone who doesn t think twice. Sitene whe
No.
No.
My back straightens.
No.
It couldn’t be. It’s not possible.
Tyler.
Tyler would never.
Except… he didn’t come here. He’s not here. Not even to sit by her side. Not even after seeing her fall.
Our parents said he’s in shock.
They said he kept repeating “It’s
my fault.”
The blood drains from my face. I stand. Too fast. The chair scrapes the floor.
I stagger back a step, shaking.
No.
Because if that’s true…
If he is the reason she’s here, bruised and split and bandaged and broken…
Then I have to hit him. Hard. Once. Twice. Until my knuckles split. Until the rage has somewhere to go.
And she’d hate that.
And she needs him for the Gala. Even
now
Especially now.
If she finds out he did this, it could unravel everything for her.
So I can’t know. Not tonight.
Not now.
I press the heels of my hands to my eyes again,
Then I look at her.
Still sleeping.
Still beautiful.
breathing hard.
Even bandaged, she’s the most dangerous thing I’ve ever seen. A minefield. A trigger.
3/4
Chapter 102: Asher
A home
And it hits me all at once, sudden and cruel-
Fuck. I love her.
Not just want. Not just crave,
Love,
And I’ve been holding it like a secret grenade for weeks.
I cross the room slowly, Sit again. This time softer. Calmer.
I lean my head on the side of her bed. One hand curled around hers. The other on my knee, gripping tight.
I don’t say it out loud. Not yet.
But it’s there in every breath.
Every glance,
Every aching second I’ve sat in this waiting room, craving her like a madman.
She’s here.
And so am 1.
And I’m not going anywhere.
Chapter Comments
POST COMMENT NOW
4
<SHARE
