Quote Prompt: October
“To be thoroughly conversant with a man's heart, is to take our final lesson in the iron-clasped volume of despair.” ~ Edgar Allan Poe
He ignored the odd look of sympathy tinged with confusion as the nurse took Neela’s chart from him. He didn’t care that he’d been caught in a lie. It didn’t matter so long as they left him alone with her. He hadn’t wanted someone she used to date, someone he viewed as unworthy competition, looming over her now. Not now, not ever really. The harmless lie (harmless to her at least, and that’s all that mattered) was going to keep the ER intern out of the post op recovery room and this was all Lucien wanted.
As he sat in the dimly lit room, the only sounds were the beeping of monitors and the quiet breaths she took while in her drug-induced slumber. He hooked his arms over he side of the raised guardrail and took one of her small hands in his much larger one. Being alone with her wasn’t all he wanted after all. He wanted to feel her pulse, steady and strong, under his fingertips. Her wanted her to open her eyes and look up at him without the haze and confusion he’d seen hours ago, when she had last been conscious. He wanted her to speak, to prove that her neurologic functions were intact.
She did none of these things of course. The chief surgical attending knew she wouldn’t, not for some time yet. Not after the major blood loss and prolonged anesthesia. Not with the severity of her injuries. Of course the surgeon knew all of this, but the man…the man who was in love with her didn’t care about the science, the medicine. The man only wanted her to be all right. Now.
He continued to sit, to watch, wait. It was a slow agony he couldn’t escape from. He had nearly lost her. In the ER he had done the chest compressions himself, looked on in mild panic as another shocked her. Not once, but twice. In the OR, he lost it. His usual calm had fled, reduced him to panicked yelling and swearing as her blood,
her blood, soaked his gown, his scrubs, his shoes. Even now, when she was out of immediate danger, he found no comfort in the unknown. There was no way to tell if she suffered any permanent damage. Not until she woke up.
Now all he could do was sit.
Watch.
Wait.
Hope.
Muse: Lucien Dubenko
Fandom: ER
Word Count: 396
Role play (y/n):y
comments: here, please