Song~ Touch by Nick Jonas

***
Beep. Beep. Beep.

  A steady buzzing noise rings in my ear. I lift my head to shut off my alarm, but a searing pain emanates from my chest. I slump back into bed and open my eyes. I blink multiple times before acclimatizing to my surroundings. I'm neatly tucked into a hospital bed. An IV is poked into my wrist while a blood bag on a rack stands beside my bed. I gently use my arms to raise me so I can sit up. Beside my bed, I find a pager to summon a nurse.

  "Good morning, Ms. Marshall. How are you feeling?" A cheerful voice asks. A tall brunette strides gracefully into the room holding on to a clipboard.

  "Never been better," I reply sarcastically. "What happened?"

  She sends me a bright smile. "I'll grab Dr. Marcus and he'll explain everything."

  She turns around, but pauses to mention, "A handsome man, the one he arrived shortly after you, stayed up all night to make sure you're okay. I will notify your parents that you're awake now. We'll have you home in no time."

  I wait a moment in silence. Finally, Dr. Marcus appears. He firmly shuts the door behind him and takes a seat beside my bed. "Good morning, Vivian."

  There isn't anything good about this morning I want to say, but I refrain and give him a small smile.

  He grabs a clipboard from the foot of my bed and studies it carefully. "I am aware you went cliff jump0ing yesterday. I have warned you many times about excessive exercise and the effects it can have on your body. Your heart cannot pump enough blood to sustain the stamina it would require to get exercise. That, plus the adrenaline sent your heart into overdrive and it couldn't keep up with you. What you suffered from was consequences for your actions. However, we did a quick scan and found a small infection in your respiratory system which explains the shortness of breath. It is nothing too serious and with an added dosage of antibiotics you should be up and running later this afternoon, figuratively speaking."

  "Thank you. So it's nothing too serious?" I ask making sure I'm okay.

  He nods curtly. "I wouldn't advise you do anything like that again. You got lucky this time, Vivian. If you keep this up next time you might not be so lucky." He stands up. While exiting he adds, "I'll write out a prescription now and give it to your parents when they come pick you up."

  "Thank you so much. I won't do it again. I've learned my lesson."

  The nurse from earlier pops her head in. "Mason wants to see you. Should I send him in?"

  "Yes please."

  Mason enters the room and hurriedly hugs me. I smile as he buries his face into my hair.

  "I was so worried. They wouldn't let me in unless I was family so I waited all night. Your parents came as soon as they found out and left early this morning to change their clothing. How are you feeling?"

  I wave a dismissive hand. "Nothing some medicine and coffee can't cure."

  "I really am sorry, Viv." His deep blue eyes stare into mine and I can see the guilt and worry they contain.

  "Don't worry about it. I'm fine."

  He skeptically studies my face and sits down on the bed. A moment of silence passes between us.

  "It's ironic really."

  He cocks his head to the side. "What is?"

  "My nickname is the present tense conjugation of the word vivre, granted it has an e at the end. Vivre translates to the verb to live in English."

  "You speak French?"

  I shrug one shoulder. "A little bit. I have a lot of free time. Why did you stay here all night? You should have gone home."

  He lets out a deep breath. "Perhaps. I'm sure my family can manage just fine without me. They're used to being Independent."

  "Why?" I ask before I have a chance to filter my mouth. "Sorry that was rude. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

  "It's not like I don't want to because I do, but I've had to be the rock in my family for so long I wouldn't know where to begin. One day I will," he mutters, looking down at the bed sheet.

  "Okay." Mason uses his thumb to soothingly rub my knuckles.

  "Would you...lay with me? Even if it's for a little while" I wince and continue on with a small voice. "And could you  tell me something, anything. I could really use a distraction right now."

  He looks up. "Yeah, if you'd like."

  I shuffle over to the right and lift the blanket so he can climb in beside me. He lays down to my side and pulls me over so my head is resting comfortably on his chest. Through his chest, I can hear the steady pumping of his heart.

  Mason blows out some air before speaking. "When I was little, my mother and I along with my younger sister, would set up a tent made from old blankets in our backyard. Then we'd wait until nightfall and huddle under our shelter beneath the stars and she would tell us stories about far away places and distant lands. Me and my sister would listen in child-like wonder to the way her voice sounded and the way she enunciated each word. Some of my fondest memories are of her sitting for hours creating scenes and stories for me and my sister. My favorite was the story  about the knight and the tower. I didn't understand its meaning and importance until now. Would you like to hear it?"

  I lift my head slightly and look at the fond gleam in his eye. "Yes, please tell me."

  "Once there was a courageous young knight. He had slayed every foul beast that threatened his kingdom that he was sworn to protect and he had saved every damsel in distress. However, the King had summoned him for one last quest. The King had demanded he ride his horse deep within the forest to where a witch lived in a crumbling shack. Upon entering, he was to open the cage and set free its captor even if that meant risking his life. The King mentioned the witch had captured a beautiful creature and was planning on destroying it for the sake of a potion. He was not to question the King or his quest. He was simply to do it without hesitation. And so, he did as he was told. He saddled his horse and confidently rode into the forest. The knight found the shack just as the King said he would. The knight burst in to an already waiting witch. She put up a great fight, as it was not willing to succumb to the rescuer. The knight suffered many blows from the witch and at one point, was prepared to be defeated. But the King's words rang in his ears and was not willing to be defeated, so he managed to trick the elderly witch by making her drink one of her own potions which then put her into a deep sleep. He scoured the main part of the home for the captor, but found nothing. He entered the back and in a small cage, was a bright purple butterfly. He opened it and released it. He returned to the King once more victorious and all ended well."

  I furrow my brows. "But why would he risk himself for something as simple as a butterfly? There are hundreds more. What made that one so special?"

  Mason smiles. "I asked my mother the same thing. She looked down at me with a warm smile and said some things are worth fighting for. Everyone is like the butterfly, you see. Beautiful, yet tormented. Each one craving the release the knight brought forth. The story is a metaphor my mom told us both to teach us a lesson. The witch represents the things in life holding us back while we, the humans represented by the butterfly, are trapped in a cage, struggling for freedom. She told us the message of the story is that if we had the chance to be the knight and set free a butterfly, that we should take it because no feeling in the world tops the one that you get when you release something innocent and pure."

  My breath hitches in my throat at the meaningfulness behind his words.

"You're my butterfly, Vivian. I'm here to set you free, even if it means getting hurt and taking risks in the process."

  My heart nearly jumped out of my chest. I tentatively lift my hand and run it down his jawline. He tilts his head so it's resting in the flat of my palm.

  "I can set you free if you let me," he whispers.

  With gleaming eyes, I respond, "You already have."

  I roll over so my chest is on his. Our eyes lock and I can feel the warmth emitting from his breath. We're close, but not close enough. My whole body is tingling at our proximity, yet I crave more. I lift my head and slowly bring it closer to his. His strong cologne reminds me of rain. I hover over him for a moment, unsure if I should go through with it or not.

  As if sensing my hesitation, Mason raises a hand and runs it through my hair. His hand slips behind my head and pulls me down gently so my lips land on his. His kiss is sweet and gentle as his soft lips meld with mine. I can tell he's restraining himself, probably because he still feels guilty about yesterday and fears he might hurt me. His hands run through my hair and mine do the same with his. Finally, we break apart and take a moment to regain our sense. I rest my head back on his chest.

  I contently sigh and feel at peace. As I slowly begin to dose off, I hear him whisper.

  "Where have you been my whole life?" He presses a kiss on the top of my head.

  "Waiting in a cage for you," I respond before drifting off.

***

  I was discharged a couple minutes ago. With my prescription in one hand and Mason's fingers intertwined with my other we leisurely walked to his car. My parents had arrived shortly and left us a note explaining that I was released and could leave as soon as we woke up.

  Mason, being the chivalrous man he is, insisted he drive me home.

  "Not all adventures are the let's-do-something-so-crazy-we-could-possibly-die-but-don't-and-it-will-make-a-great-story-for-our-children-someday type. Some can be the soft-yet-still-meaningful type. This one is the latter. We're going to have ourselves a little carpool karaoke. So roll down your window and sing your lungs out," Mason instructs with a goofy smile on his face.

  He starts the car and turns on the radio. Shake It Off by Taylor Swift blasts through the speakers. I belt out the lyrics and lose myself to the music. All the pain from yesterday and today are now forgotten. I wave my hands crazily in the air as I dance as best one can when being held back by a seat belt.

  The car pulls up to my house. "Thank you for helping me get to my house," I say mimicking James Corden as best as I can. I giggle when Mason does a small bow in his seat.

  Before getting out of the car, I turn back to Mason. "I don't want to start a relationship. Who knows how long I actually have, but it seems pointless to have a relationship when it could end at any given time. But I really do like you. You're one of the best guys I have ever met and I just don't want to hurt you. I hope you understand."

    He leans over and presses a kiss on my cheek. "I really like you too. And if you aren't looking for a relationship then that's fine. I'll take whatever you give me so long as I get to be in your life. I'm not going to deny that I have feelings for you, because I do. I think I made it pretty obvious when I kissed you. You know, we don't have to be in a relationship to act like a couple. I know I haven't known you for long, but I want to be with you."

  "So do I. I really really do. Even if I don't get to be with you long, it's still better than nothing because for that little while I would get a taste at freedom. I just don't think I can have the girlfriend label because of the circumstances."

  "That's okay with me, but on one condition."

  "What's that?"

  "I can still treat you like one."

  I resist the urge to grin like a lunatic. I slowly nod my head. "I think we can manage that."

  He leans over over and presses his lips against mine for a brief kiss.

  "Goodbye, Mason."

  "Goodbye, butterfly."

   Our conversation replays in my head the whole night. Every time I think about it my whole body tingles with excitement. This boy has a hold on me, that's without a doubt. I rest my head on my pillow and allow it to repeat once more.