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T h e   H o l l o w s   O f
H I R A E   T  H
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It was around midnight and I was sat up in my hospital bed, gazing out of my window, losing myself to the dancing stars and the myriad of street lights dotted around the academy grounds. I sighed as I was subconsciously aware of the clock ticking by.

The door handle to my room squeaked and I smiled to myself, sitting upright as I watched Jameson walk in. I grinned at him, relieved that he had actually turned up. He gave me only a small smile, but it didn't bother me since this was more than his usual gesture.

"I was beginning to think you weren't coming," I told him, referring to my earlier moments of loneliness where I had been staring out of the window as if the moon would talk to me.

Jameson had been sneaking into the hospital for a few days now, and since my only other source of entertainment were Angela's jokes, I enjoyed his visits.

Visiting hours closed just after dinner at half six, and so coming at midnight was pretty rebellious, especially for Jameson. It's actually quite amusing since Jameson didn't usually break the rules—God knows why he does it to visit me.

"No, of course not." Jameson simply responded and sat down on the chair. Clearing his throat, he added, "It's not like I have anything else to do." He shrugged, his eyes watching me, analysing my appearance in order to determine my wellbeing.

I laughed, "You could maybe sleep?" Jameson let out a single note of laughter in response. I grinned victoriously but relaxed the enthusiastic smile into a lazy one when Jameson frowned at me.

"So how are you?" He asked me, completely ignoring my sleep comment.

I shrugged, "I'm still alive," I noted and smiled, however, Jameson didn't return the favour. Instead, he gave me a sad smile. Awkward.

To move past the uneasy tension in the air, I pushed the covers off and swung my legs around, feeling the cold floor against the pads of my feet. Jameson, of course, immediately stood up with his eyes widened, his arm outstretched as if to catch my nonexistent fall.

"Calm down!" I giggled and pushed him. "I can walk now, the sessions with that weird dude actually paid off." I nodded approvingly.

'That weird dude' was actually a specially trained physician and he was helping me move about after whatever happened. More importantly, he was helping me walk.

He was somewhere in his thirties with dark brown hair and stubble. However, his name is something I don't know, he literally walked into my room one day and told me what his job was and to call him whatever I wanted; so I chose The Weird Dude.

Jameson shook his head disapprovingly at the nickname but did not stop me from showing off. And so, I stood up, wincing as I went, causing Jameson to instantly shoot up by my side. I waved him off, knowing that the pain was just a normal thing when I moved.

Jameson caught my hand and held it as I took a step to the left, trying to walk over to the door. I had achieved this distance in the training session with The Weird Dude, however, it took a while.

By the time I got to the edge of my bed, I found that I had to lean into Jameson slightly to lessen the strain on my wound. It's so frustrating, my legs feel fine and are ready to sprint off into the distance, yet the pain in my stomach warns me not to.

With the help of Jameson, I eventually made it over to the wall. When I did arrive, I repeatedly hit my forehead against the wall. Stupid stomach, stupid, stupid–

My forehead hit something rather soft and upon opening my eyes, I realised that Jameson had stuck his hand between my forehead and the wall quick enough to save my already throbbing forehead.

I groaned, wanting nothing but to slide down the wall and sit on the floor. But no, that's not possible either.

"Come on," Jameson interrupted my train of thoughts, "Let's walk you back to your bed." He tugged gently at both my hands but I pulled back.

"I can't," I told him, the annoyance evident in my voice, "That took too much energy." I added and gestured behind him, hinting at the walk I just did.

A frown appeared between Jameson brows, "Of course you can, it's not that far and I'll be right here." Although Jameson's voice was very coaxing, I still shook my head.

"I'm too tired." I told him with an upper lip of defiance. This was surely the end of the argument.

But a small smile appeared upon Jameson's lips. "More reason to get back to bed." He told me and I sighed. Why does he always win?

I grudgingly let Jameson take hold of my hands again, then I took an exhausted step forward. I looked down at my feet to make sure I didn't tumble over but Jameson let go of my left hand to tilt my head up with his right.

"Don't look down, you'll fall right over." He instructed me and I nodded, looking up instead of down. The only difficulty is that, when I looked up, all I could see was Jameson's face. It wasn't an unpleasant sight, of course not, it's more of the fact that it's just plain awkward. I was never good at that damn 'try not to laugh whilst staring at someone' challenge.

Jameson was staring right into my eyes, and I suddenly felt self-conscious, as if he could see right into me and read my mind. Obviously, that's quite impossible, but I'm just one of those awkwardly insane people.

As we walked to the edge of my bed, I felt the tension lift slightly, so my eyes did too. I stared into his eyes, as he had been doing mine.

I always found his eyes being so empty, I mean, sure, they had colour, but it was almost as if the colour isn't there. We came to a stop next to my bed but Jameson didn't let go off my hands. Instead, he continued to look into my eyes for a few seconds longer.

When I cleared my throat and tried to move past him to get back into bed, he only held onto my hands for a fraction of a second longer. I sat down carefully in my bed, wondering what even just happened.

"Told you that you could do it." Jameson smirked at me and I laughed. A smirk? Wow, what next? A laugh? A good nights sleep?

No, just kidding.

Outstretching my arm and pointing to the calendar across the room, which hung next to the door, I asked how many remaining days I have left in this prison. Cassie had bought the calendar for me to countdown the days until I get out of the hospital. Unfunnily enough, she gave the calendar a title: Cassie's Countdown Calendar. Couldn't have guessed it, could you?

Jameson didn't need to look over to the calendar to know, I reckon that he too has been counting down the days—maybe he is getting lonely. At least, that's what I'd like to think, but it's probably just Jameson being well—Jameson; a good little boy. I bet he must've got all the stickers in school. Teacher's pet.

"After this sleep, you'll have exactly a week." He informed me and I fist pumped the air before wincing. I've got to stop doing that.

"Careful!" Jameson scolded me and I rolled my eyes, leaning back and closing my eyes, finding that I was actually starting to become quite drowsy.

"On the subject of sleep," Jameson announced and I opened one eye as Jameson stood up. He reached behind me and I leaned forward slightly as he fluffed up my pillow.

"Maybe you should get some rest now." Jameson said it as a statement; the 'maybe' wasn't even necessary. He didn't want me to maybe go to sleep, he wanted me to go to sleep. Period.

Sighing, I shifted myself down the bed so that my head rested against my pillow. My eyelids became heavy as I sleepily waved my arm around at him.

"We barely even spoke." I complained and Jameson grunted in response, grabbing hold of my arm and tucking it in the covers.

"Jameson." I whined. This guy is so boring. This time, I wasn't even honoured with a grunt—his response was to pull up my covers to my chin.

"Are you cold?" He asked me and I turned to look at him.

"Do I look remotely warm?" I retorted and Jameson peered at me for a few moments before shaking his head, turning around to retrieve something from the floor, down by the door.

"I brought this from your room, I know you like to sleep with the whole of a duvet shop on you." Jameson returned with even more sarcasm than I had spoken with. Maybe a laugh will happen? Or maybe he will sleep? No, Sky, I think that's taking it too far.

"Sarcasm suits you." I told him, ignoring the comment about the duvet shop because it was totally true.

Jameson draped a fleecy blanket over the hospital bed, completely ignoring my retort, but I didn't mind as I snuggled into my warm bed. Closing my eyes, I let sleep come over me.

"Goodnight Sky." I heard Jameson's voice speak out to me in the distance.

"Thanks for the duvet shop." I murmured, my words slurred with sleep.

Jameson let out a two-note laugh.

Score.
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In the next chapter we see Jameson take his first nap

Baby steps, baby steps

#SKYSON WOO YEAH

who thought they were going to do the woohoo

lol I'm dead gotta blast

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Next update: Thursday
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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE SPOILER:

Sky receives a mysterious pendant.

Someone slips up and accidentally tells Sky the truth about a question she has been asking.

Sky is swarmed with paranoia.