You watch him, watching the sunrise.
Little shafts of infant orange light sliding through the gaps in the blinds, slicing across a face swollen tender and bruised.
Little specks of dust caught in the up-draft, sparkling in the early rays like swirls of glitter in front of his eyes.
Little consistent mechanical beeps, muffled into melody, reminding you both where you are.
He doesn't talk.
You reason it probably hurts too much to open his mouth.
Or he's embarassed. Regretful and ashamed of himself.
(You hope so.)
He knows you're there, though.
Leaning in the doorway to his private room. Arms folded. A man ready to take on the world.
He knows you're there, because you can tell from the way his head's positioned at a complete ninety degree angle towards the window and away from the door, doing his best to avoid eye contact and avoid your inevitable onslaught.
You want to be mad at him.
You want to shout.
It's all there, building tension in your stiff, squared shoulders and clenched, set jaw.
You wanna tell him he's an ignorant, selfish, intolerable arsehole. You wanna scream and call him every derogatory insulting name you can think of.
You wanna give him a bruise to match the black eye on the right side. You wanna demand he man the fuck up.
And he's waiting for it.
You know he is.
Because /he/ knows /you/.
But for some reason the words are sticky.
For some reason, propped up in a hospital bed, narrow shoulders and bird-like collarbones, pale and sickly and wretched and worn, Elvis — Mr. Big Mouth and Bigger Ego, Mr. Big Dreams and Big Grand Tragic Fucking Gestures to Break Your Heart Apart — looks /small/.
And it occurrs to you that you never really thought of him as something transient, something mortal, something with a finite amount of resources before.
Your best mate is — and always has been — invincible.
(You both are.)
"I thought I'd lost you." It's out before you realise. Soft-spoken. All feeling.
A sentence you immediately wish you could scoop back into your mouth and replace with the spitting confrontation that you really want.