A Better Time

This is a time for change, for self-improvement. 
I need to grow up. I am in need of growing up.
This is a time to become someone.
Wouldn't it be awesome to be someone I love?

I got a haircut.
Which is really big for me, considering I'm on a leash grasped tight in my father's traditional ways. 
My waist length hair is shoulder length now, and boy, if only you saw the mountain of hair around me. 
The last time I played a stunt like this, albeit with intentions only to hurt, I had just climbed off the plane from strict Pakistan, and my father didn't talk to me for a year. 
It was hurtful. It was painful.
A year is a long time to feel hated.

I'm just glad that we regained our close relationship. 
Although, since my father is in Pakistan right now, this might not have been a good time.
But hopefully, after seeing me on Skype yesterday, he'll have some time to get over it. 
I hope, and I pray. 

But this needs to be done.
I need to grow up.

(And after prospects for an arranged marriage were rejected for being unacceptable for me, I've gotta figure out my own future. Holy amazon, that's a story in itself I'm at a loss for.. Starting a mindset I am not accustomed to believe was in my power.. And how the hell does "love" play in this game??)

Anyways.
The only person who can figure you out is yourself. 
And if that's not true, please, reevaluate why that is.
I did, and now I have a purpose.

Feeling refreshed and light, I'm going to better myself.
Because now is a better time than never.

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Time Before Reinforcements Arrive

JournalWord: Beds not made for two.

***

He feels a light tap on his shoulder, but doesn't bother with it. Instead, he sighs quietly and pulls the blonde haired girl closer to him. The tap is a little harder now and a low groan escapes his lips.

The tapping is constant now and attempting to bruise his shoulder.

"Mr. Gerson?" He hears a voice whisper.

His eyes stir open, meeting the slightly blurry form of a nurse. At this moment, his eyes snap open, but instead of pushing away the girl he holds in his arms, he pulls her closer. His eyebrows scrunch down and his eyes narrow into a dangerous stare directed at the nurse.

She seems taken aback, to say the least.

"Leave." Ryan says quietly, although his voice is harsh and cold from being woken up.

She frowns. "Mr. Gerson, you're not supp-"

"Leave." Ryan barks, biting out his incisors.

Upon realizing his action could wake the sleeping blonde, he abruptly quiets, although his features harden menacingly. He scowls at the nurse as she frowns once more, his glare becoming deadly when she doesn't move. A sneer starts to slowly form on his lips, effectively disappearing when the nurse finally shuts the door behind her.

Ryan turns back to the girl in his arms, his grip relaxing as he takes in the wires attached to her. She looks so out of place, her content, slumbering form wrapped in IV drips and heart monitors. Her thin body is pressed against him, clinging to him in fistfuls of his shirt, leaving no room between them.

At least now she is asleep. She isn't in pain right now, and can finally rest after being constantly pained for four days. She is being tortured by her own body as her heart slowly fails.

Having her in his arms feels so right. He can be here for her now. And he'll make sure she makes it past every obstacle with his support.

He snuggles his face into her hair, looking forward to catching some more sleep before that wretched nurse comes back with reinforcements. Ryan closes his eyelids, thinking that at least this is a blissful moment.

But he still wishes this one-person hospital bed could hold two people, because, damn, he is squished.

***

I definitely have a fascination with the medical world. Damn you, Medical Sciences, for being so darn interesting!

Possessive people are just so cute :)

Be good,
Mera!

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