SHE'S MINE → JASON MCCANN

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chapter thirty-nine |
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"Mr. Bieber she can't leave the hospital yet." The doctors aid hesitantly. I'm guessing he was afraid of his reaction. The doctor was clutching on to his clipboard, glancing at it every few seconds. My eyes looked over to Jason's then back at the doctor. Jason sighed deeply, biting his bottom lip. He looked agitated. All he wanted to do was leave, so we can get out of the hospital; there were to many people, it made him feel on edge.

"Why not?"

"The doctors want to run a few tests just to make sure her vitals are good, it will only take an hour or two." He said politely. He had a sympathetic expression on his face; he seemed like such a nice doctor that was only trying to do his job.

"What have you guys been doing for the past 8 hours?" He questioned, Zayn got up from the small sofa. He walked up to them, sending the doctor a small smile. "It's fine, don't mind him...he's just tired." He said. He rested his hand on Jason's shoulder, hoping to calm him down. The doctor nodded his head reassuringly, exiting out of the door.

"Your bringing too much attention towards us," Zayn scoffed. "Just relax we'll be out of here soon."

"I've spent too much time in this depressing place." Jason spat. His moody eyes met mine. His deeply frowned face softened once he looked at me. I was tired & all wanted to do was just sleep. He had a flustered look on his face, as he walked up to my bedside. He hesitantly ran his fingers through my hair, it was like he was scared to touch me.

It was weird.

"You okay?" He asked softly. His voice was drowned out by his friends that were sitting on the sofa by the corner of the room.

"I've been better."

"Oh." He mumbled, he was staring down at my hand that was laced with his, he started playing with my fingers. I didn't know if he was just nervous, just being fidgety or what.

"There's something that I'm extremely curious about." I said, watching him. He seemed so concerned, it isn't anything bad I'm just not sure if it's real or not. I asked him earlier about it, but it seemed like his mind was preoccupied or he flat out ignored me.

"What." He whispered. His brown eyes stared down at me admiringly. It was hard to look into them for longer than a second.

"I remember when I got hit, I saw you immediately. & you told me that you were sorry. It was blurry, & you were there—& the windshield glass was shattered. I want to know if that was real, or I dreamed it." I rushed, while staring up at the ceiling. I watched him, his grip tightened on my hands. I looked at his face, finally, & It was distant. I heard his breathing pick up & his palms were becoming sweaty against mine.

"Why do you keep asking this question, I don't understand." He groaned, tilting his head back in aggravation.

I don't know what is wrong with me asking this question.

"Why do you keep avoiding my question? You ignored me the first time I asked." I shot back,

what the hell is his problem? I don't get it.