Braelyn’s POV
"Lyn, please stay with ." The voice faded in my mind. Dad was crying. I suddenly fainted in the flower shop on our way to visit my mum at the cetery.
It was the first ti I was going to et her. My mind was blurry cause I was tiny then but I rembered vividly what the doctor said when I ca through.
"It’s an allergic reaction, although it’s rare, it feels like a weird psychological reaction. She will be fine, but I advise her to stay clear of those flowers." He had explained to my father. The late Mr Alderhiem was in his late fifties, with several grey hairs lining his ebony-black hair.
Dad was terrified and puzzled at the sa ti. A soft groan slipped from my lips. He glanced at with a soft smile before he replied to the doctor.
"This isn’t the first ti she had seen yellow chrysanthemums. She used to love them. Why did she suddenly get allergic?" he had asked the father, obviously confused. I was young, but in my dazed state, I half understood what he ant.
I loved those flowers and was the one who suggested taking them to the cetery. Dad was glad I also loved them. He always smiled at my choice.
The doctor was surprised, he sighed dramatically. "These things are spontaneous, maybe we would run a test to determine the answers, but sothing happened recently that might trigger this. The answer could also be psychological."
Dad was lost in his thoughts. This blurry image and the doctor against the bright background were hard to focus on. Dad’s breath hitched like he just realised sothing.
His voice was shaken as he said. "I told her recently it was her mother’s favourite. But it makes no sense." He said, sounding troubled and in pain.
"As I said earlier these things are random. Are you sure she wasn’t originally allergic to it but hid the symptoms? It might have been a mild reaction you didn’t notice..." The rest of the conversation faded as I fell asleep again. My breath was heavy like sothing was clogging my throat.
I never figured out what the answer was, but after that day, whenever I ca in direct contact with those flowers, it never ended well. Dad had to go extra to make sure I never ca in contact with them. He had inford the school of my condition but I always hated myself
The vibrant yellow petals always drew in, but I couldn’t touch them. There was this suffocating feeling in my chest knowing I hated my mother’s favourite flowers. It was like sothing was breaking what little connection we had ...
******
A muffled groan slipped from my lips. My entire body ached like it was being stabbed by several pins from all over. I was still alive. An allergic reaction didn’t kill
My eyes fluttered open and shut back again, blinded by the bright lights illuminating the room. After closing them I struggled to open them again after adjusting to the lighting. A frown remained on my face etched between my brows. The soft beeping sounds and rough breath from the ventilator made realise I was in a hospital.
How did I get here? My frown deepened at the thought because I honestly thought I was going to die. Raphael didn’t believe my allergic reaction. My heart squeezed bitterly. I didn’t know whether it was him not believing my allergies or allowing Alia to plant flowers I hated in the garden he knew I loved so much, which hurts more.
My eyes travelled around the silent room, and the curtains fluttered, letting in light from outside. It was already day and I could hear faint scruffling sounds from outside the door.
My eyes fell on a corner of the room and my breath stopped. Shock and pleasant surprise, I couldn’t help but gasp as my eyes shot wide.
Lucien....
Was he the one who brought here? How did he get inside my room? I wanted to reach out to him. A heavy weight pressing against made it hard but I couldn’t look away.
He was asleep seated next to my bed. His breathing was shallow and silent. His face had a frown etched on it as he slept, but he still looked peaceful in his face. It was the first ti I was seeing him with such a peaceful expression; there wasn’t any smirk or mischievous grin, and my stomach fluttered.
He was gorgeous with so of his hair scattered on his face. The rest dishevelled like his appearance. I wanted to say sothing but only a rough cough escaped my lips.
Lucien frowned in his sleep hearing my coughing sothing. I kind of noticed the dark circles under his eyes then. His eyes softly opened, his head turned towards and our gaze ant.
For a mont, not even a single sound was made, we just stared at each other until he broke the silence first, rushing from the seat to pull into a hug. It was a tight bear hug, his voice was husky and a bit alluring deep since he had just woken up.
"Thank God you are awake." He said drawing a deep breath before adding. "Don’t scare like that again." I froze, squeezed in his arms, before I patted his back softly.
"I can’t breathe.." I managed to say. His shoulders stiffened before he broke the hug. A serious, concerned expression remained on his face.
A soft laugh slipped. I could not help myself find it funny how worried he looks. "I didn’t know you believed in God." I teased him. He smiled at my words.
Lucian hissed trying to flex his stiff body. "I had to cling to sothing. I was scared you would relapse into a coma." He hissed. I frown at his words, struggling to sit up..
My body felt sore, and he complained that I should not move too much while he helped sit up. His hold was gentle as he held my hand
I sighed, my voice calm as I asked him. "How long was I out?" I was curious since he ntioned a coma. I couldn’t have been out for a long period of days.
He went silent for a second, his grip tightened on my hand. "A couple of days...it felt endless, but I am fine, you are awake, and this isn’t a dream because ..." He paused..
"I would rather not think about it."
His reply left dumbfounded.
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