If luxury ever had a scent, this hospital suite would bottle it and sell out before sunrise. The view alone looked like sothing off a real estate ad—skyscrapers glinting beyond the spotless windows, distant clouds curated for aesthetic. The only things missing were the spa playlist and a mimosa cart.
I should’ve felt grateful. Technically, I was recovering. Physically, I’d healed. Emotionally... not so much. The real chaos was waiting outside those doors.
The door swung open for the hundredth ti that morning—and this ti, it wasn’t a nurse with another clipboard.
It was them.
"Is this a hospital room or a damn red carpet?" I muttered, blinking as my entire entourage filed in like they were attending a royal send-off.
Aria was the first to burst in—grinning wildly and looking like she’d mugged a fashion-forward magician. Fur vest, tinted glasses, and a high-pitched greeting that echoed off the sterile walls.
"Queen of Near-Death! Ready for your soft-launch into society?"
"Soft-launch?" I deadpanned. "I didn’t die."
"Not yet," she winked. "But the drama lives."
Leo swaggered in next, his uni hoodie slouching just enough to scream ’reluctant cool kid’ while balancing a comically large teddy bear that was twice his size, nearly knocking over the IV stand in the process.
"Oops." He winced. "That wasn’t... attached to anything vital, right?"
Then father strolled in with that calm, worn-out-dad expression he always had when he was one second away from telling Leo to sit down and shut up. He is clutching a fruit basket that could feed a village.
Behind him ca Adrien, cool and composed as always in a black shirt and those sharp shoes that probably cost more than our rent growing up. Right beside him, Caron strolled in holding... a pink balloon with "YOU SURVIVED!" scrawled on it in glitter pen.
"You stole that from pediatrics, didn’t you?" Aria said.
"I bartered," Caron said with mock solemnity. "The nurse got my pudding cup. I got the balloon. Everyone wins."
My gaze swept over them, a collection of familiar faces and even more familiar chaos. My family. My chosen family. The people who were probably already planning my ’welco back to the land of the living’ party, complete with embarrassing photos and a cake shaped like whatever bizarre thing nearly put here.
"You know," I said, a weak smile playing on my lips, "I was just starting to enjoy the quiet solitude of being pampered like a forgotten royal. You guys are ruining my aesthetic."
Aria dramatically fanned herself with an imaginary fan. "Darling, your aesthetic is ’dramatic coback queen.’ And we are your loyal, loud subjects here to ensure maximum impact." She then pounced on the plush armchair beside my bed, nearly knocking over a vase of fresh lilies. "Honestly, this room is wasted on you. I could throw a better party in here than the hospital did."
"No parties," my father interjected, placing the monstrous fruit basket on the pristine white table with a thud that made a few grapes bounce. He shot Leo a look that clearly communicated, Don’t even think about it. "She needs rest."
Leo, still wrestling with the giant teddy bear, finally managed to prop it up against my bed. Its ridiculously large head slouched to one side, its button eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. "It’s for emotional support," he mumbled, sounding more like he needed the support himself. "Don’t judge its existential angst."
Caron, anwhile, was ticulously inspecting the "YOU SURVIVED!" balloon, as if searching for a hidden ssage. "It’s got good glitter adhesion, though. Top-tier bartering, if I do say so myself." He then turned to , his usual mischievous grin softening around the edges. "But seriously, glad you’re not, you know... not survived."
"Appreciate the eloquent sentint, Mr─uh─Cam," I chuckled and coughed, pushing myself up a little higher against the pillows.
"So..." I started slowly. "Is there a plan here or are you all just here to witness struggle into a pair of pants?"
Aria grinned. "Obviously both."
"Absolutely not," Adrien said at the sa ti, shooting a look at Leo who was halfway through pulling out his phone.
"What?" Leo defended. "I wasn’t gonna record it, I was gonna help. You people are so negative."
Dad rubbed a hand over his face. "Lord, give strength."
Adrien took a deep breath like he was reciting an internal mantra. "You should rest another day."
I stared at him. "You literally signed the discharge forms."
"I can unsign them."
"Pretty sure that’s not how dical docuntation works," Caron said, adjusting his wristwatch. "Though I admire the dedication to dical malpractice."
Aria leaned over, stage-whispering to . "Your boyfriend has gone full dramatic husband mode. He was about to threaten the nurse yesterday because your pain dication was five minutes late." Aria finished, her eyes wide with theatrical horror. "Five minutes! He was calmly explaining the logistical failings of the entire hospital floor to a terrified nursing student nad Brenda. I think she quit."
Adrien, who had apparently been listening with superhuman hearing, didn’t even flinch. He just gave Aria a cool, level stare over my head. "Patient care requires precision," he stated, as if discussing a quarterly earnings report. "Punctuality is a cornerstone of effective treatnt."
Leo nodded solemnly. "Honestly, I support him."
Dad finally raised a hand. "Alright, alright. Enough. Isabella, are you ready to go ho, sweetheart?"
I smiled, eyes drifting across the chaos that had barged in like a storm—and stayed, and stayed, and stayed.
"Ready as I’ll ever be." I swung my legs over the side of the bed, standing easily. My body might’ve lost the fight to gravity so days ago, but today? I felt borderline normal.
"Where’s my bag?" I asked, glancing around.
Imdiately, Adrien and Dad both reached for it.
"I’ve got it," Dad said, hand already gripping one handle. "You’ve done enough."
Adrien, not even looking at him, took the other handle with the ease of a man who wasn’t used to being denied anything. "It’s fine. I’ll carry it."
They both froze, tension radiating in waves, the bag suspended between them like it was Excalibur.
"I’ve got it," Adrien said, polite but firm.
"I said I’ve got it first," Dad replied, narrowing his eyes.
"It’s not a matter of speed. It’s about responsibility."
"She’s my daughter."
"She’s my girlfriend."
"Oh my God," I muttered.
Caron looked vaguely entertained in the corner. Aria was holding in laughter, her shoulders shaking like a faulty engine. Leo just blinked, then groaned dramatically.
"Its fine," Adrien said smoothly. "I insist."
"I’m her father," Dad replied. "I’ve carried heavier."
"You shouldn’t strain your back."
"I shouldn’t—" Dad blinked. "What’s your profession again?"
Adrien raised an eyebrow, a smirk creeping onto his lips. "Let’s just say, lifting burdens is a part of my job. Wouldn’t want to be the one to let her down."
My father’s expression shifted to a mix of irritation and begrudging respect, but before he could retort, I opened my mouth to speak, but Leo beat to it.
"Okay, you know what?" Leo said, stepping between them like the self-appointed UN of the Walton-Miller household. "Fine. I’ll carry it. I am strong. I am capable. I am available."
Both n looked at him. Then at each other.
And at the sa exact ti—they let go.
The weight of the bag yanked Leo’s arm down like gravity had a grudge.
"OH MY GOD," he yelped. "What is in this thing, bricks and trauma?!"
"I packed snacks," Aria said cheerfully.
"And maybe the humidifier," Caron added. "Not sure."
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