Chapter 52: Mine
Chapter 52: Mine
"Why?" Zaliver asked, reaching into his wallet. My eyes widened as he peeled out a thick wad of cash.Oh. My. Goddess.
"Because I want those fruit snacks... and those barbecue chips... and a Sprite. And that Snickers bar. Oh! And a sandwich, but they don’t have any, so that granola bar will do. Hey, do you have five bucks?" I looked up at him with what I hoped was my most innocent, doe-eyed expression.
He glanced between me, the vending machine, and the money in his hand. With a deep, dramatic sigh that I definitely didn’t take seriously, he pulled out another bill.
"How about this," he said slowly, like he was trying to reason with a very small and greedy child. "Pick one thing for now, and if the doctor gives the green light, I’ll get you all the junk food your little heart desires later."
More candy later? That sounded like a win.
I didn’t even hesitate. I snatched the dollar from his hand before he could change his mind and punched in the code for the fruit snacks. Victory.
Tearing open the bag, I popped one into my mouth, chewing with satisfaction... until I paused. My brows pulled together. Something felt... off. I stared at the bag, then shifted my gaze to Zaliver, who was looking at me like I’d just grown an extra head.
"You want some?" I asked, trying to sound nonchalant. Please say no.
Instead of answering, he stepped toward me and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his chest like I was some priceless treasure. I blinked, arms frozen in front of me, still clutching the snack bag awkwardly.
He leaned back against the wall beside the vending machine and nuzzled his face into my hair and neck, breathing me in like I was the sweetest thing in the room not the fruit snacks.
The warmth of him was soothing. It chased away the sterile chill of the hospital air. My eyelids fluttered a bit. He smelled so good, like pine and spice and something dark and addictive. I could’ve melted into him right then and there... if I hadn’t been too focused on the chewy candy in my mouth.
