The Beauty and the Inked

Twenty-seven: Eyes Open

Oh god. I'm not imagining things, do I? I heard it. It was as clear as the machines' beeping inside this room. My eyes darted to Dad, his eyes were still closed but he was moving a little, oh my god.

“Dad!" I sunk back to the chair, "Dad? Dad, can you hear me?" I asked with my voice trembling with the excitement and happiness.

His head moved a little, "Swee..." there! I wasn't just imagining things! He's awake.

Tears were making my sight blurry but I did what I knew was best. I ran to the nurses' station. I stride with more effort to reach the station faster. A worried expression was on Logan's face as I approached, "Calm down," he said. He was on his feet the moment I stopped in front of them.

I lean on the white desk, "My Dad," I said as I dragged air into my lungs, "My Dad," I said again, unable to form a coherent sentence due to what is happening.

"Yssa, you have to breathe. Tell me what's happening," before he even finished his sentence he nodded to a nurse to go see my Dad. His hands ran up and down my back, black orbs swimming with concern.

"He's awake," the words came out breathless, "My dad's awake," I gushed, "Logan, he's awake!"

The worry on his expression swiftly turn into an amused one, "Let me call your mum, that's great news!"

Everything happened in a blur, after he called my mum we made our way to my Dad's room, hand in hand. His thumb drawing small reassuring circles on my knuckles.

"I'm nervous," I said. I stopped walking, refraining Logan to go forward, too, "I- I'm too nervous to go inside," I said. My eyes scanned the deserted corridor of the hospital, everything looked so white. It makes me feel nauseous. I could feel the steady beating of my heart in my chest, "What if I was just too overwhelmed that I thought he woke up?" my eyes met Logan's understanding gaze.

A small smile spread through his lips, "He's awake, Yssa. Talk to him."

But the doubt in me was still lingering even after I heard his reassurance.

"Don't worry," he ran his thumb to my cheeks.

I'm suddenly aware that I'm missing Zack more than ever. If only he's here .

I nod in apprehension to Logan's words and continued to walk again. My heels click-clacking on the tiles making my stomach stir more wildly. I could never explain how nervous I am. I held Logan's hand tighter than I intended to, because I felt like I need to. I need something to hold on just in case this situation is just a dream of mine.

But I wasn't dreaming, I wasn't just making these scenarios in my mind. Dr. Conrad was talking to my dad, taking a look at him.

"Can you lift a little higher?" the doctor asked, and my Dad complied.

He lift his foot but unable to do so, "Okay that's good," he said to encourage my dad, "But can you do a little higher?" Dr. Conrad asked, my dad complied again.

The worries were gone and all that I can feel is the steady rhythm of my pounding heart. I have been asking this for too long, and to be honest, I have never see this coming. As the doctor continued to talk to him, I have noticed that his words were a little muffled, but still, I'm thankful that he's awake.

The word feels a little magical, awake. Yes, my dad's finally awake.

Suddenly I can hear everything: the beeping of the machines, the tick-tock sound of the the clock, even the stealthy movements of the nurses around my dad. It feels like my senses were much awake.

"Ms. Pasco?" Dr. Conrad took my attention, "Can we talk for a while?" I just nod and followed him out of the room.

My head was swimming with confused happiness and forgotten worries. The feeling was inexplainable yet certainly exquisite.

"I believe that your presence made his recovery faster than we ever thought," he said. His face was still impassive, wearing a doctor's mask. They're good with this, being able to not affect the patients and the families of the patients with their own feelings, "There are no complications, physically. We'll just run some test on him the day after tomorrow if he will not fall into sleep again, let’s just hope he gets better."

"Okay," I answered with a nod, "Is there any chance that he will be in coma again?" I wrapped my arms around me, mentally scolding myself for not bringing any cardigan.

"That is unpredictable," he answered, "Just keep him awake," he then smiled.

"Sweety!" my mum's voice echoed in the halls, she was running towards me.

"You should go and see him," with that, Dr. Conrad left.

"Mom!" I threw my hands around her and she did the same, I felt a little awkward but ignored it, "He's awake, Mommy," I felt like I really needed a hug right now.

When I pulled away she was emotional, "Why are you crying?"

"Nothing," she wiped the tears that had fallen on her cheek which left a wet streak, "I'm just glad that you're dad is awake..." she trailed off, I can see that she was really happy. But there was something behind her eyes, something that she's not telling me.

I arched an eyebrow, pushing her to tell me what she was holding back.

She smiled shyly before speaking, "You have just embraced me... voluntarily," with her words, my heart melt.

I chewed the inside of my cheeks to keep my emotions at bay, don't cry, I told myself. Don't cry. But I've been nothing to her but an errant child since I got here, and I felt the pang of guilt spread inside me.

"Mom," I buried my face on the crook of her neck, "I'm so sorry," I sobbed as I embraced her again, tighter this time. The madness that I felt over the years disappeared as I felt her warmth. I never knew until now that I had missed to be this close to my mum.

Her hand tightened around me, "Oh, I missed you so much, sweety," she hummed.

I was sorry for being near to her but so distant, I was so selfish and all I ever cared about was how to hate her, to despise her, for her to hate me too and all. What gutted me more is that she doesn't forgive me, because she doesn't need to. She understood me even at my most irrational decision.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, mommy," I cried.

"It's okay, it's okay," she cooed as she ran her fingers through my hair, "It's okay, baby," she said again.

"Err- he's asking for his girls," Logan said, a little embarrassed for ruining our little dramatic moment. He was standing by the door, a glint of gladness in his blue orbs.

My mom pulled away and tucked the lose strands of my hair behind my ears, "Let's go inside," she said as she took my hand.

There is no word that could describe the situation. My dad's awake, a small smile playing on his lips. It is a wonderful sight to see. His golden brown eyes met my mother's.

"Hey," my mom greeted. She sat at the edge of the bed while I stood at the doorway, back pressed to the wood.

"Hi," my dad croaked.

"How're you feeling?" she grasped his hand between hers.

"More than good, you?"

"Grand," she answered.

Eight years. Eight freaking years that I have wasted away from them. What was I thinking? Why did I let my selfishness ruined my family? How come did I last long without seeing them? My heart plummeted in my chest, this is just too much to witness. The great joy that I've been feeling overwhelmed me, but nonetheless it can't stop the blissfulness within me.

I don't want to disturb them, afraid that I will burst their bubble and ruin the moment. Just looking at them satisfies me, all my guilt surfaces but doesn't affect me enough to not notice the love between my parents. They both looked at my direction, and my eyes warily flicked between theirs.

"Darling, come here," my mom stretched her arm towards me. Asking me to join them.

I had managed to take in a shaky deep breath. My slow pace prolonging the agony that I feel, I ache to feel their embrace. With my shaking limbs, I stride towards them.

"It's okay, sweetie," my dad spoke. And that's all it takes. My pace doubled, no- tripled.

"Daddy," I started crying again. My face ducked, wanting be as close to my dad as possible. I don't care if I cried loud enough to disturb the other rooms, I don't care if I look like a mess, all I care is that my Dad's finally awake. He's awake!

I want to say how sorry I am, how incredibly stupid and profoundly dumb of me to leave them. But I can't- I can't risk to say anything that might ruin our reconciliation.

"Shhh, it's okay, it's okay," my mother said, like she had heard the thoughts that are running in my mind.

. . . .

The room was silent. It was an hour or so after I had stopped crying. The three of us weren't speaking, but I felt like the silence made sense. Once in a while we smile, as if we read each other's minds. We exchange a few glances, eyes communicating of what our heart wants to say.

I could stay here forever, I don't want this moment to end. I would trade everything that I have for this moment to last forever. The felicity that blankets the three of us makes everything more light and cherished.

Everything was tranquil until my phone went off.

"You should take that, darling," my mum said. She was still sitting at the edge of the bed, while I sat on the chair beside them.

I fish my phone out of my bag and was surprised to see Zack's name flashing on the screen. I excused myself and stepped out of the room before answering his call.

"Zack," I said as steady as I can. My heart leaps in anticipation.

"Oooohhh," he slurred, "Hi, baby," I heard shuffling from the background. I was waiting to hear any music but there was none. I guess he's at home, drowning himself with all the whiskey he has.

"Are you drunk?" I asked the obvious, what a stupid move.

"A little," he said with a playful tone.

"Why?" My voice was laced with concern. I can't lie to myself. Yes, I'm still on edge with this crappy 'relationship'- if you call it- with Zack, but I still can't deny that I'm pretty much frustrated with the fact that I'm powerless when it comes to things like this. With Zack I lose all my senses and all I do is to surrender.

Instead of answering my question he continued with his blasted talk, "I miss you, baby," he cooed, "Don't you miss me?"

I chose not to answer his query. If only he knew how I was barely containing myself, fighting the urge to call him. Missing him is an understatement, it pains me to feel his absence. I'm aching to see him, his eyes, his lips, his smile- all of him. And with each day that pass, the pain that I feel in my chest worsen. He don't know what he's talking about. I'm longing for him. Sober or not.

"I'll take that as a yes," he cockily remarked. Oh I'm dealing with an audacious Zack.

"Hey, Yssa!" I whipped my head towards the source of the masculine voice. Logan's blue orbs locked with mine, "I see you're ready for our dinner!" I had easily caught the humor in his words, but Zack wouldn't. Oh no. With the way his smile play on his lips, I know that he's oblivious for the trouble he's making. Dinner? Damn. I already forget about our dinner.

My palm made contact with my forehead, ugh s**t.

"Do you like him, Yssa?" I can still remember the night Zack got jealous for no apparent reason. He was so upset and almost mad.

I waited for Zack to speak, surely he had heard Logan. My mouth went dry.

"Hey, is everything alright?" Logan asked. He should really stop talking. But I can't tell him. Oh hey, shut up Logan. I'm talking to Zack. That's not gonna happen. First of all, Logan is too nice so he doesn't deserve to be treated that way, and second, it was just another stupid idea of mine.

"Tell him to leave," I was taken aback with Zack's stern and solid voice. I was pretty sure- no, absolutely sure that he was more than tiddly a while ago. And now it's like he had sobered up.

"What?" much to my surprise, I sounded like I was annoyed.

"Tell him to leave," he emphasized the last word. I wouldn't do that. This is Logan we're talking about- the nicest person I've ever come across with.

"Fine," Zack said, as if hearing my silent refusal, "Then I'll come and get you," the line went dead. It was more of a warning than a statement, to be honest. My heart seemed to double its' beat. What now? Was he serious? What should I do?

I don't want a stumbling and blasted Zack Martin to come here and drag me away. That wouldn't make a good first impression to my just woken up dad.

"Hey, I'm sorry," I almost forgot that Logan was still standing beside me. His apology made my head swirl with more worries. You just opened the gates to jealous land, where I do not want Zack to be in. Great.

"No, it's fine, Logan, it's just Zack. I can handle him," I gave him a weary smile, because that's all that I can give. I feel bad for him, for receiving this cold attention from me, but I just can't shrug off the thought that a drunken Zack is about to come here and maybe, just maybe, to make a scene.

"I'm sorry. I was just kidding about the dinner-"

"Really, it's fine, Logan," I reassured him, "And about the dinner, let's just do it some other time

My dad’s awake, I just want to spend time with him. If it’s okay?”

"Okay, cool."

. . . .

My mom and I had decided that she would stay with my dad and I will just get back tomorrow morning. After I bid my good night and gave them my goodbye kiss I was already out of the hospital.

Exactly twenty-three minutes after my venturesome phone call with Zack I was already pacing back and forth at the front of the hospital. If he was serious about coming to get me, he should be here any minute by now.

But thirty minutes of still pacing like a lunatic waiting for the rain of fire, I had realized that there will be no Zack that will show up. I can't stop myself to feel disappointed. Why do I believe everything he says? By now I should've learned my lesson. At least have some reserved nous, Yssabelle. Yeah. As if that's pretty damn easy to do.

So what now? Where's Zack? He just gave me another reason to doubt him, another reason to stir away from him.