Axel had spent a solid week confined within the sterile, white walls of the hospital. Now, finally, he was cleared for discharge. As Jayvaughn neatly folded a sweater and tucked it into a duffel bag, Axel watched him, a quiet, contemplative mood settling over him.
His mind replayed the doctor's stern face just moments earlier. The man's instructions had been blunt: "Make absolutely sure you don't get injured again. And don't come back here. I'm tired of seeing you." Axel remembered being completely speechless.
Like how do you even respond to that? Just as the silence stretched, the door to the private ward had opened, and Jayvaughn walked in. The doctor, instantly adopting a professional, bland demeanor, simply nodded and left, acting as if he hadn't just delivered the most unprofessional, yet honest, medical advice ever.
"Babe, I'm done. Let's get out of here," Jayvaughn said, zipping the bag closed and turning with a bright, relieved smile.
