My first full length original story! I hope that you all enjoy!

Summary: Nick and Marie had an unforgettable romance. However, they separated after one summer together. Six years later, Marie falls into a coma and Nick will do anything to get her back. Was it just a summer fling, or so much more?


Preface

"Do no try to get the jar off my head, because it hurts when you pull. Please simply sit next to me, and hold my hand, and the jar will soon come off itself." - Winnie The Pooh


He quickly jumped out of his car, not bothering to lock it behind him as he ran towards the hospital doors. He made it to the secretary's desk in no time, but it still felt much too slow for him. He practically yelled her name out, stunning and frightening the secretary. She typed in the name on her computer faster than a Cheetah runs to catch their prey.

She told the poor man the room number. Before she had a chance to say anything else, he was already dashing up the stairs, not even thinking about taking the elevator, which would have taken up too much of his time.

He ran up the four flights of stairs without stopping once. The doctors and nurses moved out of his way, most of them telling him to slow down or he would hurt somebody. He paid no attention to any of them. He just kept running.

He made it to the fourth floor in approximately one minute and nine seconds. He looked at the directory to tell him which way the room numbers went. It told him that room 422 was to the left. He looked towards the left to see many doctors walking with notes in their hands, and nurses pushing carts with copious amounts of medicines on them.

The atmosphere was sickly, and he almost felt as if death was a strong shield keeping him from that room.

Keeping him from her.

He had to walk slower on this floor, or he would surely bump into people and miss the room number. He was already breathing heavily, unable to think properly from the lack of oxygen and water. His cheeks were flushed and they looked red, as if he had just came home from the gym or a jog on a hot summer day, and he was sweating as if it were 100 degrees outside.

He walked swiftly through the hallway to the room, 416, no, not that one. 418, 420, and finally, 422. Nobody paid that much attention to him. He was surrounded by people who came running up the stairs to check on their loved ones, to make sure they were okay. To hold their hand and cry, pleading for them to get better.

As soon as he saw the girl's family and friends in a circle around her, he started to think that he made a mistake by coming. He was probably no longer welcomed. No more open arms for him. Quietly, he opened the door and closed it behind him, trying not to draw too much attention to himself. But his action, of course, did not go unnoticed.

Looking around, he saw her parents sitting next to each other by the windowsill. The mother's face was stained with tears. The father's face was in his hands. Her older brother was looking at the floor, trying to keep his tears at bay, not wanting to show weakness. Not for himself, but for the sake of his family.

She had her four closest girlfriends sitting on various chairs around her. He remembered them all with surprising accuracy, from the way she used to talk about them, and from the pictures she had of them.

She also had two male friends sitting by her bedside. He took time to glare subtly at one of the guys. Nobody was talking; no whispering, nothing. Everyone was just silent, waiting for some sort of miracle to happen. There were flowers all around the room, mostly by the window. There was also a balloon, and some cards on the table.

As soon as he walked through the door the mother looked up at him. He froze immediately. The look she gave him was not mean or rude, but rather confused. Before he realized what had happened, he felt tears brim around his eyes, threatening to fall down his cheeks, which eventually they did. He wiped them away quickly as he walked slowly over to the bed.

He kneeled down slowly and took her hand in his. He missed the feeling. Now all eyes were on him, except hers; the coma kept them closed. But he didn't seem to care.

He just kept holding her hand.


I PROMISE THAT THIS STORY IS NOT AS DEPRESSING AS IT SOUNDS.

Everything makes a little more sense after chapter 1.

Thanks for reading!

If you have any questions, feel free to ask!

- Morine