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From outside the white sterile room where he would be staying for the next two weeks, as the doctor had indicated, Chipp yawned for the fourth time since waking up from his nap. “Boringggg,” he sighed to himself, stranded on the hospital bed he was growing increasingly frustrated… the wound wasn’t even that serious! He walked away with much worse bruises, but these doctors insisted on caution.
“This is so boring.”
As he shifted his position, trying to find a more comfortable spot on that hard mattress, he craned his neck, the sound of hurried footsteps echoing in the corridor outside catching his attention. The footsteps were getting louder, perhaps it was one of the nursers who would finally bringing him some food, his stomach was rumbling.
In a fury, the door swung open, and a gust of wind nearly knocked off most of the medical equipment. The sound was so loud that Chipp's soul nearly jumped out of his skin, even though his ribs protested in pain. Squinting, he quickly recognised who was standing before him, that being none other than you. He groaned in pain, slumping back under the hospital covers, bracing himself for an endless scolding.
You stood in the doorway like a raging storm, menacingly approaching. Chipp’s eyes widened at the sight of you. With your arms crossed and a frown so deep it could cut glass, your presence was so intense it made the sterile room feel three degrees hotter, so much so that he was starting to sweat.
“What a warm welcome, h-hey,” Chipp blurted, raising both hands like a caught criminal . “I didn’t even do anything this time!”
At this point you were practically fuming.
"A little bird kindly told me everything you've been doing here instead of resting like the doctor told you a million times"
“She said I couldn’t stretch, that’s all!” he barked, as if that justified everything. “I was just trying to keep the blood flowing!”
“You’re injured BADLY, dumbass!”
“It’s just a scratch!” he protested, pointing at his bandaged side. “I’ve had worse!”
Yep, you weren’t buying it. The doctors had already shown you the scans of his cracked ribs and deep cuts. Sure, they were healing fast, but he still had to wait. You stood beside the bed, arms crossed, glaring at him as he sulked into the pillow like a grey cat being told it couldn't climb the curtains by its owner.
“You’ve been here for just one day and somehow, you’ve managed to upset almost half the staff. You can't try to exit the building through the window!”
“Mmfgh” he grumbled into the pillow, stubbornly refusing to make eye contact with you.
You stared at him, expression unchanging.
He blinked, peeking at you from the cocoon of the blanket.
You still didn’t budge.
“...I’ll shut up now” he whispered, retreating again under the cover.
── .✦
It all started exactly yesterday morning when Chipp called you out to show off a new trick he insisted he had worked hard to master, and you were to be the first to witness it.
He looked proud, overly proud , when you crossed the steps to your shared garden. He greeted you with enthusiasm, as he was already stretching like a madman on top of the stone wall.
“Alright, alright, check this out,” he said, grin stretched ear to ear, that familiar spark his eyes when he was about to do something reckless. “This,” he gestured enthusiastically “You’ll be the first to see it. You could help me think of a name, just look, alright?”
You opened your mouth to respond , but before you could say a word, he took off. A blur of movement, faster than you expected. Amazed by his abilities, you clapped. A twist, a jump, and then…
thud.
A sickening, bone-jarring thud echoed as Chipp did not stick the landing. One second, he was midair, in the next he was tumbling over the stone wall, hitting the ground like a sack of potatoes. You stopped clapping, initially thinking it was just part of the act, yet he was not resurfacing from behind the wall. You had called out his name, heart plummeting, already running toward him.
Now, a day later, he sat sulking like a kicked puppy under bright, eye-straining fluorescent lights.
── .✦
From beneath the covers he huffed "I did look cool though"
"Yeah, like a baby chicken trying a skateboard for the first time"
That comment made him poke his entire head out from the covers, silently judging you.
Then, your voice softened, almost turning into a whisper.
“…But… I guess I am glad to see you're still all in one place and that you're getting better. That was the worst scare of my life...”
You tried not to soften immediately, but it was hard, especially with how his ears were going pink and his gaze kept flickering between you and the ceiling. For once, he looked small, curled up in that hospital bed with more bandages than he should have ever had in the first place.
Deep down, it scared you. Not because you thought Chipp wasn’t a good fighter, but you knew better than anyone how fast, how sharp, how greatly skilled he was. No, what scared you was the way he kept pushing himself, despite how many times you kept reminding him to slow down. Over and over, past his own limits, as if he didn’t care if he burned out, so long as he shone a little brighter just once more.
“And I knew what it would be like… getting attached to you” You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “But it still makes me anxious, scared, to-”
Soon, you abruptly stopped, and what began as sniffles turned into sobs
"I get it that you're more than passionate about you showing off your skills to me, but-"
Your voice cracked, the words tangled somewhere between anger and fear, between love and helplessness.
"Will…will you promise to be careful?"
Without wasting any time, Chipp sprinted from the bed, despite still recovering, and embraced you. "You have every right to feel this way,"
A quiet moment passed between the two of you, broken by Chipp's grumble about his sore muscles. “I can’t promise I won’t screw up again, you know,” he admitted “But I promise, on my oath, I won’t overdo it. Not like today. Not again.”
You stood there in silence, your forehead resting against his collarbone as you steadied your breath and inhaled the sterile, soapy scent that permeated the air of the hospital. . The occasional tremor still shook your shoulders as he held you tighter. His fingers gently wove through your hair as he caressed the crown of your head, a tender touch that made the world outside your embrace feel a little less overwhelming.
A minute passed.
Then another.
And then…
"OWW"
“…ow?”
Chip let out a deep, painful groan as he buried his face into your shoulder, swear words were muffled, brows knitted, and his mouth shaped in a pout.
"Everything hurts. Damn, I've probably pulled a muscle... or two... maybe three?"
You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, your eyes narrowing in disbelief as frustration and fear surged withing you. You held back slapping his cheek, yet again.
“Then why did you sprint!? You’ll get worse!” you exclaimed, struggling to understand his reckless act.
You stood there in silence, your forehead resting against his collarbone as you steadied your breath and inhaled the sterile, soapy scent that permeated the air of the hospital. The occasional tremor still shook your shoulders as he held you tighter. His fingers gently wove through your hair as he caressed the crown of your head, a tender touch that made the world outside your embrace feel a little less overwhelming.
“Because you were crying!” Chipp whined dramatically, hands holding her shoulders “What was I gonna do, walk dramatically and let you cry and flood the entire room??”
…
…
…
"Say, uhmm, wanna grab something to eat? My treat"