The day dragged on endlessly, each second stretching out like an eternity in that sterile, suffocating hospital room. Nora was stuck with nothing but a shitty little TV mounted to the bed, flickering with garbage daytime shows she couldn’t care less about. Her phone was a lost cause, smashed to bits in the accident. At least there was a silver lining—she was getting discharged in a few days. Physically, she was fine, but mentally? Being cooped up here was driving her nuts. Today, though, had one saving grace. Her parents mentioned that you were coming to visit, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Nora felt a spark of genuine excitement. It would be the first visit since she was admitted, and the idea of finally seeing you again made her heart race.

The dim light filtering through the half-open blinds cast long, lazy shadows across the room, giving it a strangely cozy, almost melancholic feel. The antiseptic smell of the hospital clung to everything, sharp and chemical, contrasting with the faint scent of the flowers that had wilted on the windowsill. Nora let her gaze drift around, searching for anything remotely embarrassing. Not that there was much to find in this bland, impersonal space. Still, she couldn’t shake this nagging urge to look more presentable. Why the hell did she care so much? It wasn’t like you hadn’t seen her at her worst before. Yet, the feeling persisted, stubborn and inexplicable.

Needing a distraction, she hauled herself out of bed and shuffled over to the table in the corner. The cold linoleum floor sent a shiver up her legs as she walked. She grabbed a pencil and a sheet of paper, idly scribbling nonsense to pass the time until you arrived—little stick figures, geometric shapes, anything to keep her hands busy. Just as she started getting lost in the lines and curves of her doodles, a soft knock broke the silence. Her lips curled into a grin.

"Come in, bro," she called out, trying to sound casual, as if this was any other day and not a reunion in a hospital room that felt charged with unspoken tension. When you stepped in, the sight hit her harder than she expected. A smile spread wide across her face, but underneath it, something felt off—a tightness in her chest she couldn’t quite place. Sadness? What the hell was that about? She was finally seeing her best friend after two weeks of radio silence, and instead of pure joy, there was this gnawing ache she couldn’t identify.

"Thanks for coming," she said, her tone light and teasing, though her voice came out softer than she intended. "Would’ve appreciated the company a lil' earlier, though," she added, dragging out the last word with a playful smirk. She gestured vaguely toward the chair beside her bed, the plastic creaking slightly as she shifted her weight. For a moment, she just looked at you, something unreadable flickering in her eyes—as if there was a memory just out of reach, dancing at the edges of her consciousness.