(Alright! Let me know if you want to take control of any doctors or anything! I'm just kinda using generic characters. ) "Well, don't you worry. We can get that fixed." he said, stepping away from the machine. "In the meantime, Evan can show you to your rooms. You guys have been through quite an ordeal."
"At least we don't have to sleep forty feet above ground now," Francis joked, rubbing the back of his neck to soothe any small pains.
Poppy grinned playfully at him. "No, you're right," she said. "We get to sleep thousands of feet above the ground now! What an upgrade!" (I might make a map of their world. Is that okay with you?)
"You seem to underestimate my ladder making capabilities," she teased. "I accept your challenge." Evan cleared his throat. "Here, I'll show you guys to your rooms."
He took them out of the infirmary, his footsteps loud against the metal floor. "Poppy, you have room 6," he said, pushing open a door that leads down a hallway. "Francis, you're in room 8. They each have bathrooms attached."
"Ah. Thanks. I'm sure you two have a lot to catch up on," he said, mostly to annoy Poppy, then walked down the hallway to his room with a nod.
(Heck, I'm laughing so hard right now.) Poppy whipped her head around in alarm as he walked away. She glared at his retreating back, mentally scheduling a punch for the next time she saw him. Ass. "Well, I better go in and get settled in," Poppy said to Evan, pointing at her door. "I haven't slept in an actual room for a while." "Poppy," he said, his arms crossed. "We need to talk." "Or," Poppy said, raising a finger. "Or, we could not talk, and just never discuss anything ever again." "Poppy." She sighed and tapped her foot. "Fine. What do you want to talk about?" He rubbed the back of his neck. Having fought to get to this point, he seemed a little uncomfortable. "I don't like how we left things. And all that time that you were stuck in those woods, I was really worried about you. I mean, I thought you were dead for a couple of days, for Christ's sake." He took a deep breath, and said his next sentence with his exhalation. "I think we should give 'us' another shot." Poppy squinted up at him. She had expected a sentiment of this sort, but she still didn't like it. "Evan, I'm sorry, but I don't think that's going to work out." He frowned, looking irritated. "Is it because of that Francis guy?" "What? No, of course not. It has nothing to do with him. I just..." She pushed her hair off her forehead, grasping for the right words. "Even before the whole proposal thing, it didn't feel right. There's a reason that I didn't want to get married, and I think we're just... not good for each other. I'm sorry." He looked at her without speaking, his expression hard to read. Poppy reached for the handle behind her, entered her room, and closed the door behind her, exhaling a huge breath that she didn't know she had inhaled.
Once Francis had gone inside his room, he snickered. He sat on the bed, then began fidgeting with his watch. "Hrm. Stupid thing," he thought to himself. He was absolutely terrible at technical devices. "Heh. That Francis guy."
Poppy crossed the room to lie on the bed, her hair splayed out as she looked up at the ceiling. She sat there for a moment as the hovercraft sailed through the air before pushing herself up, and going to take a shower. A knock on Francis' door echoed through his room. "Mr. Craw?" came a voice. "I've got your medication."
He gave up on the watch, and got up, opening the door. "Oh, good. Hopefully there aren't any side effects?"
The boy at the door hesitated. "Well," he said, stretching out the word. "You have different medications for morning and night. The morning one is fine, but the night one may make you a bit loopy." (Ha!)
"You've best be joking," he grumbled, then perked up at a realization. "Ah! At least I have a room of my own, now. I assume I should take the morning one now?"
"Yes sir," he responded. "Well, you'll normally be taking two of each every morning and night, but since we're a little late, you should just take one for now. Take it with water, obviously, and waiting 30 minutes after until eating." He checked his watch. "We have about an hour before lunch, so you should be good if you take it now."
The boy frowned. "Uh, no. I didn't think about that. There should be a glass in your bathroom, though, if I remember correctly."
Francis took the medication with a nod. "Alright, thanks. I know what to do. Have a nice day." He shut the door without another word, and went to the bathroom door.
The glass was on the sink, as the boy said it would be. The pills were small and blue, and they clinked together in their bottle. * * * Poppy came out of the shower, a towel wrapped around her hair and a fresh green blouse and jeans on. She checked her wound, wincing as she lightly tapped it. The stitches seemed to be healing alright, but they still sucked.
(I'm drawing a Francis again! This time it should look better than the first.) He filled the glass with water, then downed one of the pills, drinking right after. Once that was over with, he decided it was probably time for a shower as well.
