I couldn't really do much but give out bursts of hysterical laughter when Cira had woken up, she looked, to but it bluntly, like shit. But I'm betting by the end of the afternoon she'll be insisting she needs to get up and have a run around. When Pho and I were ill(because we always mysteriously got ill al the same time) she told us to drink lots of tea and run around.
'I'm going to go to the toilet...'
'Liar.' Cira snorted, 'go see Pho, I'm fine with this little geek for now.'
'Hey now.' Damien said in a voice that mocked one of a offended person.
'Sorry.' I mumbled, scuttling out of the room like a pitiful beetle. Ugh, this is why I hate hospitals... the hallways are like a maze, twisting and turning in a pattern that made me feel dizzy. Not to mention the whole place stank of dettol. But I'd gotten used to it now...
What with both Cira and Pho ill. As I walked down a hallways that looked strangely like the one I'd just came from, I saw a young man clad in a white coat pushing a boy in a wheelchair that looked distinctly like Pho.
'Umm, excuse me!' I called, jogging over, 'this is Pho Crockford, right?'
'Yes.' He replied, in a robotic tone. I shivered, I'd bet everything I own that the nurses and doctors here aren't actually real, but robots...
'Can I take him to his room please? I'm his twin.' I informed the robot-man, smiling gently.
'Sure. His room is down there,' he pointed towards a small cluster of rooms and I stared at them blankly.
'Um thanks,' I looked at his name tag, 'Nick.'
He nodded curtly and turned swiftly on his heel, exiting the scene quickly.
I slowly pushed Pho's wheelchair towards the rooms, looking at each one intensely, trying to recall which one Pho belonged in.
'Second one down.' A voice said, with a hint of a snicker. I looked down at Pho, he looked back up at me.
'I knew that.' I huffed, my cheeks reddening as I pushed him into a room.
'Next one, Aina. Can't you count?' Pho laughed gently.
'Oh... Jeez, I guess I can't. Maybe I should go back to grade school.'I snapped in a fake, trashy American accent , but I hoped he knew I was joking with him.
'Primary school, Aina, it's called primary school, your not American.' Pho muttered, pushing my hands away, and spinning his wheels so they were aimed in the right direction. I edged into his room nervously, as he wheeled over to his bed and stared at it, contemplating on how to get up there.
'Let me help you.' I smiled, pulled his arms around my shoulders as I lifted him onto the bed in a awkward manner.
'Thanks... Aina, um--'
'Shush, Pho. You should sleep now, you, like, got shot, tried to tear off your leg then died...then came back to life, then Cira was ill and then--'
'Your babbling, Aina.' He grinned, I blushed. Then frowned as I speculated his face. I'd never seen this smile before, it was... well... genuine.
'I'm sorry, Pho. If I'd just let it go, none of this would have happened.' I mumbled, sniffing.
'Don't cry, Aina!' Pho gasped, moving his hands about, now knowing what to do.
'Oh, your not. But, Aina, I was the one who was out of line, I should have just let you go. Your my sister. Not my lover.'
'Eugh. I hate that word... it's so... adult-y.' I shuddered, Pho smiled at me, his eyes crinkling up.
'I wont force you to do anything again, I know I've already said this, but I really wont, I swear it. But I still want to know about you, but not in a creepy way.' He added quickly, looking at me.
'I know, I know. Let's start fresh, thats the saying right?'
So we stood there, grinning at eachother like dopey idiots.