The Crestfallen

AUTHOR'S NOTE AND WARNING TO READERS: This story features no vaginal penetration, because it turns out that the female lead has a strong preference for anal sex. Overall I feel like it is a loving story, with some emotional elements.

I tried writing it in a slightly different style from my usual approach, which some might like, and others dislike. It's also the longest story I've submitted to the site thus far. Please leave me your comments at the end, and let me know if you enjoyed it, or what I need to do better next time. Thank you.

It is a work of fiction, and all of the characters in the story are above the age of eighteen.

Furthermore, all of my material is of course copyrighted.

--- THE CRESTFALLEN ---

I could hear voices coming from outside. Or were they coming from within? I couldn't tell. But there was something comforting about them. The cadence with which they spoke was familiar to me. I could tell by the tone and timbre that they were concerned, but also something else - relieved? I couldn't make out any of the words. They seemed muffled, and distant, and... And I felt as if I could almost grasp them. If only I could focus just a little harder...

"... To wake up, Christian. Can you hear me?" The voice was only mildly familiar to me, and yet it made me feel warmer. My eyelids were heavy, as if they were made of lead, or some other even denser metal. I suddenly noticed a dull ache coming from the back of my head, and my mouth felt dry. There was also an odd taste in there that I could not quite place.

I opened my eyes, slowly, and instantly knew where I was. Back in the hospital once more. The IV with the methylprednisolone - an anti-inflammatory immunosuppressive - was inserted through my arm, and the familiar sound of the electronic devices in the room and the bustling rush of an intensive care unit filled my ears. As my mind began to awaken, my eyes grew accustomed to the brightness of the room. The familiar scent of cleanliness paired with something morbid - death, perhaps? - filled my nostrils. My eyes fell on hers.

"Hey Christian. Can you hear me?" She looked right into my eyes with her own. Hers were hazel, and they seemed to have a softness to them. I noticed a faint smile on her lips, but her face couldn't completely hide her worry and perturbation. Her face was comely, but not exactly what I would have called classically beautiful. She might have been a year or two older than myself - perhaps 25 or 26 - and she had auburn hair that matched well with her irises, with bangs in the front, and worn in a ponytail. Her nostrils were small, and the shape of her face gave off a sense of intelligence. I recognized her right away.

She was holding my left hand with both of hers, delicately, and I felt her grip give me a little squeeze when my eyes met hers. The nurse scrubs she wore where slightly crinkled, the whole fabric just one solid color of cerulean blue. They didn't do her beautiful figure justice. I remembered that from my previous times here at Saint Clementine Mercy Hospital. The look of her perky little butt, soothingly swaying back and forth whenever she'd walk out of the room, had been one of the absolute highlights of my previous visits.

"Abigail." I said, weakly. "Fate just keeps bringing us together."

She gave a little chuckle, revealing her teeth. She always laughed or smiled with her teeth, unlike some women. They were cute, like little pearls - not too long, but not too short either - and each one seemed perfectly straight except one. She had what in Korea is known as 'Yaeba' - a sort of overlap of her teeth of sorts, at the upper left portion of the visible part of her mouth. It really stood out since the rest of her teeth were so straight and uniform, with that one little snaggletooth giving her smile an adorable imperfection.

"You're on the good drugs, aren't you?" She giggled. "I am sorry to see you back here so soon, though I must confess that I secretly missed you." She winked at me, and I began to try to adjust my positioning in the bed, but she objected. "No - don't try to sit up just yet. You have to take it easy." She said, and made a face, showing either sympathy or concern. Perhaps both. "You were out for a while this time."

"How long?" I said, half-stammering. My mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton.

"Almost half a day. It's nearly dinner time." She let go of my hand and began to do something with the IV that I couldn't quite make out. "Thankfully, you must have sensed it coming, because you hit the button on your alarm bracelet before you passed out. Do you remember that?"

I shook my head, still a little groggy. I did not. But it made perfect sense. I had gotten better at identifying the symptoms of my impending fainting spells, and I had trained myself to be able to quickly and accurately grab the tiny little button attached to the bracelet on my left wrist, which directly called for medical attention. It was a nifty little invention, and for the first time I found myself quite glad that I had been talked into always wearing it.

"The ambulance personnel had to break a window to get into your place, I was told." She looked at me apologetically, as if she was somehow responsible for that. "You really ought to start leaving your door unlocked, I think. Or hide a key somewhere obvious."

I gave a weak chuckle. She was right. But I'd never been a trusting man, and it had been hard for me to get used to the idea of not only leaving my apartment unlocked, but leaving a key outside in the hallway - especially when I knew how valuable my belongings were. At least to me. Perhaps a burglar would not appreciate my extensive collection of old NES games and my rather impressive book collection, but I liked to think that they would appreciate my grandfather's antique pocket watch, or the gold-adorned cutlasses I kept on the wall in the lounge area, among other things that I was very fond of and did not want to get snatched away.

"Have you been taking your medicine alright, Christian?" Abigail asked of me, as she looked at my chart. "Your blood pressure has been all over the place while you were out, and I am starting to see it rising. It's too soon for that. We don't want any more complications."

"I've followed the doctor's instructions to the letter, I assure you. But my blood pressure isn't the problem, Abigail."

She looked at me and bit her lower lip. She knew I was right, of course. I had a rare autoimmune disorder. A form of ganglionopathy that caused my own immune system to randomly lash out at my nervous system. Being lightheaded was a common side effect, as was blood pressure randomly dropping or spiking at a swift pace fairly frequently. My doctor had explained to me several times that this meant that certain of my organ's functions that were meant to work passively and automatically sometimes simply did not receive the necessary information from the brain to do so, causing malfunctions that were often serious.

This was my fifth time in the hospital this year alone, and it was still early spring. The visits to the hospital was becoming more frequent. Thankfully, although the disease was not curable, it was somewhat manageable with the help of special steroids and the immunosuppressive pills I had been given. It allowed me to live a fairly normal, albeit very cautious life. But during the four years since my diagnosis, things seemed to be getting worse. Or perhaps I was simply losing some of the strength needed to fight back. I knew that, one day, this disease would likely be the villian responsible for extinguishish my life.

"Would you like a glass of water? Maybe a sandwich?" Abigail returned to my side. She knew what I was trying to say without me having to say it out loud. I had already come to the same conclusion myself. "I know you don't like it when people bring you food, but-"

"I don't need food, Abigail. When can I return home again? I'm feeling fine. Really."

She looked at me, a hint of sadness in her eyes.

"Not today, I'm afraid. Doctor Stephens has some things to discuss with you in the morning, and we need to keep an eye on all your vitals. You have to stay overnight." She gave me another look that implied it was completely out of her control and that there was nothing she could do, which I assumed was accurate. Then she said "But I have a long shift today so I'll check in on you as much as I can, okay? I will try to make your stay here as enjoyable as I can - I promise. I'm afraid it's a busy night, so I have to get going. I've already been at your side for far too long." She sighed. "I really do worry about you, Christian." She grabbed my hand and squeezed it again. There was something very affectionate about her touch. Me and Abigail had developed a special bond since the first time we met, about two years prior. I was thankful for how she took care of me.

"And you better eat something sooner or later, or else all the nurses will just keep pestering you about it! Me included!" she said just before she turned on her heels and headed for the door. I glued my eyes to the sight of her beautiful bottom as she did so, her scrubs crinkling with her movements. Abigail inflicted me with such a strange feeling. Her hands always felt so delicate and comforting, yet I felt something else within her. Between us. I felt that there was a certain spark there. An undeniable chemistry. I wanted to say more to her, but there was just no time, plus it seemed quite inappropriate. She was just doing her job. Still, waking up to the sight of her beautiful hazel eyes was something I wouldn't mind doing again.

I turned my head to the right, and looked at the empty chair. The one that stood in every hospital room. The one intended for visitors. A year or three prior, my mother would have been sitting in that chair. She would have been by my side, to comfort me, and help me carry the burden of my failing health. But after a certain amount of stints to the hospital, showing up suddenly seemed a lot less urgent to her. Same old, same old, hmm? I probably had a missed text from her on my phone, but I felt too exhausted to check. Instead, I sighed deeply, and closed my eyes again.

--- 2 ---

Nurse Hannah Cooper, aged sixty plus, eventually brought me something to eat. She simply wouldn't stop asking, and I did notice my stomach was making noises like an angry grizzly bear, so I had to give in. I felt bad doing so, knowing I was taking up valuable time from the nurses' busy and stressful schedules. She made sure to bring a salad and a bottle of water, which she claimed would make me "good as new", as well as a piece of dried-up ciabatta bread with some cheese slapped on it. Finally, one of those little cups of hospital jello as some sort of half-baked dessert. As she did so, she insisted that I should take some time to enjoy my light meal, and to relax - and she sat beside me for a short time. She insisted, claiming it was part of her job to make the patients feel seen and cared for. It was actually a nice change of pace.

Nurse Hannah Cooper always introduced herself as such. It seemed to have been a mental reflex - a learned behavior - to announce her full name and job title whenever she entered the room. "Nurse Hannah Cooper, here with your meal!" she had said only ten minutes after her previous visit to my room. I couldn't help but smile. She was a bubbly woman, heavy-set and a little stocky. She had hair that reminded me of cotton candy - mostly white, but with hints of gray and blue hidden in the fluffy depths within.

"If you see Nurse Abigail, please do inform her that I have eaten something, so that she stops worrying about me" I said to Nurse Hannah Cooper, who sat beside me with a large grin on her face. "And tell her she needs to get a good night of sleep. It's been a very busy day, and I'm sure she needs it."

She laughed, and nodded her head. Her eyes were absolutely bursting with life, and in many ways, she appeared to be younger than myself, despite being older than my own mother. It was refreshing to see someone with such a positive attitude despite being surrounded with so much grief and tragedy on a daily basis.

"Abigail is very fond of you, you know!" she exclaimed, and her voice and demeanor went into gossip mode. "There's no doubt at all in my heart that you're her favorite patient, even though we're not technically supposed to have favorites, the way she goes on and on about you. She seems to be worried about you all the time, and it makes her a little grumpy occasionally. She doesn't mean to be like that, though! I'm sure you know." She laughed a bit to herself. "I'll be sure to tell her you ate, but I doubt that will make her stop worry. You two have a little bit of a flirt going on, hmm?"

I smiled. "Well, I am rather dashing.." I said, jokingly. She giggled. It was nice to know Abigail was fond of me, even though it was likely just in a professional sort of way. But Nurse Hannah Cooper had a point about her behavior. Abigail was always talking about my health, about how worried she was for me, and how she wanted me to eat and get better. She checked in on me far more often than any of the other nurses would whenever she was on shift. And I greatly appreciated her for it.

"Oh, you are very dashing indeed! If I was thirty years younger, I would pounce on the opportunity to go on a date with you!" Nurse Hannah Cooper said, and she gave my shoulder a gentle, motherly pat. Her eyes were twinkling, and she was smiling in a very friendly way. I couldn't help but to laugh. I suppose that I was rather attractive, although my body was not in the same shape that it once was. I had gone from muscular and fit to more of the skinny type. But I was tall, with hair black and shiny like polished hematite, and my face was very well-structured. And I had a rather sharp, piercing look to my eyes, which shone in shades of dark blue with a hint of something brighter towards the very middle, near the iris. However, my face seemed to be stuck in a permanent scowl when I wasn't engaging anyone in conversation, and that was enough to deter the vast majority of people from approaching me.

"Thank you for that kind compliment, ma'am." I replied, chuckling, trying to be polite - even though I was not completely sure if I should take her word as a genuine compliment, or if she was just trying to lift my spirits up. But I thought it's best to look at the brighter side of things - how she made me feel when she complimented me, regardless of whether it was sincere or not. Still, it was nice to know Abigail spoke so highly about me. Perhaps there really was something there. Would it be out of line for me to ask her out, I wondered? The thought had crossed my mind multiple times already.

Nurse Hannah Cooper stared into the distance and giggled again. "It is certainly true that young nurses nowadays are simply terrible when it comes to flirting! The more I look at you, the younger and more beautiful you look! You have the most brilliant blue eyes I've ever seen. I can almost see your thoughts through them." She then leaned closer to my face. "Can you keep a secret? I am actually married!" she said, her voice filled with an eager sense of mischief.

"You, ma'am, are terrible!" I said jokingly, while looking into her eyes. They twinkled like the sun in the sky on a summer day. "But your husband is a very lucky man indeed, to have someone so caring for a wife."

Her smile was so innocent and giddy, and it made me happy, despite not being completely serious myself. Nurse Hannah Cooper patted me on the shoulder again and sighed. "It's nice to hear you say that. Thank you very much! He really is the luckiest man alive - I am such a hoot!" She laughed at her own words again. "But as long as we're on the subject, is there a special woman in your life Christian?"

There was not. I had been dating this pretty little thing in college, before my diagnosis. As I got sick, and my future suddenly felt more clouded, I suppose it had affected my mood a little bit, and made me more somber. She was having none of that, and left me quicker than I would have ever expected. During my darkest of days, when I needed someone the most. It had not left me bitter or resentful, but it did leave a wound there that took quite some time to heal, and I had not seriously dated anyone ever since. Only short little flings here and there.

"No, ma'am." I said, and attempted to smile, but judging by her reaction, my eyes must have been revealing my true emotions. I was feeling lonely at times.

"Oh, don't look so crestfallen, young man!" she countered immediately. "Love sometimes hides around corners, or in places we wouldn't normally expect! There will always be love for someone somewhere - as long as we are here, and don't close ourselves off to the possibilities!" she exclaimed, as if she was trying to give me some sort of comfort. Then she stood up from her chair, leaned down, and looked at me with a warm but roguish look. "You rest now! I'm off to tell Abigail that you're available!" The mischievous glint in her eyes and the wink she sent in my direction signaled that even though she was joking, she actually really wasn't joking at all.

--- 3 ---

Sometime after I had finished eating, I finally reached for my phone. It had been placed on the little tray table with wheels, that you could roll around, and extend across the bed if you so desired. On the screen was a list of texts from my mother, my father and even one from my younger brother, Felix. That was unusual, as he wasn't very good with words, or expressing his emotions. All of them were sorry to hear that I was back in the hospital again, and wished me a speedy recovery. My mother wanted to know if I needed any books or supplies from home, but I informed her that I would likely be allowed to go home again the next morning.

My father informed me that he was already getting people sent over to fix the broken window in my apartment, and that it would be taken care of before the end of the day already. Felix simply sent a simple text saying 'hope u ok get better soon' - nothing more, nothing less. He never knew quite what to say when I got these fainting spells, except on rare occasions when his emotions seemed to have piled up too high and spilled over at once. The last time - or was it the time before that? - he had gone on for an hour about how scary it had been to see me like that. But that time he had been there when it happened. When I collapsed.

As I put my phone back down, careful to conserve battery time as this hospital did not have any charging stations unless you brought your own charger, Abigail poked her head back into my room. She looked flustered, and was chewing on her bottom lip again. There was something different about her - almost frantic, even.

"I don't know what Hannah said to you Christian, but I assure you, she's got it all confused." She seemed to chose her words very carefully, which took me completely off-guard. She usually spoke with a cheerful voice, and now she sounded more resolute and serious. It didn't help matters either that she looked quite bothered, and worried - which is something I found difficult to look at when Abigail's lips turned down in a frown, because she usually smiled so naturally.

I looked at her incredulously. "Nurse Hannah Cooper.." - I made sure to say her full name and title - "... Didn't say anything too outlandish to me, Abigail. All she said was that you care for my well-being, which I thought was really sweet." I wanted Abigail to know that Hannah was harmless, even though she did seem to have a side to her that liked to start up trouble, in a playful sort of manner.

Abigail let out a sigh. "Oh, thank God." It made no sense to me, and I think Abigail saw the confusion in my eyes. "The way she talked to me about it, it sounded like she had more or less confessed my undying love for you, on my behalf." She put both her hands over her eyes, and exhaled deeply.