CILLIAN MURPHY

"Come and lay next to me," she requests softly. I hesitate for moments before giving in to her request. I would do anything for her. Her bed is large enough to fit two people, but I'd rather sleep on the floor than accidentally harm her in my sleep. I lay down next to her, on her right side. She snuggles closer to me as if we have been together enjoying these mornings for years. My heart flutters at the thought of that: mornings together.
     "How do you feel?" I question, staring at her hair. She fiddles with her fingers, probably thinking of her answer. "I am nervous," she replies. "I am anxious. I am scared if not the same meaning as anxious." I shift my gaze to her ceiling, thinking of a reply. What can I do to help her?
     "What can I do to ease it down?" I then ask, looking down at her. She tilts her head until her eyes meet mine. My heart flutters once again and I'm not sure if I love it or find it annoying that she has a certain effect on me. But then her voice pulls me out of that thought.
"Your presence makes me feel at ease," she whispers. "Your touch makes me feel safe." She lifts her hand, and I entangle her fingers with mine. She feels safe with me. It means the world to me.
"Then I will make sure to stay by your side as long as possible," I promise, bringing her hand to my lips. I press a soft kiss on her knuckles. "Thank you, that means a lot to me," she replies. My brain thinks of our relationship. The start of this relationship, which leads me to the date. The date I hope she will accept.
     "I know you like to be asked properly," I whisper. I hear her huff a chuckle. "Lady Diana, will you do me the pleasure of going on a date with me after your surgery? Once you are well?" I question. She turns to her side, her head turning to me. "I will gladly accept your invitation to a date," she smiles. My heart races with adrenaline and I fail to suppress a smile.

"At least let me carry you down the stairs," I imply. She furrows her brows, looking down the stairs before looking at me. "Aren't the stairs a tricky thing?" she questions, in which she is right. I just wasn't fully aware of it. I nod, telling her that she is right. I watch her sit down and descend each step on her butt. Today is an important day for her. She will be operated on her knee.
     "You are not allowed to eat, remember?" I indicate. She nods, telling me that she knows that. She is allowed to drink water, but that is like it. Yesterday, we agreed on who is going with her. It was an obvious choice: Diana is more of a father girl, which means that Chris is going and all the attention is directed to me. Diana requested my presence and now I understand why. Because she feels safe with you. It still makes my heart flutter at the thought of it.
      "Are you nervous, Princess?" Christopher questions. I now notice that he is calling her princess. That is precious. I look at Diana, noticing she is still wearing my hoodie. It looks slightly larger on her than me because I am slightly taller than her. It looks better on her. It looks hot on her. Showing that she is mine.
"Yeah," she sighs, hopping to a barstool. "But you will be by my side, which makes it better." Then we hear the door open and close, which must be Emma. She lets out a great sigh while entering the kitchen.
     "Flora didn't want to go to school," she sighs. "Because her big sister will be having surgery and I think it is a small part of a jet lag." Christopher scoffs a chuckle, shaking her head. "However, you have told her something causing you to be here alone," he says. "I told her that once she comes home, Diana will be home," she says, while her face tells us otherwise that Diana might not be home.
"Then you come and visit," Diana implies, to which her mother nods. "We will see how it goes." She walks up to her and embraces her in a tight hug. My heart warms at the sight of it, but I feel an outsider nonetheless. I mean, I'm employed by Christopher, and now I am here for emotional support for my possible future wife. My mind finds it hard to comprehend, how quickly this escalated. Quick ... I wouldn't say quick, since there was at least a gap of a month between we last saw her in New Jersey and then met her again in California.
     "Your father will make sure to update me," Emma speaks to her daughter. She pulls away from the hug and grabs both her shoulders. "Mama loves you. Papa loves you. Be strong, dearest." I could see her eyes water and couldn't help but feel emotional as well. I feel nervous, not for myself but for her because she is nervous.

She allows me to carry her to the car, simply because there is no need to unfold the wheelchair. She climbs into the car and sits in the middle seat before I sit in the rightest seat. She turns and I hold her in my arms for the whole ride. I have my face planted in her hair while zoning out. Her hair has a scent of lemons and mint.
     "How are you doing?" Her voice pulls me out of my train of thought. Just like that one time on the plane, when her voice woke me. Simply because the chords of her voice are pleasant to listen to.
     "I am doing just fine," I reply, however, she questions me whether I'm telling the truth. "I am a little nervous if I'm honest," I admit. She turns her head to look at me, taking it as a blessing to look her in the eyes. "You do not need to act tough in front of me," she reasons. The corners of my mouth curve into a small smile before pressing my lips on her forehead. "Okay," I reply.
     The rest of the ride is gentle. I entangled our fingers and I caressed her hand with my thumb. Once we arrive at the hospital, I unfold the wheelchair for her to sit in before we make our way to the needed section.

"Miss Nolan, how are you feeling?" the anesthetist questions as she moves around her bed. "I am nervous, to be honest," she chuckles nervously before her eyes meet mine. The anesthetist shifts her gaze to me, the corner of her mouth twitching into a smile.
"I am sure your boyfriend gives you the right support you need," she smiles. Her boyfriend. A heat creeps up my neck as my eyes travel to Diana, who has a blush on her cheeks. "Oh, he is no-" "I am giving her the support she needs," I interrupt. "As a loving boyfriend would do." Diana widens her eyes at me, however, I only send her a wink in return.
''Alright, darling,'' she speaks. ''I need you to tighten your arm and I will insert the needle for the narcosis. You will go to sleep and then eventually you will wake up again with his face.'' She gestures to me and Diana her eyes fixed on mine. I can see the panicked look in her eyes.
''Can I hold her hand now?'' I question, to which she luckily agrees. I stalk up to her, entangling our fingers. I bring her hand to my mouth and press a kiss on it. "Don't you worry about a thing, because you every little thing is gonna be alright, mo ghràdh," I say, gazing into her eyes. I did not mean to say that, it just came out naturally. The corners of her mouth curve into a smile.
While she is distracted by me, the anesthetist takes her opportunity to insert the needle in her arm. "You will feel sleepy between now and a few minutes," she says, also informing me. I nod as I make eye contact with Diana. "Dream of something sweet," I whisper, leaning in to press a kiss on her forehead. "I'll dream of you." Her voice is gentle and soft.
I'll dream of you. My heart flutters as I watch her eyes get heavy. "I'll ... I'll dream ... of you, Cillian." She pushes her last words before drifting off in her narcosis. A faint smile plays my lips before letting go of her hand. "Dream of me," I whisper, watching her resting face.
"We will take good care of her and we will notify you," she soothes. I turn to her and smile. "Thank you." I watch different persons ride her bed away as I stand there and watch her bed leave the room. I eventually leave the room and walk up to Christopher, who pushes a cup of coffee into my hands.
"It will take about an hour," Christopher tells me. I nod before bringing the cup to my mouth. My mind thinks ahead, thinking of the premiere of Batman. "Is it possible," I say, pausing. "If possible, that I bring Diana to the premiere?" I avert my eyes from my cup to Christopher. "I mean, you should ask her not me," he replies. "It is her life. My role is threatening my son-in-law to treat her well and eventually giving my blessing. Besides that, it is up to her." Giving my blessing. I will need that eventually.
     "That is right," I reply, a faint smile on my face. My mind thinks of a scenario about asking Christopher for Diana's hand. A jolt runs through my body at the thought of it.

An hour passes and we patiently wait for any news on Diana. "Mr Nolan?" Christopher and I glance up at the voice of the nurse. "Miss Nolan's surgery has gone well. She did lose a larger amount of blood than average but we managed to secure her safety. She will be brought in any minute and the narcosis now needs to be slept away," she tells us. We nod and turn to each other, a smile playing on our lips. I could see relief flashing through his eyes. Relieved that his daughter is safe.
     A couple of minutes later, her bed is brought back into the room. Christopher rises to his feet and gestures for me to walk along. "You don't want a moment with her alone?" I question, tilting my head but he shakes his head. "I'm not sure but I'm almost starting to believe she will be more excited to see you than me," he chuckles. "Nonsense," I object. "You are her father." "You are close to becoming the love of her life. Don't fool yourself, boy. I know the look," he speaks before dragging me by the arm into the room. I know the look?! What look? Am I that obvious?

We sit in the chairs next to the bed. I watch her chest rise up and down. "Is everything going alright with the film?" I question, trying to kill some time. He nods, "Yeah, the editing is going alright. James and Hans have created masterpieces of music. We would like to invite most of you to watch parts of the film." I nod, agreeing with his suggestion.
     "Yes, that would be a good idea," I reply. "I am curious about the outcome. I mean, I have seen the scenes I have played my role in but I am curious for the rest." Christopher smiles before complimenting me on how nice it was to work with me. "I appreciate your way of work, Cillian," he compliments. It puts a smile on my lips. "It wouldn't have been that way if I couldn't work well with the director," I return.
     From the corner of my eye, I sense some motion from the bed. My eyes shift to the bed, but they must have deceived me because I see nothing. "Would you like something to eat?" Christopher questions, readying to rise to his feet. I open my mouth but then I hear an awful noise. I look at the monitor and to my horror, I see no heartbeat. "DOCTOR!" I yell as loud as I can. "SHE IS FLATLINING."
She is flatlining. She is going to die. Everything went so fast before we both knew ... We were pushed out of the room when doctors and nurses gathered in her room. I caught a last glimpse of her face before a curtain blocked everything. My heart is racing, anxiety is flowing through my veins in large amounts. My hands are pulling my hair in distress while I pace back and forth.
"She can't die," I whispered. "She had told me to dream of me. She told me."