"I remember every look upon your face, the way you roll your eyes, the way you taste, you make it hard for breathing cause when I close my eyes and drift away I think of you and everything's okay."

Spencer. 

I wake up in a blurred haze. My eyes are darting around as the black begins to fade to bright illuminating overhead lights. Every part of my body is tingling, so much so that I can't move. 

My lips are dry as I pry them open and let out a small groan of agony. A cacophony of conversations overlap and I try my very best to comprehend any of it, but nothing's going in.

I scan the whole room until the blurry features of everyone are decodable. Nash, Jameson and Grayson. That's all I can make out right now.

"Jamie?" I slur, my voice barely there.

"See what you did? She's awake now!" Jameson scolds someone, potentially a group of doctors.

"I feel weird." I groan, reaching my hands ahead of me to try and touch something, feeling nothing absolutely nowhere I panic.

But Grayson slips in, placing his hand out, showing me I do still have feeling, I'm just searching in the wrong places. I cling to him and he doesn't even bat an eye, letting me hold it as he argues.

"You're good." He replies assuringly going back to his discussion with the doctors as I hold his hand.

"Spencer, you're getting your stomach pumped. It's nothing to be worried about. It's gonna be uncomfortable though." Nash informs me, coming to my other side.

I don't know if I respond at all. Time seems to skip and race by every second.

"Where's Noah?" I frown sadly.

Jameson rubs his neck. "He's heading home. I'm giving Maja and him a ride. There's only allowed to be 2 people that stay overnight and visiting times are almost over so we'll need to head soon. Ave and Xan have already left with Oren." He informs me.

Next thing I know, Noah is holding my hand, kissing my forehead gently.

"I love you." He whispers. I'm suddenly very glad for the overdose I'm currently experiencing, because it provides an adequate excuse to not say it back.

"I'm coming back 6am tomorrow when visiting hours start." He promises me, brushing my hair calmingly.

And he's gone. Along with Maja and Jameson. With Grayson still holding that same hand, and Nash pacing, some doctors stand to my left prepping a tube.

Words blend from the doctors and all I do is nod numbly.

Soon enough I have the thick tube down my throat and shameful tears in my eyes as I can very loosely feel the extraction of fluids from my stomach.

"You're okay." Grayson repeats, squeezing my hand. I start to think he may just be saying it to himself as opposed to me.

And then I'm dreaming. The lights around me fade out and the sound of a beeping heart monitor blurs into silence.

"How's she doing?" Noah's voice speaks hoarsely. How can he be back already? He just left. 

"They got it all out of her.. but she just doesn't look right." Nash's voice hums tiredly.

I want to die. They sound exhausted because they've been up all night. They're worried about me. 

"She sleeping?" Noah asks. "Yeah, come in." Nash replies.

Footsteps draw closer, everyone observing me. My body physically can't muster enough energy to even pry my eyelids open. So instead I just lay here, numb and nearly lifeless.

I feel awful. I feel empty. And not just metaphorically, I also feel physically empty. 

"I can't stay." Noah sounds disgusted. "She won't know. Don't force yourself to stay because you want to say you did." Grayson's voice is far from his sharp one, sounding rather deprived of not just sleep but also any emotions.

"I need to stay. But she just.. she doesn't look like my Spencer." He says with ache.

"That's because it's not her." Nash fills in. 

I finally manage to pry my eyes open, taking in everyone in the room.

Nash and Grayson are both wearing their clothes from yesterday. And despite their sleepy looks, they don't look nearly as exhausted as Noah, Xander, Maja and Jameson, who have all been home and slept already. 

But then I see Noah's face. A huge bruise sprawled across his nose, looking so battered out of place that it's barely a sustainable place for his glasses to sit without appearing squint.

"Spence..you're up!" Jameson rushes to my side.

"Everyone go." I order firmly, every aspect of myself coming back to me.

"Hmm?" Jameson raises a brow, "Go away." I insist. 

I push myself up in bed, only to have Jameson lunge forward and stop me like I'm completely incapable of moving on my own. I glare at him, silently telling him to chill.

"Just go to the cafeteria and get yourselves a drink or something. Just let me be alone for like 20 minutes." I explain, brushing my hair off my slick with sweat forehead.

They look around each other, then finally nod in agreement and start scurrying out. 

"Noah? Stay." I dictate, and like a dog, he does what I say.

When the door clicks shut he looks around the room awkwardly, refusing to look at me.

"How you feeling?" He asks after clearing his throat awkwardly. "Never better." I deadpan sarcastically. "You look incredible for a girl who just overdosed, got her stomach pumped and spent the night in hospital." He comments, lightheartedly. But I can tell there's something wrong.

"Are you mad at me?" I frown, my insecurities getting the best of me. He finally meets my eyes, stern and sharp. "No. It's not your fault." He immediately assures me.

"Is it because I didn't say it back? You said it twice yesterday.. and both times I was like out of my head in either anger or pills so-" I ramble, my gut churning.

"Spencer!" He interrupts, calm but assertive. 

"I'm not mad at you. For anything. And I didn't tell you I loved you so I could hear it back. I said it to make sure you knew." He assures me comfortingly, stepping closer to my bedside and taking a seat on the side of my hospital bed.

Up close I can see the severity of his nose. It's almost definitely broken, completely bent the wrong way and bruised up.

"I.. Well.." I start trying to bring myself to say those words. Truth is I don't know what love feels like — at least not with someone who isn't my brothers. I thought I was in love with my 22 year old gym coach, but I guess not.

"Don't say it. I don't want you to lie." He offers a smile. "It's not that I don't. I just.. don't know." I shake my head. "Then tell me that instead then." He suggests.

"I don't not love you?" I grin a little in response. "I like it. And someday when I earn it you can replace it." Noah winks teasingly.

"Since I don't not love you, will you tell me where these bruises keep coming from? Is someone giving you a hard time?" I place a tender hand on his face. 

He tenses up, removing his eyes from mine the second they warmed up enough for me to see the spark.

"Noah.." I sigh, forcing his head back to face me.

"I'm fine." He shrugs off, standing up and brushing off my touch. I can't lie, it hurt.

"Your nose is broken." I say firmly. "Who cares?" He snaps. I've noticed that when Noah gets defensive he gets angry. 

"Come here." I order. He blatantly ignores me, looking out the window to the sky.

"Noah!" I yell. He turns around, like a moody teenager being scolded by his Mom he rolls his eyes and walks back over to my side.

"C'mere." I pull the sheets off my body and move to one side of the single bed. "I'm not lying down." He argues. "Noah." I glare at him, he sighs and lays down beside me begrudgingly. Because as angry as he gets with me, he always knows I mean well.

"If you really don't want to tell me then don't. Just quit having so much pride and admit it's broken so you can get help." I say.

"They can't do anything for broken noses. Just a bandage, and there's no use anymore. Injury occurred more than 6 hours ago so it wouldn't even speed up the healing process." He lists monotonously, staring at the ceiling like a broken toy.

"Spoken like someone who's broken his nose before." I joke gently.

"5 times total now. They realigned it the first time, but after the second they couldn't do anything. That's why my nose is so fucked up." He continues with remorse.

"What the fuck?! How'd you get so many broken noses?" I gape.

"Soccer." He replies almost immediately, sounding robotic and almost rehearsed.

"And this time?" I urge softly. He turns his head to me and gives me a look. 

"I'm worried about you." I tell him.

"You're worried about me? I'm not the one who got their stomach pumped last night after overdosing on weight loss pills." He emphasises.

"At least you know how it happened." I snarl in response.

"Do I? You didn't tell me shit about what you were going through until it was too late." Noah raises his voice, still looking up at the ceiling.

"Exactly! You know how it feels to see someone you care about get hurt by something they didn't tell you about." I reply.

"Don't turn this into a life lesson to get something out of me that I don't even have to give you. You have an eating disorder. I have a bruise on my nose. You're trying to turn this into a big deal cause it means you don't have to think about your own issues." He accuses.

"I don't have an eating disorder!" I yell.

He looks to me now, his features softening, looking at me with somewhat disbelief.

"Spence.. baby, you do." He rolls onto his side. It's my turn to ignore him.

"I just swallowed a few pills. I didn't mean for it to hurt me, I just.. I wanted to be prettier." I confess numbly.

Cupping my cheek he forces me to look at him. I turn away from him, only to have my cheek sharply turned back to him immediately. "I need you to look at me when I say this so you know I'm telling the truth."

I blink in anticipation, watching his features stare me down intensely.

"You are the most beautiful girl in the world. And I'm not saying that because you're my girlfriend, because if you were hideous, I would tell you." He jokes, getting a small smile out of me. "You're so pretty, and it actually makes me angry you'll never see yourself from my eyes." He grits with genuine and raw emotions.

A tear slips out my eyes and rolls sideways down to my pillow. Before a second tear can even make its way out my eye, Noah has his hand on my cheek, swiping it away with his thumb.

"I can't stand it when you cry.. it hurts me.. it hurts me so much to see you like this.. and I don't know what I can do to help you." He confesses.

My breathing halts at his words, feeling immensely guilty. 

 "I don't know either.. Just hold me?" My voice cracks, he pulls me straight against his chest in an instant.

"I don't wanna ever let you go." He sighs against my hair.