Sycamore and Sage || Killian
Harry’s midweek shifts were both his favourites and his most hated for one simple reason - it meant he had to go to the hospital. Being such a small town, it wasn’t that far away from the houses he had to tend to, and the shop owner had arranged a long standing agreement to provide the hospital with daily papers at minimal expense for their waiting rooms. Occasionally, a few of the patients took advantage and had their papers redirected to their rooms if they were confined for a few days or more, and today was one such day. A small piece of paper with the designated rooms (two) sat in his pocket as he cycled along Main Street.
Hit the hospital first, then the houses, and then he could go home to continue his latest Dragon Age run. It had been getting so good, too, before he’d had to turn it off and call it a night. Yes, he definitely had his priorities in place and they were, for today, solely video games.
He smiled at the familiar face on reception, giving the nurse a small wave as he wandered through to the main waiting area. Finding the table now cleared of yesterday’s papers, he tugged the parcel from his bag and dumped them down on the coffee table, glancing around the room. It was quiet this morning, visiting hours not yet open, and it was almost... pleasant. Or as pleasant as a hospital could get, he supposed, glancing down at the paper and catching the headline.
Oh, yeah. Miner’s Day.
He’d been glad he missed the excitement, in one way. It could so easily have been him in the crossfire, or anyone else. It was just unlucky that it was the surly florist who’d been the one caught under the faulty lighting. Actually, it hadn’t been that long. He’d still be in the hospital.
Harry had always been curious if that rumour about his missing hand was true. Would it hurt to see if he was awake?
Glancing around to see if any nurses were around to stop him, Harry crept back out of the waiting room and towards the private rooms. Passing by one of his deliveries, he slipped it under the door, peeking his head just up above the window. No, definitely not the florist. He’d seen the man walking around before. A glance at the paper confirmed it - Killian Jones. He just had to find the right-
Bingo.
A few doors down, just slightly ajar, was the room he wanted. He could see the man through the window, although he couldn’t quite see if he was awake, couldn’t see his face. Harry leaned in a little closer, intending to try and sneak a glimpse, and instead pushed the door all the way open, stumbling inside.
Well, crap.
@pickyourpoisonflorist
