Six days had passed since my admission. St. Joan's really was a good and luxurious choice compared to community hospitals with great care, top notch ob-gyn specialists and ...peace. I had a big room to myself and started to adjust to my new life of a full time patient instead of fighting it. Hunter actually had been able to work on his recordings, if only behind schedule. He was great juggling being there for me and all his music obligations. However, there was still drama with management he didn't want to burden me with. This morning he was deeply preoccupied with his phone, trying to make sense of various texts and emails that were the aftermath of a minor altercation last night. Management had been threatening him again. He was sitting in "his" chair with a dark expression on his face, brows furrowed to a deep frown he was typing a heated response. "What colour is this?," I asked holding up a top in his direction causing him to look up. I was standing on the end of the bed, rummaging through a small pile of clothes I tried to identify before deciding on what to wear today. After all, I was still wearing my PJs and since my eyesight had gone blurry I needed assistance. "Blue," he replied drily. "What kind of blue?," I wanted to know. "Um..." "Baby blue? Light? Dark?," I specified. "Dunno... it's not light but not really dark either." Now that didn't help. "Is there a print on it?" "Yeah, some-" his index finger traced the patterns in mid air, "black curvy lines or something." His attention went back to the screen of his iphone. That was enough a description to remember what top it was and I tried to find a matching jeans short. I patted the sheets. When several pieces of clothing felt like shorts, I needed to ask for help again. "What colour is this one?" I held the first one up. "Babe, that's shorts; they're all denim." Hunter said clearly sounding annoyed. "I knew that much, thanks," I mirrored his attitude in a sarcastic tone. "What type of washing? I'm trying to match an outfit." "[Y/n], I'm in the middle of something important here. I can't deal with your petty clothes issues right now." Hunter barked at me, then ran his hand over his forehead nervously. Ouch. "I can't see, ok, I'm sorry I don't wanna look like a fool," I said feeling this small. "What you're dressing up for? You're in hospital." The young man got up from his chair with a huff and headed towards the door. A second later I heard it slam shut. In this moment I painfully realized how much I depended on him. And how much of a burden I was. Suddenly, I found it hard to breath like a rock was sitting on my chest. Hot tears welled up in my eyes but I bit down on my lips fighting them.