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poppyna · 3 years

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the visitor ; anton&poppy

timing: earlier in may + last week participants: @poppyvernis & @grantcontrol summary: anton gets sent to the hospital. poppy gets a snack a meal plan. content warning: head trauma

In his less than stellar career as an exterminator, Anton was at least able to prove two things: One, he couldn’t dodge bullets, and two, he couldn’t dodge the ground. In retrospect, chasing an overgrown spider on someone else’s roof wasn’t the best idea, but at least it gave him enough time to consider his life choices, as flashes of previously, terribly made ones came running back to him, right before his very eyes, the fall itself peculiarly slow, as if it was intentionally taking an eternity to accommodate this Powerpoint presentation of numerous mistakes and regrets. Then the thud came, and everything else faded to black.

The next thing he knew, he was coming in and out of consciousness, being wheeled through what smelled like a hospital, what sounded like an introvert’s worst nightmare. What he could see were mere blurs, almost incomprehensible and incoherent images fighting for his attention against the blinding lights of the ceiling. What he could hear were bits and pieces of rushed conversation, none of which he was interested in.

A familiar voice did ring in his ears, barely making any sense to him, mostly because he was more concerned about the stuffed rabbit he just dropped as they were wheeling him away, his outstretched hand reaching for it but to no avail. “...oh, it’s the exterminator...what happened?” “...fell down a roof…chasing...dog...” “really?! ...well, that’s dumb.” Then the darkness returned, dragging him back into the depths of his own mind, where a haunting shadow patiently lurked. Hello, Anton. You have your mother’s eyes.

Gossip spread through the ER like wildfire, no matter how much the nurses liked to boast about having the perfect mask of professionalism with patients. The ones with strange reasons for ending up there were the hottest topics- at least for a few moments before someone else came with an even more inane reason. Poppy liked to pretend she wasn’t as interested as the rest of them, but even she wasn’t immune to the allure of knowing other people’s business. And the business, specifically, seemed to be an exterminator of some sort who was in over his head.

The reception area had a temporary lull in new faces, and it was her who was tasked with bringing the personal belongings over to the different private rooms. She expected bags of clothes, maybe a phone or two, but not a… child’s toy? The last thing she wanted to see was some sickly child. Those cases always left a bad taste in her mouth. Regardless, she donned a pair of gloves and set out to deliver the goods that had been left.

When she finally came to the room the note on the doll had mentioned, she realized two things very quickly. One, that the doll did not, in fact, belong to some sickly child, and two, that she definitely should not have stepped into that room. Poppy could almost feel the uneasy dream the man laying in the bed was slipping into from her position all the way by the door. She gulped. She definitely should have just asked someone else to do this job. She threw a quick glance behind her shoulder before she slid the door to the room closed with her hip. As she extended her hand to brush over the man’s forehead to enhance the unpleasant dream he had, she noted that this must be that exterminator the staff were all murmuring of.

“Sorry,” she whispered to herself.

Anton has done his fair share of running. From debt collectors? Check. From adult responsibilities like being a good dad to a young daughter he’s barely met? Check. From bees? Check. The last part, he felt like he’d be doing for an eternity. Or at least until he got tired, which in this place, wherever it was, didn’t feel like it was happening any time soon. Where the hell am I? He wondered, at least for a bit, looking around him as grayish smoke and mist surrounded him, drowning this place as far as he could see. That was, until his attention was once again stolen by the giant bees that were apparently chasing him.

Anton. The voice spoke to him, not as sound in the air but seemingly from deep within, as if the speaker was someone, or something, that resided in his heart of hearts. You cannot run forever. Panting, wheezing, though not actually feeling tired, if only afraid, fearful for what could happen should his feet, knees, fail him, the exterminator continued to run, looking back every now and then to find the giant bees still after him, never speeding up nor slowing down.

Then he spotted something strange, something new, a face, unfamiliar and out of place, from within the swarming rabble. Sorry, she whispered to him, not as sound in the air but from deep within, only confusing him even more. Who the— He cut himself off as he turned away, colliding straight into something else, something strong enough to knock him back, down on his ass on the ground. Wincing, Anton took his sweet time making sure he was still in one piece before he looked up and saw the man in the beekeeper’s suit, his arms already reaching towards him. I’m already home!

On his bed in the hospital, his physical body twitched and turned, his lips moving, though rare were the words that came out ever coherent. Although the fear was great, his guilt would never come second, and under three words, Anton’s lips moved ever so slightly to allow them a strange passage. “It’s okay…”

Poppy’s brow furrowed for a moment as the visions he saw danced through her mind. What the hell kind of fears did this man have? She wasn’t creating anything for him to experience- no, this was a nightmare birthed from his own personal hell. If the rush of energy she felt from how terrified some guy and his insects made him feel- she probably would have cared more about that. She rolled her neck and shoulders slowly, head tilting from one side to the other. It felt like a massage to her very core that no physical touch could satisfy. There was nothing better than this feeling, and for a brief second she considered taking it all in that very moment. She wouldn’t need to feed again for quite some time.

The words that left his mouth snapped her back to reality. She opened her eyes and stared down at him. For a moment, she panicked. Was he awake? What the hell? That had never happened before. Poppy considered her own thoughts that she felt while feeding and bit her lip. The high, warm feeling in her stomach began to fall, leaving her blood buzzing through her veins as though she had just run a race while her heart sat thick in her throat. That’s the monster she pretended she wasn’t. She didn’t even know the poor guy who she just tormented and there she was considering adding a second notch onto her ledger. Fuck.

She retracted her hand slowly, knowing she shouldn’t let it idle on his head for too long. Poppy felt compelled to flee, but there were too many nurses out in the hallways for a fast walk to go unnoticed. The sun had yet to fully set, she couldn’t go intangible and leave, and even if she could the cameras would pick up a door opening and closing on its own, and- and-

Her hold on the stuffed toy in her other hand tightened and she resolved herself to take it face on. Poppy looked behind her, just to check and make sure no other nurse had crept inside while the whole ordeal was unfolding, then took a few steps back. She glided her hand down her face and combed her fingers through her hair, at least trying to make herself look as thought she was a normal human nurse just concerned for a regular patient.

The Beekeeper was a story Anton’s late grandfather told him and the rest of his cousins whenever they had become too naughty, too rowdy, for the other grown-ups to contain, to rein in. It was a tale of warning, of fear, the title character the appropriate Boogeyman for their family’s line of work. Yet as the years went by, as Anton found himself drifting farther and farther away from his own family, the Beekeeper became more of an afterthought to him, a forgotten string of words from a bygone era, nothing more than the whispers of a past he can never go back to. That was, until he returned to White Crest.

It wasn’t like he was forced to return, however, as his former life in California wasn’t all rainbows and butterflies. He had made mistakes, so many, and though he wouldn’t admit to regretting much, there were major milestones in his life that he dared wish had happened differently. Thus, the move was a welcomed respite from the dark clouds that hung over his head through the years, only to be replaced by darker ones once he arrived in this sleepy town. At the very least, he had inherited the pest control business as well as a better place of residence when that grandfather of his died.

“Am I dead?” The words slithered weakly out of Anton’s lips as his dark brown eyes wandered slowly towards the other person’s very form. Holy fuck, she’s gorgeous. It was a weird first thought, considering the nightmare he had just survived, the fall he had taken. One would assume he’d be more interested in figuring out what had happened, how he got there, yadda yadda yadda. Then again, the exterminator has survived far worse and has taken more dangerous beatings. It seemed that the gates of hell were closed to his soul yet again. “Are you an angel? I’ll go wherever you’d take me.”

It took him more effort than he was used to, but he was able to muster a warm smile, the so-called stone meant to hit two birds: the nurse, as a sign of gratitude for keeping his unconscious body company, and himself, as a distraction from the horrors that he had just escaped from. Groaning, he moved his body around, at least as much as he could, still tired and barely recovered from the fall. When he found a comfortable enough spot, a position that made the rest of him ease a little, he turned to her again, his eyes not wanting to leave her face, his smile unable to falter. There was something about her that drew him like a moth to a flame, a vision of beauty and salvation. Shame that Anton had no idea how that allusion was more dangerous than he could ever understand.

She blinked. The more conscious he became and the more words that left his mouth, the less Poppy was able to compute what was happening right before her. Her mouth moved to form the first syllables of ‘are you crazy?’, but she stopped herself before she broke whatever illusion had overtaken the man in front of him. This was definitely… different. She was used to crying, used to screaming, even used to people waking up in anger over having vivid terrors ruin their night of sleep. Not once had she gotten a complement. If she could even call a hospitalized man spouting words a compliment.

When more than a handful of seconds of silence passed between them, she blinked and cleared her throat. “Ah... no. Not at all,” she started, rocking back on her heels, “you’re not dead. So… I am not an angel.” A soft chuckle escaped her while her head gestured to the side, trying to point out the walls and machinery of the dimly lit room in an attempt to maybe bring him out of this stupor. (Yet again, she had to hold herself back from saying anything out of turn. There was a reason she wasn’t the one who did courtesy rounds with patients). This had to be a concussion of some sort, a fairly nasty one. That thought stung a bit. Having to wonder if she had just fed from someone with a concussion worthy of putting a professional athlete out of commission was a new low. But upon closer observation, he appeared… “fine” seeing as he just fell off a roof. Well, fine in Poppy’s books. Which had considerably low standards for what humans needed to be “fine”.

Regardless, Poppy forced herself to put on a mask of kind professionalism, looking back at him with a gentle smile though she made it a point to stare at his ear instead of into his eyes. “Don’t try to move too much- okay? You’re in the hospital. Do you remember what happened?” She lifted the stuffed animal she held and waved it a bit once it was in his line of vision. “Does this help? It seems to belong to you.”

The smile never faltered on Anton’s lips as he continued to look her over, perhaps even seeing her for the first time. “I beg to differ.” The words slipped out without his consent, though hearing them now, he wouldn’t have even bothered to rein them back if given the chance. He didn’t believe in angels, not as much as he believed in annoying insect monsters that could kill him, that most likely killed his grandfather, but seeing her heavenly face, all that cuteness and innocence, he could definitely see himself becoming a believer.

Slowly, his dark brown eyes wandered around them at her behest, though they didn’t stray long. She had a magnetic presence over him, one he could not seem to ignore. Or at least look away from for far too long, which wasn’t really that long. A part of him feared that she was just a mirage, an illusion, and if he didn’t keep his eyes on her, she would disappear, something he hoped the man in the beekeeper suit was instead. “Oh, hey, Mister Snuffleupagus Von Der Beek!”

His instincts told him to reach out for the stuffed animal, which his body followed and regretted immediately. He didn’t even get to move an inch, his shoulder quickly punishing him for overextending them. “Fuck.” Wincing, he tried to move it around, feeling the pain, before realizing he just swore in front of a goddess. Eyes wide in horror, they found her again, and despite the brief moment of silence, he tried to cover for himself with a warm smile. “Sorry… My shoulder… Pain… You know how it is.”

Anton nodded towards the stuffed animal as he explained further. “That’s the, uhh, favorite toy of my client’s three-year-old. Some overgrown spider tried to grab it and run, but I managed to chase it away and keep the toy but, well, you know… Fall from grace.” He let out an awkward chuckle, not sure if the truth made him look any worse. Couldn’t be any worse than the exterminator who fell off a roof. “I’m Anton, by the way. Anton Grant.” He offered her a hand to shake and winced when even that small attempt made his body hurt. Fucking hell.

While he spoke, Poppy let herself trail over to the hub of machinery at the top of his bed. Her eyebrow quirked at his remark, but other than that, she forced herself not to give any other reaction. Despite the night terrors he just experienced, she could barely feel the residual traces of fear that still clung onto him. All of it had seemingly vanished when he became conscious once more. She hoped that meant that his suspicion for what had caused it was low, too. Though, based on the way he was acting, she was fairly certain there was little for her to worry about in that regard.

She let herself relax somewhat at that thought, though jumped slightly when the man began to move, caught off guard by his sudden urge to get up. “Ah,” she started, reaching forward with her free hand before pausing, letting it hover a few inches away from him. “Your injuries aren’t horrible, but you still need to lay down. If you try to move too much you might make it worse. And that’ll make your bill worse, too.” A stern look crossed her face for a moment. One that read ‘I mean it, don’t fucking try it’.

Poppy shook her head gently and set the doll down next to his thigh, her hands coming to a rest atop the side railings of the bed. A giant spider? She thought back to his nightmare. Well, if what she had gathered from that was correct and he had experienced some kind of bizarre beekeeper who was out for blood, then the spider story should track. A quiet huff escaped her lips as the corners quirked up. “I don’t… know if I should assume that’s real or fake,” she replied, her voice low with amusement, “but if it is, then… that’s. A nice thing to do. Getting a kid’s doll back.”

“I’m not your nurse, but… I’m Poppy,” she paused when he attempted to move once more. She used the back of her hand to gently push his down until it laid on the bed once more. “I’m serious about the no moving thing, Mr. Grant.”

Anton has had horrible and worse, numerous times, throughout not just his respective careers as an exterminator and pest hunter but also his everyday life, most of which he will always regret. Her mention of a worsened bill, however, scared him the most, and with a gulp, he resolved to heed the warning, knowing full well his finances were much scarier to deal with than a trio of beeserkers. That look on her face is pretty cute, though.

His eyes widened in a mixture of horror and excitement as she approached his thigh, though it was immediately replaced with a relieved expression and then disappointment when the doll landed instead of what his crass mind had imagined. Although he was somewhat glad that Mr. Snuffleupagus Von Der Beek was safe and within reach, his thighs craved the touch of something else, someone else. Even in the aftermath of brutality, Anton was still but a boy, hungry for fantastical companionship.

“Oh, it’s real!” He said, almost too excitedly, dark brown eyes beaming with misguided pride. “I really fell down. You see the small rip on Mr. Snuffleupagus Von Der Beek’s right ear?” He winced as he momentarily forgot about all the pain, mostly due to his desire to impress her, and pointing at the spot, straining his arm yet again. His smile only grew wider when she complimented him, as he’s never heard an actual compliment since he came to White Crest, certainly not after he’s been paid at least.

“Poppy?” He mouthed her name over and over again after the word already slipped through his lips, her touch surprising him but in a very good way. He could feel his heart beat race again, her warmth and her scent magnified by his childlike crush. “It’s a pretty name. Perfect for a pretty girl.” He offered her his most charming of smiles, his heart beat rising when she mentioned his name. “Please. Call me Anton.” He tried to distract himself from the loud vibration inside his chest by furthering the conversation. “Is there a way I can choose you to be my nurse? Like a form I can sign or something? I’ll probably need to stay longer now. I’m so hurt, Poppy.”

A quiet hum reverberated from her lips. This definitely was not the first time a patient had acted head over heels for a nurse. And Poppy was sure it wouldn’t be the last, but at least this guy- Anton wasn’t some creepy old man. Just a concussed guy. Who thought she was pretty, it would seem. Her eyebrow raised once more and she stared at him. She’d never encountered someone who acted quite like this before. Even among the strangest of individuals who ended up in the back of the ER.

An idea popped into her head then. Oh. Hey now. She could make use of an infatuation like this, couldn’t she? The softer voice in Poppy’s consciousness tried to remind her that this was definitely a breach of the Hippocratic oath, but she wasn’t a doctor. She wasn’t even human. Yes, she was pretty certain that oath didn’t account for creatures like her. Who was she to deny free food when presented to her?

“I assume you’ll be kept overnight for observation unless the doctor sees you now,” she said, more to herself than as a response to him. She then let a soft, long sigh leave her lips. “If I transfer to your nurse, would you quit trying to move?” Poppy glanced over to him with that same look, though it was less serious and more teasing than before. She may not have all the schooling that the RGNs had, but she had the same nursing certificate nonetheless. It probably wouldn’t even take much convincing to get whoever was actually assigned to him to let her take over. They’d probably let her take all the patients if it meant getting to sit quietly at the front desk like she did.

“Poppy, I would quit everything for you.” Anton quipped, though part of him was certain that it was true, that he’d actually risk his entire life, change everything including himself for her, for a muse that he could serve. The other part? He’s been there before, a long time ago, and it didn’t end well. He did get a cute kid out of the deal, but she was taken from him, too. Probably best for everyone involved back then. He was, after all, at a terrible place in his life.

These days, he has most things under control. He had a stable source of income, he wasn’t too bored that he’d do less than legal things for the sheer fun of it all, then a rebellion against his family and everything else, and most importantly, he had a pretty big house all to himself. If he played his cards right, he may find a very attractive, very nurturing nurse roommate. He and the boggarts at Grant Residence.

“Where do I sign? Do I even need to sign anything?” Anton wasn’t quite well-versed with all these medical proceedings. For a long while, he’s been able to skirt out of its way, mostly with help from old acquaintances, accomplices, and his earlier almost rendezvous with death in White Crest introduced him to who both seemed like old acquaintances of his grandfather, Doctor Adams and Detective Lee, the oddest couple he’s ever met. Oh, maybe he’s here! “Oh, by the way, do you know a Doctor Adams here? Weird British guy, has glasses… I actually forgot his first name.” He chuckled, even as pain still lingered within parts of him, dark brown eyes extremely happy at the sight of Poppy.

“Uh-huh,” Poppy drawled out slowly, her head bobbing once in some semblance of a nod. She briefly wondered if this… infatuation of his was more of a passing side-effect of his concussion rather than anything else. Even so, Anton had definitely made himself out to be an unforgettable person.

Strange or not, a meal was a meal. “Well,” she looked out toward the door to the room for a moment, then back to him. “I’ll have to go poke my head around and see who’s assigned to your room.” Her face pinched in concentration. “You won’t have to sign anything, don’t worry, Mr. Grant.” At his question, her expression softened back to one of neutrality. Doctor Adams, huh?

“Is… unless he frequents the ER here, I probably don’t. Lots of doctors in the world, you know.” She rolled her eyes half-heartedly, his words sparking a memory of self-righteous doctors that would sometimes be called down to the ER and throw fits at the state of things. “Alright, I’ll go… run and sort this out. Do you need anything before I go?” She paused. “That, ahem, isn’t me.”

With the devotion of a high schooler suffering a huge crush on his classmate, Anton listened to her intently, a wide grin on his face. Concussion or not, at this moment in time, Poppy was the best thing that’s ever happened to him. The second best was probably waking up from that nightmarish hellscape he found himself in while unconscious, but it was probably just a one-off thing. He’s had the same nightmares before, and although they were never that intense, he did fall off a roof this time, so his brain, as much as it could while working in terrible condition, justified that as a good enough reason.

“It’s fine. I’ll sign anything you want me to sign.” The words slithered out of his mouth without any thought, none at all. If Anton had been dragged to a network marketing scheme instead of finding his way to the hospital, he’d probably have lost all of his money as soon as he woke up. Thank god for his client, such a kind-natured soul who was probably more worried about cleaning his corpse off her lawn than his actual health. Eh, good enough for me.

“Yeah, of course!” He laughed at what he perceived to be her quip, already forgetting his question about Doctor Adams. “What isn’t you?” Again, his subconscious tried to help him out, but Anton was presently not 100% whole. A part of him tried to make sense of what was going on, what had happened, but that part wasn’t as strong as the other part of him that catered to his sad, pathetic craving for her companionship. “I’m fine, Poppy. Not as fine as you, but I’m fine.” He grinned, even though his body was obviously not fine, not yet anyway, pain still lingering in his bones and joints.

As soon as she leaves, however, he mutters to himself, an unnecessary assurance to his own misguided feelings, his still blurry perception of the things happening around him, all while he watched her go. “Oh, yeah. She’s definitely into me.” She was, of course, not that into him, but he needed to believe that lie. At least for now, he felt hope, not as just another lie to trick himself into carrying on but as a warm dream he can aspire to. At least for a couple of days, maybe even weeks. Anton’s romantic relationships never end well, after all.

In the days that follow.

It wasn’t every day that Poppy put a bit of effort into her appearance on a day she went to work. In fact, it was never. Except for maybe the very first week she had landed the job. The long hours and constant moving around and sweating meant that makeup was not the best of ideas. Especially at seven in the morning. But she had been planning for the specific day a certain patient was to be released. She’d spent much of the time that Anton had been spending in hospital care thinking about what to do. Never before had anyone she’d ever fed on been so… completely unaffected by what she did to them. Not only that, but it was as if the man had been slapped by some cupid’s curse.

Whatever the case might have been, Poppy decided that it would be best to make use of it. These types of things happened for a reason, didn’t they? She told herself such while she put that bit of effort into her appearance. Her hair was pulled back nice, her eyes lined with a gentle wing of brown eyeliner, and her cheeks had a faint dusting of orange blush. Just enough to make her look like she was definitely not a nightmare demon in some human skin.

She walked down the long corridor of the hospital wing and came to a stop outside the door to Anton’s room. Poppy inhaled quietly, then knocked on the wood with the back of her hand. “Mr. Grant?” She asked, opening the door a inch to make sure he was awake, then more so once she saw him. “Good morning. I think I have something you might be interested in.” She raised her hand and waved a stack of papers for a moment. His discharge papers. Fresh and ready to be signed by the doctor.

For the entire duration of his stay, which was like just a couple of days anyway, Anton found the entire thing quite nice. Sure, he’s been having a couple of nightmares here and there, waking up more tired than he expected, but it was probably just the side effect of that fall. Besides, he finally had an excuse to take a day off, and though it probably sets BUG BUSTERS PEST CONTROL SOLUTIONS back for like a few dollars, it wasn’t that heavy of a price to pay.

Anton could technically take a day off every now and then, but he never did, always consumed by the nagging feeling of guilt and the dread of disappointing his already dead grandfather. So far, however, the Girl’s text messages, meant to update him on the daily goings-on at the office, were mostly boring “oks” and “someone called but i referred them elsewhere”. If he had known things would be this chill, he would’ve taken a day off a long time ago.

Aside from loafing around in his hospital bed, Anton filled much of his time and attention with the love of his life, his nurse Poppy. Thanks to his concussion, which was a weird thing to be thankful for, the exterminator believed he had finally found his muse. His past relationships all ended terribly for one reason or another, but he had high hopes Poppy would be a different case. If he only knew.

“Poppy? Please, call me Anton.” He reminded her again, for the nth time, though he didn’t really keep count and consciously didn’t actually mind. The words just felt like the right reply for her calling her future boyfriend Mister. “Good morning!” He greeted her with as much excitement as he could muster, eager to spend another day with her, only to get deflated when his dark brown eyes found out what the papers were.

“I’m being discharged?!” He turned to her with sadness and despair, as if he was betrayed, rejected, by the girl of his nightmares dreams. How could Poppy do this to me?! “Uhh… There must be some mistake? I still feel, uhm, bad?” Scrambling towards her, he threw off his sheets, grabbing her hands in desperation. “No, Poppy, I’m still in pain... Please. I need you… To take care of me.” He whined. Like a child.

Bingo.

Poppy rolled her eyes playfully and snorted quietly. By that point, she had grown used to Anton’s antics. For the most part, at least. “You say as much, but your doctor says something completely different. Apart from the, uh, bouts of night terrors?” She paused there, sparing a moment to look up at him with some faux-concern. Mostly faux-concern. Seeing the side effects of her noshing still twisted her stomach from time to time, but there was nothing she could really do about that in the end, was there? She still needed to eat. A gentle nudge and she wiggled her hands out of his grip.

“Aside from that, you’re back to being in perfect health.” With that, she set the folder she held down on the rolling table beside his bed. Poppy looked at him with eyes that were both teasing and pitying. “This is a normal part of being in a hospital, you know. You do have to leave at some point.” She tapped a painted nail on the top of the folder twice.

“It isn’t like I’m going to magically disappear after you leave. I still exist, you know. Is there something I can do to ease the pain of this discharge?”

“Oh, yeah… The night terrors…” Anton simply shrugged. He didn’t really want to talk about them, afraid to unearth a childhood trauma that he may not be yet ready to come face-to-face with. As much as the Beekeeper was but a story his late grandfather used to tell his grandchildren whenever they’d misbehaved too much, the exterminator has seen and experienced otherwise, a part of him certain that there was more to the tale than he was told. With a smile, however, he eased her concern, not wanting to burden the love of his life with his inglorious fears. “Just a side effect of the fall, I think? Nothing to worry about!”

Yet he could not stave off the disappointment and sadness he felt at the idea that this was it, this was the part where they’d, well, part ways, him and Poppy, forever no more. Anton felt his heart wrench, a stinking feeling in the deepest pits of his stomach that almost sent him in a panic. This was the best he’s felt in weeks, months, and now it seems over. Back to lonely nights in his late grandfather’s massive house then. Maybe he should really put that guest room up for rent. “Do I have to?”

There was nothing normal about him, that much he understood. Certainly, the adjective perfect was rarely used to reference Anton. Poppy was right, however: All things must come to an end, even the good ones, especially the good ones. Life is nothing else but suffering, sometimes tolerable, most of the time annoying as fuck. Still, she offered him hope, and like trout to a lure, he could not ignore it. Forlorn, his dark brown eyes wandered back to her, and he mustered a weak smile.

“Promise? I mean, I guess it’ll be a little less painful if you, like, I don’t know, keep in touch? By, uhm, giving me your number? There’s, like, a really good restaurant at the docks. Dinner sounds like the least I can do to thank you for keeping me healthy.”

Poppy smiled.

She put a finger to her lips, as if to tell him not to tell anyone else. Without saying anything, she pulled a pad of sticky notes and a pen from the pockets of her scrubs. If Anton was anyone else, she would have worried that they might wonder why she precariously had such things in her pocket, but she had learned that by that point, he didn’t seem to care about much other than looking right at her. For a moment she wondered what his reaction would be if he ever figured out what she was. This little façade couldn’t go on forever- at least. For her, time had proven that everything nice would have to end at some point. Would he still be as awestruck if he knew? Or would he finally come back to his senses?

A thought popped in her head. Had she ever cared so much about what a human really thought of her? Really?

When she glanced up and saw the genuine gleam of desperation in Anton’s eyes, Poppy decided not to worry about it. Whatever he wanted out of her, she could play along. No one else was being hurt- clearly he wasn’t as affected as other humans would have been. As she carefully wrote down the digits to her number, adding a small smiley face at the end, just for the appeal, she spoke: “As long as it doesn’t entail you chasing after some sort of gigantic bug and getting another concussion.” She peeled the note off the pad and flattened it down on the cover of the folder, the ink on the face smearing just-so.

Poppy took a few steps back and smiled. “Another nurse will stop-by in a bit with some more for you to sign. And then you’ll be a free man once more.”

Anton nodded fervently, dark brown eyes wide in delight as they found themselves glued on the tiny piece of paper that contained Poppy’s number, that he held as tightly as he could, as if he was afraid it would vanish very soon. Committing her contact information to his memory, the exterminator couldn’t hide his triumphant joy, chuckling at her quip. It would be dishonest to not admit that he had thought about doing the same thing again, suffering the fall and the nightmares as an excuse for him to be near her once more, in the same room as the angelic face who woke him up from his nightmare. Her phone number was a safer compromise, though.

“Thank you. Again. You have no idea how much this means to me, Poppy.” He didn’t either. Not really. Especially all things considered. “I’ll see you on the other side.”

That was the last he saw of her. At least at the time. When he was told to leave, the exterminator unfortunately couldn’t get a hold of the nurse that had a warm grip on his heart. Anton wanted to wait and see her, bid her goodbye at the very least, but she was apparently busy elsewhere and some security guard was being rude, watching him like a hawk does a mouse. With her parting gift, however, he knew it wouldn’t be long until they crossed paths again. Or at least until he’d hear her voice again. Maybe, if she was too busy to have dinner with him tonight, he would at least see her in his dreams. The thought made him smile as he finally made his way out of the hospital, breathing in the fresh air made even better by the memory of his muse.

In fields of poppy, buzzes this little bee.

#wickedswriting #chatzy: anton

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