Victoria

Immense and infinite, the silence fluxes in the wide and unfamiliar room. I stand between two beds, arms crossed against my steady chest.

I glance over to the left side of me, to the bed that holds a reclined and resting body. I think back to when Isaiah's arm held me against him strongly, against my will. And when I was severely petrified of him shooting Rio. I can feel that anger still pulsating within me.

When my light brown eyes flick over to a sleeping Rio, who lays amongst the bed on my right side, my heart skips a beat. The sight of him injured, with a white bandage over his bare torso, sends me back to the very moment the alerting gunshot went off - and I watched him tumble back onto the floor.

I felt as if I grew weak in that moment, like I had no strength left in me to throw a hard hit at Isaiah. But when my knees trembled and I got down next to my fiancé, I spotted my golden gun that he lost the time the shoot. I grabbed it, with shaking hands. And I think my hands are still merely quivered... I don't know maybe it's just me.

But I did what I had to do - what I felt was right. Isaiah wasn't in his place to pull the trigger in the first place, nonetheless push me up against a wall like he did beforehand.

And as I peer between both wounded men, I can't help but to feel guilt. If I hadn't went there in the first place... Rio wouldn't of gotten shot. He wouldn't of been on some bed in Chris's place.

I didn't know what else to do. I couldn't drive to the hospital due to Rio's, and my own, gang symbolizing tattoo. Nor hurry to my house, without the proper medical equipment to save their lives. So the first thing I did was call Chris.

I'm just grateful he's OK...
My brown eyes settle on my fiancé, seeing his resting eyes. I walk over to the bed he lies on. Pulling the soft bedsheet over his sleeping figure, I hear the boor behind me open. Quiet footsteps soon follow behind.

"Glad we decided to keep this medical machinery a while back, along with the extra beds. We had it handed to us from a doctor we knew... least to say he use to be with us." Chris starts lowly, behind my back.

"And I'm glad that I still pick up on my medical practices." I respond quietly, feeling my lips slightly twitch when I finish blanketing Rio's frame. When I turn around, I spot Chris Attwood standing next to the door, fifteen feet or so away from me from where the bedside lamp reflects on his face.

I head in his direction, folding my arms. A faint sigh escapes me when I approach his side.
"Nah, I think we both know we're just glad he's alright." Attwood whispers, peering out at his best friend - his brother. I follow his solemn gaze.

"You did the right thing by calling me." Chris states. I meet his dark irises again to watch them contact mine. I send him a small smile, shortly before offering a half nod.

"Now if only you left behind this guy," he concludes, gesturing towards Isaiah. I let out a humorless laugh, as my light brown irises lock onto Chris's apologetically.

"As much as I thought about it... I couldn't leave him there knowing there was this huge possibility of him dying." I say softly, glimpsing at Isaiah. His eyes are resting shut, too. "I don't think I can ever do that to a person."

"You have a good heart." Attwood tells me, sending me a grin. I crack a smile in return. "Really. The world needs more people like you. I know Rio does..." he whispers.

I look at Chris again, next to my side, and I take in a smooth breath. "I'm the one who got him where he is now... in some hospital bed frankly." I point gently.

Chris narrows his dark brows. "What?" He shakes his head in disagreement. "This guy is the happiest I've ever seen him, Vic. And in case he hasn't told you, I've know him all my life." He informs me.

I swallow lightly, feeling my pulsating guilt dim down immensely. And I part my pink lips, glancing in Rio's direction again.

The room soon falls silent, as the two of us watch Rio from across the room. I fiddle with my lip using a finger, and my inner thoughts settle in.

I'm just ready for him to wake up... I still feel as though I need to apologize about... everything. I know what Rio walked into wasn't my fault, but me being there in the first place and over the course of my fiancé getting shot - that was, right?

Chris Attwood clears his throat next to me, and I'm snapped back to reality when his deep and raspy voice fixates again.

"He called me when he was on his way to you, you know." He says. In return, I peer over to face him. I watch Chris form a plastering smile - one that I've never seen on his natural solemn features. "He asked me to be his best man." He tells me.

I break into an instant smile. "What? That's amazing, Chris." I reach over to hug him, later feeling his large arms accept the friendly gesture.

"Oh, and congratulations." He says while releasing me. "I don't think I've had the chance to congratulate you yet." Attwood adds, scratching the back of his bald head.

I grin sheepishly. "Thank you." I say softly, before glimpsing at Rio again.

I bite my lip gently, before taking in a low breath. "You don't think this changes everything, do you?" I ask him, keeping my twinkling gaze on my fiancé.

"I mean..."

"No." Chris reassures lowly, attracting my wary eyes. "This doesn't change anything. Rio's been through worse compared to getting shot," he says, in which I already acknowledged. "It wasn't your fault, Vic."

Deliberately, I nod in turn. Maybe I just... I needed to hear it.

"Don't you for a second think that you've failed me, darlin'." Rio's low and rasped voice causes my attention to jolt his way. Rio still lies on his bare back, his dark brown irises watching me from across the room.

My heartbeat begins to exceed, and I rush up to him. My fingers instinctively curl around his own, as he flutters his gaze on mine while I stand over him.

"Hey..." I whisper, "you're awake." I feel my lips quirk up immensely.

I watch my fiancé's full lips twitch, a moment, as he squeezes my smaller hand in his. Then, his thick brows furrow, as I catch him glance around the room. I follow his gaze that lands on his best boy, who stands firmly watching us. Rio attempts to smile at Chris, but it seems like forcing those muscles only brings forth pain, as he winces slightly.

I hold his warm hand tight, in comfort. Soon, Rio's gaze finds Isaiah's resting frame, behind me. I feel my shoulders gather their tension, when his glimmering dark eyes latch onto mine again.

"How long have I been out?" He questions rather, before throwing his head back onto the pillow.

"Um," I peer back over my shoulder at Chris. "Not even two hours?" I watch Attwood nod in confirmation, before I turn to Rio. "You passed out once I brought you here."

Rio flutters his twinkling eyes shut, his full lips tugging upward.

Behind me, shuffling starts. I peer back, only to see Isaiah doing the reckless move of sitting himself up on the bed. My pulse quickens with dread.

He's awake.

My hand carefully slips from Rio's, as I turn around completely to face Isaiah.
"You can't just get up whenever, your body needs rest in order for the wound to heal." I start sternly, watching him peer down to the bandage on his stomach.

Isaiah grunts, hopping off the bed anyway to stand on his two feet. Shirtless, he stands tall and glares at me.

I roll my light brown eyes, before pinching the bridge of my nose. "I pulled that bullet out of you. Now would you please get back in-"

"Too late. I'm up." Isaiah says, extending his muscular arms out in a showcasing manner. "Now I'm leaving." He begins in his steps, toward the door.

I walk up to chase him, to stop him, that is, before I see Chris step in front of the doorway for Isaiah's prevention, so I stop.

Isaiah comes to an abrupt stop in his determined tracks, before he groans lowly and turns around. His dark and cold eyes meet mine.

Behind me, I can hear Rio sit up on the bed when Isaiah begins walking toward me. I glance back to send my fiancé a half nod, signaling that Isaiah's nearing is OK. I watch Rio clench his jaw, before relaxing his tense and bare shoulders - before much hesitation.

I turn to Isaiah, who stops just a couple feet from my shorter frame. His eyes search mine, a moment. "I'm packing, remember?" He reminds me. "So this is me taking off."

I take in a low breath, watching Isaiah's gaze flick over to Rio's, over my shoulder. And for a brief moment, it almost looks like guilt flickers across his bold irises... and pain.
Isaiah parts his lips, as if he's beginning to speak - and I can only hope that it'll be some form of an apology. But his jaw seems to harden too suddenly afterwards, and he averts his hesitating gaze to the floor beneath us.

Soundless seconds later, his brown eyes steady on my own once more, and he clears his throat.

"Nice knowing you, Victoria." Isaiah whispers.

Then, I watch his tall figure turn around, as Chris steps out of his way. And Isaiah walks away, before exiting the quiet room, shutting the door behind him.

I stand staring at the door for another moment, before I glance over my shoulder. Rio is watching me, lying on his back, as he reaches out a hand of his.

I form a small smile, and start in my steps near him. Approaching him, I connect my fingertips with his, and our hands intertwine. I claim a spot next to his resting and shirtless figure.

"Lets go home, darlin'." Rio says lowly, grazing his thumb against the hand that he squeezes. My smile widens, before I lean down, and press my lips gently against my fiancé's.

And my heart picks up on the fluxing contentment, as it flutters profusely.

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