I squeaked, jumping to face the speaker. He was right next to me. Why hadn't I heard him approach?"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." The boy looked to be about my age, worry written plainly across his face. His voice was pleasant and kind, although there also seemed to be a hint of sympathy lying just below the surface."It's fine," I said, brushing away his worry. I tried to discreetly draw a long breath, but he noticed. "Do you know him? Are you family?" The sympathy grew more pronounced. Apparently the prognosis for this guy wasn't good.I glanced back to the bed in room 514, trying to think of an excuse for my presence, but I could only think about the boy; he seemed magnetic somehow. I didn't know why, but he reminded me a lot of Mouse. He even looked similar to her, I decided; his dark eyes were warm and comforting, and his light brown hair flopped over his eyes. He appeared young, too young to be working in the ICU. He wore scrubs though, and he had an official identification tag hanging around his neck.
