After quite some time of driving, they finally pulled up at the hospital driveway. Desmond parked the car, then came around to help her out. Knowing how stubborn she could be even though they had only spent a short time together he expected her to complain or resist. But to his surprise, she was quiet and willingly let him lift her into his arms.
She remained silent the entire time as they walked into the hospital. Too quiet. If her eyes weren't open, he might've thought she had fainted. He handed her over for treatment and walked to the front counter to fill out the paperwork.
"You're the boyfriend to the patient, right? Or how are you related to her?" the receptionist asked.
The question caught him off guard. He wanted to deny it and say he was just helping her, but something told him that could delay her treatment. She looked like she was in pain, too quiet, too still so he chose to stay silent. Luckily, the receptionist didn't push the question further.
She simply assumed he was the boyfriend and wrote it down.
"Sir, what's your name?" she asked.
"Desmond Mervin," he replied.
Writing it down, she looked up again. "And what's your girlfriend's name, please?"
He froze. He didn't know her name. He thought about giving a random one, but quickly decided against it.
"I'll be back," he muttered, turning and walking away.
Without knocking, Desmond entered her ward. A doctor was attending to her wound, and Daisy's face twisted in irritation the moment he stepped in. But still, she said nothing.
He didn't care.
"What's your name?" he asked out of the blue.
Finally, she spokensarcasm dripping from her voice. "So that's why you've been following me around all night. If you wanted my name, you could've just asked. Maybe a little nicer."
"I don't need your name," he replied flatly. "I don't even care for it. The hospital asked, and I needed something better than calling you 'petty.' Although that does suit you so well."
She rolled her eyes. As much as she didn't want to give him her name, she knew it was necessary.
"Daisy Love," she finally said.
"Daisy Love," he repeated under his breath. Such a beautiful name for a beautiful petty girl, he thought, but kept it to himself.
"Your name is as horrible as you are," he said aloud instead.
Irritation flared in her eyes. "Like your name could be any better."
"Oh, it could," he smirked. "It carries authority. Desmond Mervin."
"Nobody asked you, jerk-face," Daisy snapped. But even as she said it, his name settled quietly at the back of her mind.
"I just wanted to show you that my name's clearly better than yours," he said, then turned to leave. He didn't miss her final eye roll.
The receptionist, surprised to see him return so quickly, raised an eyebrow.
"Her name is Daisy Love," he stated.
She blinked. So he had gone to ask his girlfriend for her name. What a shame, she thought. He doesn't even know his own girlfriend's name. Poor girl.
Desmond, waiting for the paperwork to be completed, could feel her judgmental gaze. She probably thinks I'm the worst boyfriend ever, he thought. Not that I care… But for some reason, it bothered him more than it should've.
Back in the ward, the doctor continued treating Daisy's wound.
"You and your husband are a cute couple," she said casually. "It was kind of funny watching you two bicker. But I was surprised he didn't know your name."
"I guess I never told him," Daisy replied.
"Really? That's odd. Why wouldn't you tell your husband your name?"
"Because he's not my husband," Daisy corrected, trying to sound polite.
"Oh! I'm so sorry," the doctor quickly apologized.
"It's not a big deal" Daisy started to say, but the doctor continued talking.
"So you're not married yet. He's your boyfriend then? Is that why you're mad at him because he hasn't proposed yet? Don't worry, I'm sure he will soon."
Before Daisy could hastily deny it, someone strode into the room.
"Yes, I'm her boyfriend," Desmond announced with a grin. "And I didn't know my love was waiting for a proposal. Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll do that soon."
The doctor chuckled. "You two should work things out. It's not good for couples to quarrel." With that, she exited the room.
"I'll be sure to do that," Desmond replied smoothly, a smile still lingering until he turned to face Daisy, now wearing a mischievous smirk.
"Why would you confirm that we're dating?" she snapped. "Like I'd ever date a jerk-face like you."
"Oh, please," he said, crossing his arms. "With the way you are, you should be grateful someone even pretended to be dating you—especially someone like me. Besides, they already assumed I was your boyfriend at the front. That's why your treatment went faster."
Realizing he had a point, she said nothing. She was exhausted and had no energy left to argue with him.
Desmond noticed her silence and wondered if he'd gone too far. But he didn't apologize.
After a few minutes of awkward silence, he finally spoke again.
"You've been discharged. I'll be taking you home. You've already wasted enough of my time."
"My time?" Daisy suddenly flared. "You're the reason I ended up here, and I'm wasting your time? You know what? You can go. I'll wait for my friend to get here."
"It's already late. You'd be putting your friend in danger coming out at this time."
"Then I'll sleep here in the hospital. You can go and spend your precious time however you want." With that, she lay back on the bed, clearly too tired to keep arguing. She waited for the sound of his footsteps leaving before letting herself relax.
But instead, she heard them getting closer. She sat up.
"What are you doing?" she asked, confused.
"What kind of 'boyfriend' would I be if I left you alone at the hospital overnight?" he replied, smirking as he headed toward the nearby couch.
Irritation bloomed on her face again, but she had no energy left to protest. She lay back down.
She thought it would take a while to fall asleep with jerk-face in the room. But she'd underestimated how exhausted she truly was.
Desmond, now settled on the couch, listened to her breathing slowly even out. That was fast, he thought. He stood and quietly walked over to the bed.
She was already fast asleep hair scattered over the pillow, cheeks still flushed from earlier anger. She looked… peaceful. Tired. Cute.
He watched for a moment, something unfamiliar stirring in his chest. Then, not wanting to wake her, he walked back to the couch.
As he lay down, the image of her sleeping face flashed in his mind and a small smile crept across his lips.
Not long after, he fell asleep too.