One Meter
Copyright© 2025 by Heel
Chapter 3: The Decision
The corridor was quiet except for the hum of fluorescent lights and the distant echo of a gurney being wheeled away.
Emily moved carefully, her crutches clicking against the linoleum. The cast on her left leg was still heavy, awkward. Every few steps, her toes twitched inside it — small, involuntary spasms that sent pain shooting through her cracked heelbone. She gritted her teeth and kept going.
She didn’t feel stronger. Just exhausted.
At the far end of the hallway, she saw him.
He was walking alone — one crutch under his arm, his torso still wrapped in the stiff brace that kept his ribs from collapsing inward. His steps were careful but uneven, each one a visible effort. The distance between them closed without either of them meaning to.
She opened her mouth to say hello — but then his crutch slipped.
The rubber tip caught a slick patch of floor, and his balance faltered. Before she could think, Emily dropped one of her own crutches and reached for him. He grabbed her arm at the same time, instinctive and desperate.
They collided — hard. Her shoulder struck his chest, and she felt the solid edge of his brace press sharply against her collarbone. Their weight shifted dangerously; her remaining crutch slipped from under her arm.
For a heartbeat, they were both falling.
Then, somehow, they weren’t.
They stayed upright — barely — leaning into each other, tangled between pain and balance.
His hand was gripping her arm; hers was braced against his chest. She could feel his heartbeat through the hard shell of the brace, could smell antiseptic, soap, and the faint warmth of skin beneath plastic.
Her toes twitched sharply inside the cast, sending a flash of pain through her leg. She gasped, and his arm tightened, steadying her.
“You okay?” he asked, his breath close, shaky.