Chapter 4

The next day, Ginger woke up drenched in sweat. His body ached everywhere. He curled up in a ball and cried. His parents, who had arrived an hour later, stepped up to the side of his bed.

"I'll go find the doctor," Lance, Ginger's father, said as he headed out the door.

"Are you thirsty?" Irene, Ginger's mother, asked standing up.

"No, I just want to stop hurting," Ginger said. Lance returned with Dr. Lee in tow.

"I hear that you're not feeling too hot," the doctor stated.

"Duh, I hurt everywhere, and I feel like I'm in an oven," Ginger snarled. Ginger rolled back onto his side and groaned when a sharp pain struck him.

Ginger's parents glanced at each other, then returned their attention to the doctor with worried looks. "When is his next heat cycle?" the doctor asked.

"The first of next month, which is a week away," his mother said. "Why are you asking this?" she asked.

"The symptoms are there; your son is having his heat cycle," the doctor explained.

"But it's too early," Lance protested. While Irene kept her cool, Lance furiously paced the room.

"Is there anything we can do?" she asked as calmly as she could.

"For now, we could administer artificial alpha pheromones through his IV," Dr. Lee said. "Let me warn you; it's only temporary,"

Lance halted in mid-stride, turned around, and stepped up to them. "If the procedure is only temporary, is there a better solution?" he asked.

"The other solution requires him to accept a mating mark," Dr. Lee said. Lance thought for several seconds.

"We could ask Thomas; he was his boyfriend after all," he said. Ginger's hazel eyes snapped open.

"Is he a alpha?" the doctor asked.

"No," Ginger's father said.

"Then he'd be no help in this issue," Dr. Lee stated.

They all turned and faced Ginger, who groaned in pain as he sat up against a pillow.

"What do you want to do?" his mother asked.

"Alex, I want Alex," he said, his body trembling in pain.

"Do you mean the Stephenson boy?" Lance asked. Ginger weakly nodded his head.

"He did help calm down your son last time," the doctor said. "I could contact him if you want," he offered.

"No need; I'm already here," said a voice behind them, making everyone glance at the doorway. In the entryway stood Alex, dressed in a navy two-piece suit. His father, Neil, stood beside him.

Tears flowed down Ginger's cheeks as he glanced up at Alex. "Alpha!" Ginger's voice trembled. The cries turned to sniffles as Alex sat down on the bed beside Ginger and held him close.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but how did you know our son needed you?" Irene asked. With Ginger in his arms, Alex glanced up at them.

"It's hard to explain," Alex said. "I woke up feeling uneasy," he continued. Alex continued telling the story. When he finished, everyone's jaws dropped. Ginger grasped Alex's free hand and slowly closed his eyes. A hint of seawater enveloped them. Ginger's breathing slowed and steadied. The doctor stepped up and checked Ginger's temperature.

"It's starting to come down," he said, sighing in relief.

"If it's alright, I'd like to stay with him," Alex said.

"It is fine with us," Lance said.

"Our son trusts you," Irene said.

"I'll head back home," Alex's father said. "When you're ready to come home, just call," he said.

Alex noticed Ginger's chest rising and falling as he slept. His lips parted slightly, pink and thin. He grinned and delicately stroked his finger across them.

"So soft, so kissable," Alex thought to himself.

"Mmm," Ginger groaned as he slid onto his side. His hand landed on the plush pillow. Alex pulled off his sneakers and laid down near Ginger, taking care not to become entangled in the wires on his body. He relaxed and drifted off to sleep with Ginger beside him.

Ginger woke up that evening, unsure of where he was. He then noticed the white room and Alex sleeping on the other side of the tiny bed.

"Oh, yeah, I was in pain, and he showed up," the redhead remembered. Being careful of the pole and the wires, Ginger slid off the bed and headed into the small bathroom. He emptied his bladder, then stepped up to the sink. He washed his face and entered the room. Alex was in a chair, reading a book.

"Did I wake you?" Ginger asked.

"No," Alex said, shaking his head. "I just woke up," he said.

Alex set the hardback book on the table and stepped up to him. "Are you still in pain?" he asked.

"A little," Ginger said. "It's not as bad as before," he said.

"That's good," Alex said. "Let's check your fever," he said.

"There's no need," Ginger said. "I'm fine," he said. Alex's phone chimed shortly after. He swiped the screen and read the message.

"I'm needed at home," he said. "I'll check on you tomorrow," he said.

"You don't have to," Ginger said. "You've got other people to worry about other than me," he said. Alex exited the room and headed out of the hospital. "As much as he seems to care, I must be careful," Ginger thought to himself. "I won't fall into this trap ever again," he mumbled.

Ginger sat in his bedroom, on his bed, two days later. On his lap was an open sketchbook with a half-drawn drawing of cherry blossom trees.

"Ginger, lunch is ready!" his mother exclaimed as she stood at the bottom of the stairs. He put the book down and placed it on his nightstand. He stood up and walked over to the bedroom door.

"I'm coming, mom!" he yelled, poking his head out the door. He walked down the stairs and into the dining room. On the table were three plates of Tangy Sloppy Joes. His father took a seat in front of one of the plates.

"It looks and smells delicious," Ginger commented as he took a seat.

"I'm trying out a new recipe for the restaurant," his mother explained, smiling as she sat down.

Ginger paused in his eating and looked up from his plate.

"The photograph is almost finished," he stated. "Is it still okay to show it in the restaurant?" he inquired.

"Mr. Franklin said it was fine and reserved a spot to hang it," his mother replied, nodding.

"Many thanks for your assistance," Ginger remarked, smiling.

"You are very talented," Ginger's mother remarked. "However, it would be nice if you had someone to share your happiness with," she pointed out.

"Your mother's right," his father remarked. Ginger let out a deep sigh.

"I can be happy doing what I do without someone pretending to love me," Ginger asserted unequivocally. "Plus, I have you," he stated. The red-headed young man continued eating, and the talk came to an end.

<quillbot-extension-portal></quillbot-extension-portal>

<quillbot-extension-portal></quillbot-extension-portal>