Moments Under The Sun.

(Isa's POV)

The faint beeping of the monitor filled the room, a quiet, steady reminder of my reality. I lay still, staring at the speckled ceiling tiles as if the patterns held answers. It was strange how quickly you could become accustomed to the sterile scent of disinfectant and the distant hum of hospital machinery.

The air was thick with that peculiar silence hospitals had-a quiet not of peace, but of anticipation. It settled into my bones, weighing me down even as I fought to hold onto my usual sense of composure.

"You look like you're contemplating the secrets of the universe," Claire said, breaking the silence.

I turned my head to find her perched on the edge of the chair beside me, her curly hair spilling out of a loose bun. She wore the same navy scrubs as always, though they were rumpled now, a testament to her endless hours on shift.

"Maybe I am," I replied, my voice raspier than I liked.

Claire smirked. "Well, let me know if you crack it. I could use some enlightenment."

The corner of my mouth twitched into something like a smile. "Don't hold your breath."

She leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees. "How are you feeling today? And don't give me that 'I'm fine' nonsense."

I hesitated, swallowing against the lump in my throat. "Tired," I admitted.

"That's better," she said, nodding as if we'd just struck some sort of deal. "Tired, we can work with. Just means you need to rest more."

Rest. The word felt ironic when I spent most of my time lying down these days. Still, I appreciated her effort. Claire had a way of making things seem manageable, even when they weren't.

---

Flowers and Light

Claire moved to the small table by the window, fussing over a bouquet of yellow roses that someone-probably my father-had sent. She plucked out a few wilted leaves and adjusted the angle of the vase until she was satisfied.

"These are nice," she commented, glancing back at me. "Bright. Cheerful."

I shrugged. "Dad's way of overcompensating."

"Overcompensating for what?"

"For not being here," I said, the bitterness slipping out before I could catch it.

Claire didn't respond right away, but I saw the way her shoulders stiffened. "He cares," she said finally. "Maybe not in the way you want him to, but he does."

I didn't answer. It wasn't worth arguing about.

Instead, I turned my attention to the window. The sunlight streamed in, painting golden streaks across the stark white walls. Outside, the world moved on, oblivious to the tiny universe inside this room.

---

A Familiar Knock

A soft knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts. Before I could respond, the door creaked open, and my younger brother, Daniel, poked his head in.

"Hey, big sis," he said, grinning as he stepped inside. He was carrying a crinkled plastic bag that rattled as he moved.

"Daniel," I said, a real smile tugging at my lips for the first time all day.

He walked over to the bed, dropping the bag onto the chair Claire had just vacated. "Brought you some contraband," he said, pulling out a pack of chocolate biscuits and a can of soda.

"Not exactly hospital-approved," Claire commented, crossing her arms.

"It's vending machine-approved," Daniel shot back, his grin widening.

Claire rolled her eyes but didn't press the issue.

"Thanks, Danny," I said, reaching for the biscuits.

"Anytime." He plopped down into the chair, stretching his long legs out in front of him. "How's it going in here?"

I shrugged. "Same as always."

"Boring, then."

I laughed softly. "You could say that."

---

Brotherly Concern

Daniel leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You look better than the last time I saw you," he said, his tone more serious now.

"Liar," I teased, though I appreciated the effort.

"Not lying," he insisted. "You've got more color in your face."

"Because Claire's been forcing me to eat," I said, glancing at her.

"Damn right," Claire said, smirking. "Someone's gotta make sure you're taking care of yourself."

Daniel nodded solemnly. "Good. You need to be at full strength so you can get out of here and come back to bossing me around."

I chuckled, the sound lighter than it had been in days. "Don't think I've forgotten about that time you wrecked Dad's car."

"That was five years ago!" he protested, his eyes wide with mock indignation.

"And I'll never let you live it down," I replied, my smile widening.

---

A Shared Memory

For a while, the three of us fell into an easy rhythm of banter and laughter. It reminded me of simpler times-times before hospital rooms and endless tests.

"Do you remember that summer we built the treehouse?" Daniel asked suddenly, his eyes lighting up with nostalgia.

I nodded. "How could I forget? You fell out of it on the first day."

"And you didn't even laugh," he said, his tone almost accusatory.

"Of course not," I said, feigning innocence. "I was too busy trying to drag your sorry butt back to the house."

Claire snorted. "Sounds about right. Isa to the rescue."

"Always," Daniel said, his expression softening. "You've always been the one holding everything together."

His words hung in the air, heavy and unspoken. I looked away, focusing on the sunlight streaming through the window.

---

A Quiet Moment

Eventually, the conversation tapered off. Daniel flipped through a magazine he'd grabbed from the waiting room, while Claire busied herself organizing the small stack of books on the table.

I let my eyes drift closed, their presence a comfort I didn't realize I needed. The sound of their voices, the warmth of the sunlight-it all felt like a balm, however temporary.

"Isa," Daniel said suddenly, his voice pulling me back.

"Yeah?" I replied, my eyes still closed.

"You're going to be okay," he said, his tone firm.

I opened my eyes to find him staring at me, his jaw set in that stubborn way he'd had since he was a kid.

"I know," I said, though the words felt hollow.

He nodded, satisfied for now.

---

The End of the Visit

A nurse popped her head in, clipboard in hand. "Sorry to interrupt, but visiting hours are almost over."

Daniel groaned, slapping his hands on his knees. "Guess that's my cue."

"Don't be so dramatic," I said, smiling.

He leaned down to hug me, his embrace careful but firm. "Love you, big sis."

"Love you too," I whispered, my throat tightening.

As he pulled away, Claire stepped back to let him pass. "Take care of her," he said to her, his voice low but earnest.

"Always," Claire replied, giving him a reassuring nod.

---

Fragments of Hope

After Daniel left, the room felt quieter, though not oppressively so. Claire returned to her chair, pulling out her phone to scroll through something.

"Do you ever get tired of babysitting me?" I asked after a while.

She looked up, startled. "What?"

"You're always here," I said, gesturing vaguely. "Don't you ever wish you were doing something else?"

Claire set her phone down, her expression softening. "Isa, you're not a burden. If that's what you're worried about, stop. I'm here because I want to be. Because you're my best friend, and I care about you."

Her words settled over me like a warm blanket. I blinked back the tears threatening to spill over, not trusting myself to speak.

"Now," she said, standing up and stretching, "you should get some rest. Doctor's orders."

I nodded, my body already sinking deeper into the mattress.

As I drifted off, the last thing I saw was the sunlight streaming through the window, painting the walls in gold.