Jean's P. O. V
I walked out of the hospital, sighing in exhaustion but also a relief. I just got out from an 18-hour shift and all I want is to get home and lay on my bed, however, that may not seem to be possible because the smell of my body drenched in sweat is not pretty. I bet how much of a mess I look standing at the entrance of a hospital, my hair tied up in a messy bun, and only wearing sweatpants and a loose shirt. I hardly really care, though. I just want to get home. Might as well freshen up before I get that relieving nap. Keith is picking me up and getting me home.
A few minutes later, he drove by, sliding his windows down. He waved his hand at me, I waved back. I hopped in his car and groaned, stretching out my arms. I lazily rested my back at the passenger seat.
“Wow, aren’t you a woman who is in dire need of a bath?” he joked, squinting his nose. I rolled my eyes.
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