Asher's POV
The machines in Axel’s hospital room were the only sound breaking the silence, their rhythmic beeps both comforting and tormenting. My brother's body was still, his pale skin a sharp contrast to the stark white sheets covering him. His lips had taken on a bluish tint, a haunting reminder that time was slipping through my fingers.
I sat beside him, gripping his hand, though he didn’t respond. His chest rose and fell faintly, each shallow breath like a whisper of life refusing to give up.
“You can’t die on me,” I said softly, my voice trembling. “You hear me? You don’t get to give up. I’ll fix this. Just hold on a little longer.”
The weight of my words was suffocating. I wasn’t sure if I was reassuring Axel or myself. The sight of him like this, a shell of the strong, stub
