Timely Love ( A were story)

Chapter 71

Diana had been told—repeatedly—not to get up.

She ignored all of them.

“I’m fine,” she insisted, even as her legs trembled beneath her. The moment her feet touched the ground, weakness rushed through her body, but she refused to sit back down.

Kaelen was already at her side before she could fall.

“You’re not fine,” he muttered, steadying her carefully.

“I need to see him.”

There was no arguing with that tone.

With a quiet sigh, Kaelen adjusted his hold on her and helped her walk. Each step felt heavier than the last, but she didn’t stop—not until Dylan’s bed came into view.

He hadn’t changed.

Still.

Unmoving.

Something in her chest tightened painfully.

“…Please,” she said softly, glancing at Kaelen.

He understood immediately.

After a brief hesitation, he nodded and stepped back. Her parents exchanged uncertain looks, and though the twins clearly didn’t like it, they said nothing as they followed him out, leaving the chamber in silence.

Diana exhaled slowly.

Then she moved closer.

For a moment, she just stood there, staring at him, as if afraid he would disappear if she blinked.

“…You’re really not going to wake up?” she whispered.

No response.

Her throat tightened.

Slowly, hesitantly, her hand hovered above his.

She stopped.

Cyrentha’s warmth flickered softly within her.

“You want to.”

Diana swallowed.

“I…” her voice faltered.

“He needs you.”

Her fingers trembled.

Then, gathering what little strength she had, she gently took his hand.

Warmth spread instantly.

Not burning.

Not overwhelming.

Just… there.

Dylan’s fingers twitched faintly.

Diana’s breath caught.

“…Dylan?”

No answer.

Her grip tightened slightly as tears slipped down her face.

“Please,” she whispered, voice breaking. “Just wake up… talk to me… anything…”

Carefully, she leaned forward, wrapping her arms around him as gently as she could manage, afraid of hurting him, afraid of making things worse.

“I’m here,” she murmured against him. “I’m right here…”

Darkness stirred.

“She’s here.”

Nytherion’s voice echoed through the void, deeper than before, edged with something almost like anticipation mixed with excitement.

Dylan didn’t respond.

Not fully.

But something in him shifted.

“Wake.”

The word wasn’t a command.

It was a pull.

A call.

“…Diana…” his voice barely existed.

“Then open your eyes.”

Back in the chamber—

Dylan’s breathing changed.

Subtle.

But real.

Diana pulled back slightly, her tear-blurred eyes widening as she stared at his face.

His fingers moved again.

Stronger this time.

“…Dylan?” she whispered.

His eyelids trembled.

Once.

Twice.

Then—

slowly—

they opened.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Diana’s lips parted in disbelief, relief crashing into her all at once.

“You’re—” her voice broke. “You’re awake…”

She almost laughed, almost cried harder, not sure which feeling to follow.

Then instinct took over.

“I—wait—” she pulled back carefully, already trying to stand. “You need water”

Her body protested immediately, but she forced herself to move, grabbing a cup with shaking hands before returning to his side.

“Easy,” she murmured, supporting his head as gently as she could. “Just a little…”

Dylan blinked slowly, his gaze unfocused at first before settling on her.

“…careful…” he tried to say.

The word came out rough. Hoarse. Barely audible.

Diana stilled for a second, then gave a small, shaky smile.

“You should be the one being careful,” she muttered softly.

She brought the cup to his lips, letting him take small sips before easing him back down.

“Don’t push yourself,” she added quietly. “Just rest.”

Dylan watched her for a moment, his expression unreadable but softer than before.

Then, faintly—

“…stay.”

Diana blinked.

“…What?”

“…here,” he managed, voice still strained. “Stay… with me while patting the side of his bed.”

Heat rushed to her face instantly.

“You’re shameless,” she said quickly, looking away. “You just woke up.”

There was the faintest hint of something in his eyes—amusement, maybe, or simply relief.

She huffed lightly, turning away before he could see her expression fully.

“I’m not lying there,” she added, a little too fast.

Instead, she moved back to her own bed beside his, lowering herself carefully with a quiet wince.

“…but I’m not going anywhere either.”

There was a brief pause.

Then, slowly, she reached out again.

This time, there was no hesitation.

Their hands found each other naturally.

Fingers intertwining weakly but firmly.

The moment they touched, something settled.

Her warmth flowed gently.

His darkness stilled.

Their breathing eased—falling into quiet rhythm.

Diana glanced at him once more, her expression softening despite herself.

“…rest,” she whispered.

Dylan didn’t argue.

His eyes slipped closed again—but this time, not in unconsciousness.

Just… rest.

And for the first time—

neither of them felt alone.