DYLAN.
The scariest part about love is not the vulnerability it demands–its the fact that you could lose them, and there's not a damn thing you can do about it.
I've never known fear until I almost lost her. Not like that. Not in a hospital bed, surrounded by the faint beeping of machines that sounded like death knocking than medicine healing.
I could still hear the rhythm of it in my sleep– those irritating, godforsaken beeps, cold white lights overheard, the sterile smell of antiseptic that clung to my clothes after I left.
I didn't leave much, though. Not really.
I camped in that waiting room like my life depended on it. Because in a way, it did. Amelia wasn't just a girl I liked. She was the axis my whole damn universe rotated on. And when she was unconscious, pale barely bre
