The cold, sterile scent of the hospital was the first thing I became aware of as I drifted in and out of consciousness. My body felt heavy, like I was sinking into the bed, unable to move. Every breath I took was shallow, and my chest ached as if a weight was pressing down on me. The pain was sharp but distant, as though my mind couldn’t fully register it. There was a faint beeping sound in the background—steady, rhythmic, continuous.
It reminded me me that I wasn't dead. Which was good.
But my breath felt shallow and my heart beat was slow.
I blinked slowly, trying to focus, and through the darkness, the bright light in the room was blinding, sending flashes straight to my brain.
I saw a familiar figure sitting by my side. Dorian. His head was bent, hands clasped tightly together
