I'm fine
781 Words
Selena’s POV
Darkness didn’t swallow me this time. It dragged me under slowly, refusing to let me go completely.
Faint voices echoed around me, distant and muffled. My body felt far away, like it no longer belonged to me. Then came warmth—steady, anchoring, holding me in place.
“Her vitals are unstable.”
The doctor’s voice.
“She pushed herself too far. If this continues, her body might shut down again.”
Another voice answered, calm and controlled.
The stranger.
“Then fix it.”
There was a brief pause.
“This isn’t just physical,” the doctor said carefully. “Something triggered her. Fear. Trauma. Something deeper.”
I wanted to speak. I wanted to tell them I could hear every word, but my body wouldn’t obey.
“She needs rest,” the doctor added. “And she needs to feel safe.”
Silence.
Then the stranger spoke again, his voice low and edged with danger. “She is safe.”
The doctor didn’t reply right away. When he did, his tone had shifted. “Then she doesn’t believe it.”
Slowly, my eyes opened.
This time, the world felt clearer. The lights were less harsh. The air didn’t press down on me. But something was different.
My body felt… strange.
Not weak. Not strong. Just *different*.
I shifted slightly. No pain.
My brows furrowed. That wasn’t normal.
“You’re awake.”
I turned my head.
He stood by the window, back partially turned, the faint light outlining his silhouette. He looked distant. Untouchable.
I didn’t speak at first. I simply watched him.
“You were listening,” he said. It wasn’t a question.
I swallowed. “Yes.”
He turned slightly, his brown eyes meeting mine. “What did you hear?”
I hesitated, then answered honestly. “That I almost died.”
A brief pause.
“You didn’t,” he said.
My fingers tightened on the sheets. “But I could have.”
He didn’t deny it.
Silence stretched between us.
I pushed myself up slowly. This time, my body didn’t fight me. I sat up fully, eyes widening in surprise.
He noticed. “I told you to rest.”
“I feel fine,” I replied, though it wasn’t entirely true.
“You’re not fine.”
“Then why can I move?” I asked.
He didn’t answer right away, and that silence said everything.
“What did you do to me?” My voice sharpened.
“Nothing.”
I let out a disbelieving breath. “That’s a lie.”
He didn’t defend himself. He simply watched me.
Anger flared again. “You brought me here. You won’t let me leave. You refuse to answer my questions. And you expect me to trust you?”
“Trust isn’t required,” he said simply.
The answer threw me off balance. “Then what is?”
He stepped closer, slow and deliberate. “Patience.”
“I don’t have time for that.”
“You don’t have a choice.”
My jaw tightened. “I always have a choice.”
For a flicker of a moment, something like amusement crossed his eyes. “Then try.”
I stood.
Fully.
No shaking. No weakness. Just balance. Even I was surprised.
I took a step. Then another. My heart beat faster—not from fear, but from the thrill of defiance.
“I told you,” I said, voice laced with triumph. “I’m not weak.”
He watched me carefully. Too carefully. Like I was something to be studied.
“You weren’t,” he said quietly. “Before.”
My steps faltered. “What does that mean?”
Before he could answer, a sharp sound pierced the room.
The machine beside me began beeping rapidly.
A strange heat bloomed in my chest. My breathing changed—deeper, unfamiliar.
“What’s happening?” I whispered.
He moved instantly, gripping my arm to steady me. “Sit down.”
“I’m fine—”
“Sit.” This time his voice was a command.
Something inside me responded to it. Not fear—something deeper. My body obeyed before my mind could argue.
The heat intensified. My heart pounded wildly. For a split second, my vision flickered.
A flash of white.
Silver eyes glowing in the dark.
Then it was gone.
I gasped and gripped the edge of the bed. “What was that?”
He didn’t answer right away, but his grip on my arm tightened.
When I looked up at him, I saw it clearly for the first time.
He wasn’t confused.
He wasn’t surprised.
He was watching me like he had been waiting for this all along.
- Writer
