*Dawson’s POV*
I sat in the hard, uncomfortable chair right next to her bedside, holding her hand in mine as I watched the machine breathe for her. It pained me to see the feeding tube invading her throat, helping her gain the nutrients she had been lacking. I gently rubbed her hand, feeling her cold, pale hand heavy in mine. I couldn't take my eyes off of her, staring at her pale face, distorted with cuts and bruises while the machines beeped in the background.
She had already been admitted for several days and there was still no sign of progression. I begged her just to give me the smallest of signs that she could hear me, a twitch of a finger, a flicker of her eyelids, or even a slight movement in her feet, but there was nothing. I hated not knowing if and when she would ever look at
