XXVI
The doctor had done everything within his power. The bullet had been extracted with precision, the wound stitched meticulously, and every conceivable precaution taken to stabilize Darius’s condition. Yet, despite it all, Darius remained still. Silent. Unconscious. Leon hadn’t left his side. Hours slipped by unnoticed, but Leon didn’t shift once. He sat hunched forward, elbows braced on his knees, hands interlocked tightly, his sharp gaze pinned on his friend as if sheer willpower alone could pull Darius back. Darius had always seemed indestructible. Unshaken. A man carved from stone, unbending to anyone or anything. But now, seeing him like this—vulnerable, human—sparked something ugly and unfamiliar in Leon’s chest. A dull ache, a knot twisting tighter the longer he watched. His
- Writer
