CHRISTIAN
The first time I woke up, it was her voice I heard.
It was faint, soft. Like she was talking from underwater—or maybe I was the one drowning. The words came in broken echoes, but I caught enough to bleed from the inside.
“…I didn’t mean it. About Alex… I was just mad… I love you…”
Her hand was on mine. Her head resting near my arm. Her warm scent cut through the sterile stench of antiseptic. I wanted to tell her I heard her. That I didn’t blame her. That she could scream all the awful things in the world and I’d still want her more than my own f*****g pulse.
But the blackness pulled me under before I could make a sound.
When I came around the second time, the ceiling was blindingly white and too still. A slow, rhythmic beep pulsed beside me—machine, not heart. Though both w
