"I think what we wish for most
is to join the stories
and be with those we love.
That's why I'm here."
REQUESTS IN HIGH DEMAND ⋆ MESSAGE ME YOUR REQUESTS TO KEEP THIS BOOK G...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
My throat was burning, as if I had swallowed a handful of embers. I could feel my diaphragm shuddering as I managed to choke out gasps of air. I was purely unstable. Everything inside of me was quaking, racing. That is, everything except my heart.
That familiar black-haired head blurred around the white infirmary, and three others were hauling me into the room. My mind couldn't seem to pinpoint why they were here. Why I was here. The hazy figures began to converse quickly as the black-haired one looked me over. His face became clearer, as did his eyes. They only showed panic. My brain, foggy as it was, did find a name.
"Simon?" I croaked, falling into another coughing fit. My hands went up to shield my mouth, and when I pulled them away, my fingers were scarlet. Confusion bundled up in my mind. Why was I coughing again? Why was Simon so worried? Why did I hurt so much?
And why was the border of my vision slowly edging away to light?
My pain was diminishing, and my coughs became weaker. Maybe Simon was helping me? Yet, he appeared so distraught on his handsome face. His brows furrowed, eyes wide with concentration but brimmed with tears, and his shoulders tight up against his neck. Even his hair was messy as if he hadn't slept in days.
When I tried to talk again, he quietly shushed me. "Shh, it's alright. You - you're going to be okay," he murmured in a cracked voice, gulping. He sounded as if he were convincing himself.
I reached up, lightly smoothing his hair with a pale, red-stained hand. I felt myself grinning, for reasons unknown, and I said in a willow, hoarse voice, "Don't look so worried, Doctor." The other figures in the room stopped. All motion was gone as I fondly ran my fingers through his hair. The only noise that was heard was a light beeping that was ever so slowly becoming quicker.
"D-don't worry ... too much about me," I said, frowning as my voice became quieter. My fingers became stiffer, and I could feel my own warmth wafting away. I was becoming colder, but not in a bad way. Pain ebbed alongside with my energy, and it became my focus just to keep my arm in the air. Fingers trailing down to his face, I smiled once more at Simon, murmuring again with a fading voice, "Don't ... worry about ..."
I trailed off, my hand dropping onto the cot. I only heard two things as my very being slipped away: a steady, droning noise, and a sorrowful whisper of my name.
