Page 114 of Riot

His head is tilted to the side, and wires trail from under the sheets covering his body. He looks like him, but vulnerable in a way I hate.

I sink into the chair at the side of the bed and slip my hand into his. He’s warm, and that calms the frantic beat of my heart.

I watch him sleeping, counting every rise of his chest. The doctor comes in a few times, but I wait for his eyes to open.

Exhaustion sits on my eyes, and I can barely keep them open.

“Vee?”

His cracked voice slams through the fog, and I yank my head up.

That dimple I fucking love is the first thing I see, then his eyes, dazed and glassy.

“Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

“Just you.”

His eyes flutter closed, and I wait for them to open again, but they stay shut.

So, I continue to wait. The hours crawl by, and the clinic stays shut even as the working day starts.

I doze, snatching minutes where I can, and when he opens his eyes again, they’re clearer.

“Hey.” I move closer to the trolley.

“Did he hurt you?”

I shake my head. “I’m fine. Seren too.” I push his hair off his forehead. “You scared me.”

“I was scared too.”

I don’t think. I fuse our mouths together like he’s the reason I’m breathing. It’s a desperate, needy, unrefined kiss, but I soak him in.

He’s alive.

Every inch of my body relaxes, knowing he’s okay. It could have easily gone the other way. I could have lost him. I could be sitting here looking at an empty table.

When he lets me go, his chest’s heaving and his face is pale. “Just had to do that in case you never let me do it again.”

I’ve never seen him so raw, so exposed. It’s the drugs, but it cracks my chest open.

I cup his face with my hands, pressing our foreheads together as I try to calm myself.

“I don’t want you to ever stop kissing me.”

Hope dances in his eyes. “Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

“Fuck.” He holds my hands against his face. “I fuckin’ love you.”

“I love you too. I thought I lost you.”

“I’ll never go somewhere you can’t follow.”

He pulls me onto the bed, wincing.

“What are you doing? You’ll pop your stitches.”

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