The realization comes in slowly, fighting through the fog–I’m in the hospital.
My lashes flutter, and the light slices in too bright. I groan and squeeze them shut. Someone shuffles somewhere around me, and when I open my eyes again, the room is dimly lit. Closing them once more, I exhale and a sharp pain in my ribs causes me to wince. My throat burns as I try to swallow, mymouth feeling like sandpaper. A machine to my left beeps in sync with my steady heartbeat, but what causes me to open my eyes finally is the warmth that’s wrapped around my hand. I don’t have to look to know that it’s him. Karson.
“You’re awake.” His voice is low and controlled. Too controlled.
Turning my head slowly, it feels like I’m moving through water.
He sits beside the bed, forearms resting on his knees, fingers wrapped around mine like letting go isn't an option. For a second, relief washes over me. Then something flickers in my chest when I try to move, and my ribs scream for me to stop.
Not a memory. A feeling.
Cold pavement.
A weight pressing into my side.
Breath leaving my lungs.
My brows knit.
“What…” My voice barely makes it out. “What happened?”
Karson doesn't answer right away. His thumb brushes slowly over my knuckles in a rhythmic pattern, as if he’s trying to keep me grounded.
“You went outside,” he says finally.
Another flicker.
String lights. A breeze. Footsteps–no. The absence of them.
My stomach turns.
“I remember walking in the courtyard,” I whisper. “And then–”
Nothing. My chest tightens.
“Did I fall?” The question sounds wrong, even to me. Karson’s jaw tightens.
“No.”
The single word hits hard. Something inside of me recoils, and I struggle to understand why.
Movement behind me.
The air shifting.
Impact.
My ribs throb as if my body remembers before my mind does. I suck in a painful breath.
“Oh. How long have I been out?”
“About fourteen hours. The doctors wanted to keep you sedated because of the pain, and to make sure you didn’t have any swelling in your brain.”
I nod slowly. Karson stands from his chair and reaches for me, his hands gently cupping both sides of my face. It’s obviously bruised because I wince at his featherlight touch. Hurricane eyes search my face before he gently drops his forehead to mine.
“I’ll protect you,” he whispers painfully. “Everyone’s afraid of me anyway.”
A sob bubbles in my chest, and gets stuck in my already burning throat. It hurts too much to move. Too much to breathe. Too much to feel anything except the weight of his hands and the quiet desperation in his voice. The words wrap around my heart and squeeze. Words I’ve never forgotten. A promise he’s kept.
