His Immortal | Marcus Pike

28

I rubbed his brow gently with a towel as I looked into his eyes "Yeah," I replied.

Marcus seemed to relax further as I gently wiped his brow with the towel, his eyes closing briefly at the touch of the cool, damp fabric. When he opened them again, they were fixed on my face, studying me intently.

"You look like you haven't slept at all," he said gruffly, his tone a mixture of concern and frustration.

"I slept most of the night," I said quietly.

Marcus raised an eyebrow, his expression sceptical. "Judging by the bags under your eyes, I'd say it wasn't nearly enough," he said, the gruffness in his voice softened by genuine worry.

"I will sleep when you are better," I said softly.

Marcus let out a low, raspy chuckle that quickly turned into a coughing fit. When he managed to catch his breath, he looked at me with a mix of fond irritation. "You're going to drive yourself to exhaustion, you know that?" he said, his voice still hoarse but laced with affection.

"I rather know that you are safe and okay," A tear fell on my cheek and then down my chin.

Marcus's expression softened as he saw the tear fall down my cheek. He lifted his good hand, the IV preventing him from reaching me and tried to brush it away. "Don't cry for me, sweetheart," he murmured, his tone gentle. "I'm tougher than I look."

Despite the pain and weakness he was feeling, he was more concerned about me than himself. He could see the worry and exhaustion etched on my face, and he hated the idea of me sacrificing my well-being for his sake.

"Just to let you know, the case is over. It's finished," I said to him "You did it," I smiled trying not to cry more.

Marcus's expression lightened at my words, a flicker of relief and satisfaction crossing his face. "So, Daisy was behind it, huh?" he asked, his voice still hoarse but stronger now.

Marcus grunted in acknowledgement, his expression hardening slightly. The mention of Daisy seemed to bring up a mixture of emotions in him. "She fooled me good," he said gruffly. "I trusted her."

"I am so sorry I couldn't tell you fast enough, it I told you. Y-you wouldn't be in here," I started to cry.

Marcus's expression softened as he heard the guilt and pain in my voice. He could see the tears streaming down my face and could hear the emotion in my words. "Hey, hey," he said gruffly, trying to sit up a bit more. "This isn't your fault, you hear me?"

"It was, she texted me everything and I didn't tell you fast enough," I kept crying and I sat down with my head on the bed as I held his hand gently.

Marcus's hand squeezed mine tightly, trying to reassure me even in his weakened state. "Listen to me," he said gruffly, his voice firm but filled with tenderness. "You couldn't have known what she was planning. This isn't on you, understand?"

He tried to shift his position in the bed so that he could see me more clearly, wincing as the pain shot through his wounded body. "You did everything you could," he continued, his voice hoarse but earnest. "More than anyone could've asked for."

He brought my hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of it. "I'm the one who trusted someone I shouldn't have. You have nothing to apologize for," he assured me, his eyes locked on mine.

I nodded slowly as I kept crying "I'm sorry,".

Marcus's expression was a mix of tenderness and frustration as he watched me cry. He hated seeing me so upset and blaming myself for what had happened. "Stop apologizing, sweetheart," he said gruffly, his voice firm but filled with affection. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"I don't want you to leave me," I admitted.

Marcus's grip on my hand tightened even further at my words. He could hear the desperation and vulnerability in my voice, and it tugged at his heart. "I'm not going anywhere," he promised, his voice firm and resolute. "You're not getting rid of me that easily."

As I moved closer to the bed, Marcus didn't hesitate. He extended his good arm, wordlessly beckoning me to come closer still. He wanted to pull me against him, to wrap his arms around me and hold me tight, but the pain in his shoulder and chest prevented him from moving too much.

Once I was settled on the bed, Marcus's arm enveloped me, pulling me against his side. He winced slightly as the injured muscles in his shoulder protested, but the discomfort was nothing compared to the relief of having me close to him.

"There you go," he muttered, his voice soft and gruff. He held me against him, his arm wrapping possessively around me as if he were afraid someone might try to take me from him. He could feel the heat of my body pressed against his, the steady rhythm of my breathing, and it soothed some of the residual pain and tension in his body. He closed his eyes for a moment, just feeling me there with him, anchoring him in the present.

For a few moments, they lay there in silence, the only sound the steady beeping of the heart rate monitor and the soft hum of the medical equipment. Marcus's arm held me tightly, his hand gently rubbing my arm as if to reassure himself that I was there.

When I looked up at him, Marcus opened his eyes to meet my gaze. His expression was tender, his dark eyes filled with a mix of vulnerability and affection. He continued to hold me close, his hand moving lazily up and down my arm, his touch gentle but possessive.

Marcus's hand came up to gently nudge my chin, tilting my face up towards him. He leaned forward, his lips gently brushing against mine in a soft, slow kiss. Though his movements were limited by his injuries, he poured all the longing and tenderness he had into that one gesture.