A Crown Divided By Loyalty

2

"Good afternoon," Carolina greeted softly, her voice a gentle murmur as she entered the room. The others acknowledged her with nods and half-smiles, their attention primarily on their loved ones. But her eyes went immediately to the last bed, where Vincent lay. He hadn't even bothered to glance at the door, his gaze fixed on something far beyond the window, lost in a world she couldn't reach.

Her heart clenched at seeing him; his profile was distant, disconnected from everything around him. She wondered if anyone had visited him during his time here. Judging by the way he seemed so utterly alone, she doubted it. Family surrounded the others in the room, soft conversations filling the air, while Vincent lay there in quiet isolation as if forgotten by the world.

Her eyes fell on the folding chair next to the door. She took it with her as she walked to Vincent's bed. Vincent, staring numbly out the window, shifted at the sound of soft footsteps. It sounded like someone neared his bed. Slowly, as if drawn by some invisible force, he turned his head to see who had entered. His eyes met hers, and at that moment, something broke. Tears welled up in his eyes, the emotion he had held back crashing against him like a wave.

"Lina," he whispered.

Carolina unfolded the chair and put it next to his bed. "Hey," she softly said, tears washing over her eyes. "Oh, goodness, Finn," she whispered. She blinked, releasing the tears and clearing her sight. His face was covered in bruises, wounds and swellings. She stood beside him, her fingers hooking in his. "What happened?"

Vincent looked away from her, swallowing his tears away. He hadn't expected her. He wished her to be her, but due to rules, he hadn't expected her. "I got hit by a bus," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I was out for a run. The driver signalled I could cross the road. But instead of braking, he hit the gas paddle."

"Fucking hell, Finn," she whispered and squeezed in his hand.

"I was in so much pain," he whispered.

Carolina let go of his hand, took off her cap, and leaned in, carefully taking him into a hug. "Does this hurt?" she whispered as she realized she might be hurting him.

Vincent shook his head slowly, though the movement seemed to exhaust him. His breath was shallow, but he leaned into Carolina's embrace as much as his battered body would allow. The touch of her arms around him, the warmth of her presence, seemed to offer a small comfort in the middle of the chaos. He closed his eyes, resting his head against her shoulder, his body trembling with the effort of holding everything inside.

After some time, Carolina released him and dried her eyes. "Jesus, Finn," she mouthed, still in shock. His blonde hair was messy, so she ran her hand through his locks. What do you have?" She gazed into his eyes and gave him a quick kiss. Then, she carefully dried his cheeks with his thumps. She pulled the chair closer to his bed and sat down.

"A broken wrist," he sniffed, showing the blue cast around his wrist. "A lot of bruises, a few stitches and two broken ribs. They said I was lucky." Vincent's eyes, red and swollen from tears, searched hers for a moment. "A few centimetres to the right could've been my head or spine."

She reached for his hand, which wasn't broken, gently intertwining her fingers. The warmth of his skin against hers felt fragile, and the thought of how close she had come to losing him made her heart clench. "I'm sorry I couldn't be here sooner. It must have been terrifying. I had no idea..."

"I couldn't reach you due to the rules. I was hoping someone was passing down the information to you."

"You could have called me."

"My phone is at home and I couldn't just ask for you, you know how it works."

"What if it was worse?"