Silver Lining ❥ daerin

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟑: 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝

Calista awoke the next morning with a dull ache in her ribs. She winced as she tried to stretch her arms, her body stiff and protesting every movement. The pain was sharper now, not just a bruise from the impact of the crash, but a reminder of how fragile her body could be—even after all the races, the training, the years spent behind the wheel of a machine that made her feel invincible.

Sage stirred beside her, having fallen asleep in the same clothes she wore the night before. The early morning light filtered through the curtains, casting soft shadows across the room. Calista tried to sit up, but her body refused to cooperate, and she let out a soft groan of pain.

Sage was immediately awake, her eyes fluttering open, and she turned to look at Calista with concern etched on her face. "Calista? Are you okay?" she asked, sitting up quickly and reaching out to touch her arm.

Calista winced again, but she gave Sage a small, tired smile. "Yeah, just sore. Guess I'm not as invincible as I thought."

Sage's brow furrowed, her fingers grazing the edge of the bruise that had spread across Calista's side overnight. It was an ugly, dark purple, blossoming like a violent flower across her ribs. "You need to rest. You should've said something last night. I didn't realise it was this bad."

"I didn't realise either." Calista chuckled softly, though it hurt to laugh. "But I'll be fine. Just need to take it easy for a few days."

Sage shook her head, biting her lip as she examined the bruise. "I don't think you should push it. Maybe we should get this checked out. It could be worse than we think."

Calista shook her head, her expression hardening. "No hospitals. I hate them." Her tone left no room for argument, and Sage knew better than to push.

"Okay," Sage said softly, letting out a small sigh. "But you have to let me help. You can't just power through this like you always do."

Calista leaned back against the headboard, her eyes closing for a moment as the ache in her ribs pulsed with each breath. "I don't want to feel helpless, Sage."

Sage's eyes softened as she shifted closer to Calista, resting a hand gently on her arm. "You're not helpless. You just had a really bad crash, Calista. It's okay to let someone take care of you for once."

For a moment, Calista didn't say anything. She wasn't used to this—being vulnerable, being taken care of. She had spent her entire life relying on herself, always pushing forward, never admitting when she was hurt or scared. But here, in the quiet of Sage's room, with the woman she loved looking at her with so much concern in her eyes, it was hard to keep up the act.

"Fine," Calista said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Just... don't baby me, okay? I hate that."

Sage smiled, her hand slipping down to give Calista's fingers a gentle squeeze. "I won't. But I'm still going to take care of you."

Calista let out a slow breath, nodding in resignation. She knew Sage wouldn't let this go, and maybe—just maybe—she didn't want her to.

Later that day, after Calista had rested for a few more hours, Sage quietly slipped out of the bedroom. She padded down the hall to the kitchen, her mind already buzzing with what she needed to do. If Calista refused to go to the hospital, then she'd do everything she could to make sure her recovery went smoothly.

She pulled open the kitchen cabinets, searching for painkillers, gauze, and anything else that might help. Sage wasn't a medical expert, but she knew enough to help with basic injuries, and she wasn't going to let Calista suffer in silence.

As she moved around the kitchen, the smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, mixing with the soft hum of the refrigerator. The quiet domesticity of it all was comforting in a way, even though the situation felt anything but normal. Sage's thoughts kept drifting back to the crash, to the moment she had seen Calista standing in the rain, looking so lost and broken.