the fire between us

chapter 48

⚠️ Content Warning: This narrative contains intense themes, including a car accident, panic attacks, anxiety, and physical injuries. Readers who may be sensitive to topics related to trauma, emergency situations, or mental health distress should proceed with caution. Please take care of your well-being, and feel free to pause or step away if needed. Your mental health is important. ⚠️

- 

"I'll wait out here, while you're with Nora," I say, my voice barely steady as I pull myself away from Marcus's touch. The weight of the conversation lingers between us, the emotions too raw, too heavy to bear right now.

Marcus looks at me, his brow furrowed with concern, but he doesn't push me. He just nods, his gaze softening. "Okay," he says quietly. "But I'll be back soon. Don't go anywhere, alright?"

I offer a small, broken smile, though my heart isn't in it. "I won't."

He squeezes my hand once more before heading back toward Nora's room, his steps heavy with the burden of everything we've been through. I watch him go, my chest tightening again. I know he's hurting too, but right now, it's hard to focus on anything beyond the overwhelming guilt gnawing at me.

As the door to Nora's room closes behind him, I sit back down, my hands trembling in my lap. The quiet of the hospital surrounds me, too sterile, too calm, like it's mocking the chaos spinning inside my mind.

I want to be supportive, I really do, but the flashback of waking up inside the car won't leave me. My heart races, thudding so hard in my chest that I can barely breathe. I try to steady myself, but my hands won't stop shaking. It's like I'm back there—trapped in that horrible silence, searching for any sound, any sign of life. My body feels heavy, weighed down by the memory, the guilt pressing hard against my ribs.

The hospital feels too bright, too calm, like it's mocking the chaos inside me. My throat tightens, the words I want to say stuck behind a wall of fear. I try to take a breath, but all I feel is that suffocating panic clawing at my insides, threatening to pull me under again.

I grip the edge of the seat, forcing myself to stay still, to keep from spiraling any further. But it's hard—so hard to pretend like I'm okay, like I can handle this. My heart won't stop racing, my chest feels too tight, and no matter how much I try, I can't shake the image of that broken car, the silence, the fear.

flashback: 

And then, darkness creeps in, like a heavy fog enveloping my mind, swallowing me whole. I feel myself slipping away, the pain in my body fading into a dull thrum as unconsciousness drags me under.

When I finally surface, I'm still in the car, the world around me disorientingly upside down. The faint, flickering light filters through the broken windows, casting eerie shadows that dance around me. Panic surges through me as I blink, trying to shake off the remnants of the haze that still clings to my thoughts.

As I struggle to catch my breath, darkness begins to creep in at the edges of my vision. I fight it, forcing myself to stay awake, but the weight of the world presses down on me. "Guys?" I call out weakly, my voice barely above a whisper. The silence is suffocating, and the only response is the eerie stillness of the car, my heart racing in my chest.

"Are you okay?" I ask, panic tightening my throat. There's no answer, only the faint echo of the accident ringing in my ears. I reach out instinctively, trying to feel for the others, but my limbs feel heavy, like they're made of lead. "Please be awake," I plead, desperation flooding my voice as tears threaten to spill.

Suddenly, the distant sound of sirens cuts through the haze, a wailing cry that seems to grow closer. It feels like a lifeline, a beacon of hope in this terrifying darkness. But as I strain to hear more, my vision blurs further, and the world around me starts to fade.