Silver Rain

Chapter 40

It took Olivia—what felt like forever—to calm down. She was not the type to cry or break down so easily. She was always the one to hold it together, to stay strong when everything around her was falling apart. But this time, everything had hit her at once—the fear, the uncertainty, the overwhelming need to find Felix—and it had broken through her defenses in a way nothing else ever had.

She hated it. Hated feeling vulnerable, hated how much she needed someone else, hated how Felix had seen her like this.

But as she lay there in his arms, her breathing finally evening out, Olivia couldn't deny the strange sense of peace that had settled over her. It was as if her body had needed that release, and now that the storm had passed, she felt lighter. The weight she'd been carrying around—the fear of losing him, the guilt of their last fight—had begun to lift.

Still, the vulnerability lingered, gnawing at the edges of her mind.

The doctors and nurses lingered, which is why Olivia suspected that she calmed down quicker than she thought. She peeked over Felix's broad shoulders, her squinted eyes scanning the room. The doctors and nurses hovered near the door, their gazes filled with a mixture of concern and caution. They were watching her carefully, perhaps unsure of what to do next after witnessing her frantic breakdown and the sudden surge of strength she'd displayed earlier.

Or it may have been something else. It was like they were waiting for something else.

The sharp antiseptic smell from that stillness clung to the room, but now it wasn't just that—it was everything. The faint scent of floral soap on one of the nurses, the sterile metal of the bed railing, even the faintest whiff of fruit. The smells clashed together, and she could feel her head spinning as they assaulted her all at once.

The sounds weren't much better. She could hear the distant beep of machines in other rooms, the whisper of shoes across the hallway tiles, and even a muffled conversation happening far down the hall. And the bright over head lights did nothing to quell the splitting headache behind her eyes. The overload made her chest tighten again, and she had to swallow down the rising panic.

She pressed her forehead against Felix's chest, trying to drown out everything except the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. But even that seemed too loud.

Too sharp, too loud, too much.

In a way, she preferred the stillness over whatever hell she was enduring now. Oliva felt Felix's muscles shift as he moved slightly, probably sensing her tension, and even that was too much. She wanted to scream, to escape from her own skin.

"Felix," she croaked, her voice barely audible, strained from the pressure building inside her. Strained from screaming and not using her voice. "I... I can't..."

"I know," his voice was a roar in her ears. A fresh smell of metallic blood filled the air. She tried everything in her not to retch.

It was as if the world had become too vivid, too harsh, all at once. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block it out, but that only seemed to make it worse.

Her head jerked upright and watched as a doctor moved towards the cabinets. His scrubs sounded like sandpaper against her skin, the clinking of instruments like shattering glass. Olivia winced, burying her face deeper into Felix's chest, but even his familiar cologne—normally so comforting—was suddenly overpowering, wrapping around her in a thick haze that made it hard to breathe.

Her pulse quickened again. She didn't know what was happening, but the sensory overload was unbearable. She clenched her fists, fingers gripping Felix's shirt like a lifeline, as the sounds, sights, smells, and even the feel of his shirt against her skin grew too intense.