His Immortal | Marcus Pike

34

As the evening progressed, Marcus grew more and more fatigued. The painkillers he had been given made him groggy, and the exhaustion from his ordeal finally caught up to him. He was lying on the couch, his eyes drooping heavily as he tried to stay awake. However, his body was betraying him, and he was fighting a losing battle against sleep.

I noticed his struggle to stay awake, his eyelids struggling to stay open as the painkillers and exhaustion pulled him under. I knew he was tired and needed rest, but I also knew he was stubborn and reluctant to admit his need for sleep. "Marcus," I said gently, my voice soft but commanding. "You're exhausted. You need to get some sleep."

Marcus grumbled in protest, his stubborn streak resisting my words. "I'm f-fine," he mumbled, his voice slurred and drowsy. "I can stay awake."

I raised an eyebrow at his stubbornness, a hint of amusement in my eyes. "No, you're not," I gently insisted. "You look like you're about to pass out any second now."

Marcus let out a sleepy sigh, his reluctance clear. He knew I was right, but he didn't want to admit it. "I can handle it," he muttered stubbornly, though his eyes were struggling to stay open.

I shook my head, my tone gentle yet firm. "No, you can't," I said. "You've been through a lot, you need to rest and let your body recover. You can't do that if you're awake and fighting the effects of the painkillers."

Marcus grumbled again, but this time the sound was more of resignation than protest. He knew deep down that I was right and his body was finally overpowered by his stubbornness. "Fine," he mumbled, his voice tired but acquiescent. "But you'll stay here with me, right?"

"Of course I will," I replied gently.

Marcus's expression softened at my response, a weary smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He relaxed the muscles in his body, finally abandoning his futile battle against sleep. "Good," he murmured, his voice low and drowsy. "Don't wanna be alone."

I smiled gently at his words, understanding the vulnerability underlying his usually gruff demeanour. I grabbed a nearby blanket and carefully draped it over him, ensuring his wounded shoulder was comfortably cushioned. "I'm not going anywhere," I reassured him softly. "Get some sleep, I'll be right here."

Marcus's eyes fluttered shut, his body sinking deeper into the couch. The effects of the painkillers and exhaustion were finally taking hold, drowning him in a sea of sleep. "Thanks," he mumbled once more, his voice barely a whisper. The lines in his face relaxed slightly, his usual gruff expression replaced by one of vulnerable tranquillity

I watched as he finally succumbed to sleep, his breaths deepened into soft, steady rhythms. I pulled up a nearby chair and sat beside the couch, my eyes never leaving his sleeping form. I knew he was a tough, independent guy, but even he needed the comfort and reassurance of someone by his side during his time of recovery. And I was more than happy to be that person for him.

The room was quiet, the only sound being the steady rhythm of his breaths and the occasional soft rustling of the blanket as he shifted in his sleep. I stayed by his side, your presence a silent vigil, ensuring he knew he wasn't alone despite his vulnerability.

Hours passed, and Marcus continued to sleep soundly, his body finally getting the rest it needed. I watched him silently, occasionally readjusting the blanket or adjusting his pillow to ensure his wounded shoulder was supported.

As the night wore on, I felt my eyelids growing heavy, the pull of sleep tugging at my mind. But I resisted the urge to doze off, determined to keep watch over Marcus as he slept. Despite my efforts to remain awake, my eyelids slowly drooped lower and lower. The silence of the night and the peacefulness of Marcus's sleep seemed to lull me into a state of drowsy tranquillity.

Eventually, the fight against sleep became too much for me and my head began to nod slightly. I tried to stay focused on Marcus, but my body was betraying me, demanding rest after the long day I had.

I fought against the growing exhaustion, blinking rapidly to try to keep my eyes open, but it was a losing battle. The comforting rhythm of Marcus's breaths and the soft shadows dancing in the room slowly pulled me into a light doze.

As I dozed off, my head drooping onto Marcus's torso, something stirred within him. Even in his sedated state, his instincts to protect and care for I was ingrained deeply within him. He shifted slightly, instinctively trying to find a way to draw me closer. My proximity to him, my head resting on his body, tugged at something deep in his chest.

Though his movements were clumsy and uncoordinated due to the painkillers and sleep, he managed to carefully adjust his position, creating more space on the couch for me beside him. He longed to reach out and draw me into his arms, but with his wounded shoulder, he couldn't manage it without causing himself pain.

Despite his limitations, he continued to try to manoeuvre his body, his desire to hold me and keep me close overpowering his physical restrictions. The pain in his shoulder was a constant reminder of his incapacity, but his need for my presence overshadowed any discomfort.

Finally, he managed to create enough space for me to comfortably fit beside him on the couch. He glanced down at me, watching as I slept with my head on his torso. His features softened, the gruff, independent agent replaced momentarily by the vulnerable man who cared deeply for me. Despite his situation, he felt a strange sense of contentment at my nearness.

He lay there, the pain in his shoulder temporarily forgotten, his mind consumed by the thought of me sleeping beside him. He wanted to reach out and hold me, to let his fingers gently entwine with mine, but his body forbade it. Instead, he simply watched me sleep, his eyes tracing the gentle lines of my face.