𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓𝟑

744 29 10
                                        

𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐤 |
𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞

𝐈 𝐖𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐔𝐏 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐋𝐘, my body stiff and aching all over, the hard linoleum floor pressing into every inch of my spine

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

𝐈 𝐖𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐔𝐏 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐋𝐘, my body stiff and aching all over, the hard linoleum floor pressing into every inch of my spine. My back throbbed, and something sharp pinched in my side when I tried to move. It took me a second to remember where I was. Why I was there. But then I felt it—his hand still in mine.

I hadn't let go. Even in sleep, even on the goddamn floor beside his bed, I'd stayed there. Holding on like my life depended on it. Maybe it did.

I blinked away the blurriness, letting the sterile white of the hospital room settle into focus. Machines humming. The steady rhythm of the monitor beside me. Rafe's monitor. Every beep a reminder: he's alive. He made it through the surgery.

But he still hadn't woken up.

I shifted, wincing as pain shot through my side, the spot where the bullet had torn through me. The IV line tugged slightly as I sat up straighter. The ache in my back screamed, but I didn't care. I would've laid on broken glass if it meant staying beside him.

Then I heard it.

My name.

"Catalina?"

Soft. Hoarse. Barely more than a breath.

My heart stopped.

I froze. My head snapped up so fast my vision went dark for a second. But when it cleared—

Two blue eyes.

Familiar. Blurry with pain. But unmistakably his.

"Rafe," I breathed, my voice cracking around his name.

He was awake.

Oh my God.

He was awake.

I was on my feet in an instant, stumbling upright like a sleepwalker breaking free of a nightmare. I didn't care that my stitches pulled or that my IV stand clattered behind me. I didn't care about the pain. All I could see was him. Those tired, broken eyes. The bruises across his face. The way his mouth twitched into the smallest smile when he saw me.

"God, I thought I'd never see you again," I whispered, tears already flooding down my cheeks.

I cupped his face gently, brushing my thumbs along the edge of a swollen bruise on his jaw. My hands shook. I couldn't stop them. I kissed his forehead, then his temple, then the corner of his mouth—soft, careful, like he was something fragile. Something sacred.

And when I kissed his lips, really kissed them, I felt him melt against me.

He exhaled slowly, like he'd been holding his breath for days and only now was letting it go.

𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐤 | 𝘙𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘊𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘯Where stories live. Discover now