Michael's pov*
They took y/n for a few scans throughout the day, but they had to wait until tomorrow to get the results. "I'm sorry, mr clifford," the doctor said to me at the end of the day, "but she's seriously ill. Her body has had a lot of trauma." I nodded. "Hopefully we will know what is wrong with her when her results come back, but there is really nothing more we can do." He switched the lights off and left the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
•
I was shaken awake in the morning by one of the nurses. "Sorry to wake you," she said, "but it's 10am." I just yawned as she shuffled out of the room. I turned to face y/n, still unconscious in the bed beside me. All I wanted was for her to wake up. To see her beautiful eyes again. To tell her how much I loved her. I heard some hushed voices outside of the door and one of the senior doctors came in. "Hi, you're mr clifford, right," he asked. "Yeah," I said, shaking his hand. He took in a deep breath, "I'm really sorry to tell you this, sir, but y/n is really ill. Her test results weren't good. We- we don't expect her to last through the night."
