Chapter XIII - Maria

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I WOKE TO a bright room, with needles sticking out of my wrists and a nasal cannula helping me breathe. Did August survive? I can't lose him too, after everything we have been through together, I can't lose him too.
    I looked down at my left wrist to see it in a tight, white gauze wrap. My head and ribs aches, but it didn't matter. I don't care about any of it, all I cared about was August's safety. With cystic fibrosis, he was at higher risk with anything concerning his lungs.
   Through all of the experiments, torture, and small rebellions, I had survived. I had been in the face of death since I was a child, but through everything, I survived. Perhaps it was pure luck, or because I had been strong enough.
    My story hadn't ended at all of those prime opportunities in the past. My story was not going to end here and neither was August's.

*     *    *

The next time I woke up, August was sitting on the edge of my bed, stroking the side of my face.
"Hey," I croaked, turning my head to the right to look up at him. "What are you doing? How are you here?"
"I'm fine. I came to see you because I was worried," he said tenderly.
"Are you sure you're okay? The explosion, I didn't see you, I was so scared."
"Shh, I know. Everything is all right, I promise, we're okay. I have to go soon, but I wanted to see you."
I sat up in the bed and without thinking, pressed my lips to his. I realized what I was doing after a few seconds as I pulled back.
"I'm sorry . . . I'm so sorr—"
August took my face in his hands and kissed back, more certain than I had. After a moment, we pulled back and our foreheads touched.
"I love you," he said through a heavy breath.
"So much."
A nurse came to the door and gestured toward the hallway. He planted a kiss on the top of my forehead before following her down the hallway.

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