The wrong happy ending

serrated or sharpened?

WPOV

He awakens with stiff limbs and quiet groans. His head lazily lols my way and eyes drunk on medication squint at the person sitting next to him in the car seat. 

"Will?" He breaths out. 

The blanket I had tucked around him slides off his shoulders as he stretches his sour arms with a wince.

"Yeah it's me, how are you feeling?"

I aim my eyes back at the road as I make another turn to the left. The car is silent besides the raspy breaths of Nico. He squeezes his eyes closed while pressing the palm of his hand against his temple. 

"It feels as if someone is drilling holes into my skull," 

I give him a bitter little smile, "I'm sorry, I had to lower the morphine dose to have you a little bit more coherent." 

"Don't be sorry," he says, "it's not your fault."

My fingers dig into the wheel of the car as anger burns through me. I keep my eyes pierced onto the fading horizon as the skin over my knuckles turns white. It takes every ounce of control my body possesses for me, to not turn around the car and straight up crash the thing into Nathan Miller's cursed small house. 

"Maybe a little." I bring out through gritted teeth. 

I can feel Nico's hazed eyes rest on me, lighting up in the sun as lucid syrup. 

"I you weren't beaten up by him a few days ago, you wouldn't have fallen down that flight of stairs. I should have known. I should've paid more attention to you." 

His pupils grow a bit wider but no sound passes from his lips. 

"I am sorry," I turn my head his way, "and I should be." Eyes dart back to the window shield. 

The blood in his hair has crusted into a dark mess. I never noticed but some sticky strands even look brown in the melting sunlight. I try to imagine him with colour on his cheeks, a smile on his lips and freckles under his eyes instead of bags and I nearly tear apart from rage, knowing Nathan stole the light from his eyes, Nathan stole the warmth from his heart, he took all of that. And the fool I was, I let him. 

"I really said all of that, didn't I?" Nico whispers as he mentally recalls his own voice. 

I nod grimly. 

"I'm going to rip his limbs off." 

It frightens me how willing I am to fulfill that promise. Nico weakly turns his head away from me.

"I mean it. If that son of a bitch has the audacity to come even near you..." my throat constricts too much to finish the threat. The words boil in my mouth, I'm scared to spew them out. 

"Then what Will?" Nico asks tiredly. 

My fingers dig into the leather steering wheel until they're so numb, they might as well fall off. I glance sideways at his worn-out face. 

"You don't want to know," I shake my head, "believe me."

Nico shifts underneath his blanket, pulling his arms closer against his chest. His shirt is soiled from dried up blood stains, sticky and uncomfortable in the cloth against his pale skin. 

"Are you cold?" I try to keep the fury out of my voice. It's not meant for him, it's meant for the hand I'll make into a stone fist the moment Nathan fucking Miller dares to step a foot in my direction. 

The more I look at the purple yellow swirl on his cheek, the nastier the fire underneath my skin starts crackling. It burns so much, it devours me whole.