Marian's POV
Everything was heavy.
My body. My thoughts. The air itself.
I was sinking, trapped beneath layers of exhaustion and something darker, something suffocating. It felt like I had been floating in a void for an eternity, tethered only by a distant warmth.
A voice.
Aiden.
His voice was the only thing that reached me through the haze, a steady thread pulling me back toward consciousness. I followed it blindly, clawing my way through the weight pressing me down.
Then, finally—light.
It was faint at first, a flickering presence behind my closed lids. Then came the feeling—soft sheets, the dull ache in my limbs, the warmth of a hand wrapped around mine.
I knew that hand.
Familiar. Firm. Steady.
Aiden.
The darkness wavered, cracked.
"I need you to wake up, Marian," his voice murmured, low and raw. "I need you to look at me. To yell at me for not eating. To call me an idiot for sitting here for days straight."
