Adrian stood up slowly, wincing as his battered body straightened. But when he turned to me, the expression on his face was oddly light, gentle, almost, like the storm he'd unleashed just moments ago had been neatly bottled back up.
"Don't worry about me," he said with a lopsided grin that didn't reach his eyes. "I'm already healing fine."
I wanted to argue, to ask him to let me help, to say something, anything, to ease the crackling silence between us, but before I could, he was already walking away, limping slightly as he disappeared around the corner.
Gone.
Again.
And I just stood there beneath the fading light, the leaves above me rustling in a cold wind that made the air feel thinner than before. I stayed rooted to the ground for a while, as if still carrying the weight of Adrian's story, his pain, and the horrifying truth it bled into me
But eventually, I forced myself to move. To breathe.
To go back.
Back to the hospital.
