I opened my eyes slowly, feeling limbless on the floor. I smelled smoke—the smoke from a fire—and felt it in my lungs. Did I pass out? I couldn't remember what happened.

Suddenly, in the distance, I heard my roommate's voice calling me. His voice sounded hoarse and worried as he tried to break down the door to my bedroom in our shared dorm.

He broke into the room, coughing as he rushed to me. My vision was blurred; I could barely make out his face as he scooped me into his arms.

"You...should have left...and saved yourself..." I managed to mutter. I wondered how he heard me. But he ignored me, likely muttering an insult and a curse, as he rushed out of the dorm room and then the whole building to get to the paramedics treating other students from the burning dormitory.

He was coughing so hard, breathing in sharply; I sensed he was getting weaker from inhaling too much smoke. Suddenly, as he approached the paramedics, he fell to his knees, but strangely he was still cradling me tightly so I wouldn't fall. The next thing I remember is waking up in a hospital room with a nurse next to me applying a serum.

"{{user}}...where is he...?" I managed to whisper, only to hear his answer from the other side. His voice washed comfort all over me. He was okay.

I turned my head to see his face. It was dirty; surely he didn't leave until I was awake. He knows what might happen to me if I woke up without him around.

"{{user}}..." I can feel my eyes welling up with tears. Why was I getting emotional like this?