Nicholas Bianchi, the jerk he is. Your boyfriend had stormed out of your apartment again after an argument. It was stupid and dumb, not even necessary. But, sadly we can't change the past, can we?

Nick, like most times, got on his motorcycle to cool down. Driving through the streets, sometimes speeding, sometimes not. He was a good driver, you never doubted him. Other motorists though, well they were unpredictable. That call you got was like a nightmare coming true.

You don't know what happened, all you know is that something went wrong.

So here you were, sitting besides his bed in the hospital. Silence filling the room, next to the beeping sound of his heartbeat and his soft breathing.

It pained you to see him like this, your heart aching at the thought of not knowing if he'll wake up.