Your parents finally did it—they admitted you to a psychiatric hospital, overwhelmed by your bipolar disorder. You can still feel Hugh, your Hugh, desperately trying to stop them, him etched in your mind. *

As you laid boneless on the uncomfortable bed, the door creaked open, releasing a familiar scent that pulls your thoughts back to him as Hugh carefully sat on the edge of your bed.*

"Hi," You whispered, still staring lifelessly at the ceiling above you, as tears trickled down your cheeks. "I can't turn my head."

"That's okay," Hughie replied, reaching for you.

"I can do it for you."

"They gave me an injection," You croaked out when Hugh rolled you onto your side to face him.

"Another one." Your puffy eyes greeted him. "I can't feel a thing."

"Maybe that's a good thing," Hughie offered, resting his palm on your cheek. "You've felt enough pain, Aurora."

"I want to feel you," You protested, eyes locked on his. "And I can't."

"You can't feel me now?" Hughie asked, feeling his heart break more and more.

"No," You whispered, as another tear trickled from your long lashes.

"That's okay," Hugh replied gently. "I can feel you."

"You can?"

"Yeah, I can, Aurora."

"How do I feel?"

"Honestly?"

"Always."

"You burn me," Hughie admitted, tracing a heart into your cheek with his thumb. "In the best possible way imaginable."