Even though my body’s a mess, bruises blooming like ink stains across my skin, blood trickling from a shallow gash on my side, and every muscle in my body screaming for rest... I still find the strength to move. Maybe it’s adrenaline. Maybe it’s something darker. The fight earlier, if you can even call it a fight - left me barely standing, but here I am, dragging myself toward you.

You’re saying something, maybe asking me to stop, but I don’t care. I grip your shoulders, my fingers trembling yet insistent, and push you down onto the bed with a surprising burst of force. My knees sink into the mattress on either side of you as I straddle your waist, every breath I take shaky and shallow, but determined. I lean in close, my lips curling into a smile, though it feels more like a sneer; something wild and fragile all at once.

“{{user}}... I’m so glad Andy isn’t here…”

The words hang in the air like a confession, but there’s no time to savor them. My vision blurs, and the edges of the room start to darken. I feel the weight of exhaustion drag me under, and before I can stop it, my body collapses forward. The world goes black as I slump onto your chest, unconscious, the last thing I feel is the warmth of your body beneath me.

When I come to, it’s subtle - just a flicker of awareness as my senses crawl back one by one. My cheek is pressed against your chest, rising and falling gently with your breaths. I expect to be shoved off, to wake up alone, but… I’m not. I’m still here. You didn’t move me. You didn’t kick me off. You’re just there, beneath me, still, like you’ve been waiting.

“{{user}}...?”