The words hang heavy between us. And for the first time, I find myself agreeing with Ezra. No one should know that Thiago is here and unconscious. Not after everything that’s been happening. Rowan starts listing policies, HIPAA violations, and every other rule she’s breaking just by being here—none of it matters.
Not in this place.
And definitely not right now.
Chapter Twenty- Three
Zayden
It’s almost dark out by the time everyone leaves. My arms are sore; it hurts to even lift them, let alone fight. Thankfully, the drip ended, and I’m able to rest. All while taking care of sleeping beauty—maybe I should kiss him. Maybe then he will wake up. And I can ask him what the fuck happened…
If I'm being honest, I’m kind of relieved that Ezra suggested I stay here with Thiago until he wakes up or sends Elijah to watch over him. Which should be soon, since my fight is tonight. There’s a nagging feeling that won’t fuck off, something doesn’t feel right. My stomach keeps rolling and dropping, and then there’s the weight that has settled right in the middle of my chest. And no matter how much I swallow… I can't seem to dislodge it. I didn’t like the idea of Elijah being the one to watch over him, but I hated the idea of him being alone and unaware more. Especially without knowing what exactly happened to him.
My hands go numb from the cold that bites through my flesh, my knees continue their tortured bouncing, and the anxiety isenough to suffocate me. I blow out a breath trying to anchor myself, and my eyes drop to his chest. The steady rhythm proves he’s still here… The dorm feels too quiet with Safra sleeping and without Nico. I stretch my arms above my head, feeling the deep ache in my muscles. I groan from the discomfort, arching my back to stop the stiffness that steadily thrums my lower back. A yawn escapes my lips, feeling the exhaustion creep up on me, and no matter the silence that surrounds me, I can’t quiet my mind.
I can’t stop thinking about the accident.
The worst part is sitting alone with all the could-haves and the unknown. If only the asshole would wake up and tell me what happened, it would at least ease my mind. Or so I hope…
Instead, I’m sitting in front of him, eyes tracing over the cuts and bruises that mar his flesh. There’s seven in total. One deep gash at his temple, red and angry from the stitches. Another six smaller ones scattered along his jaw and collarbone. The rest are bruises, ranging from violet to a sickly yellow. The lamp beside the bed hums, faintly throwing a weak halo over his face. My fingers twitch, desperate to trace every jagged edge that adorns his perfect features. I swallow hard, and still the weight in my chest doesn’t move. According to Rowan, he’s fine and just needs time to recover…
So why is he still sleeping?It’s been hours.
Seeing him so vulnerable and hurt makes me want to punch my fist through the wall, the anger that simmers quickly coming to a boil.
I let out a deep grunt when I rise to my feet and, once again, start to pace through the room, forming a pattern between sitting and pacing, until I break free from it. This time I stand beside the bed, leaning over him.
“Wake up,” I whisper, letting my hand travel towards his. “Just… wake up and annoy me. The silence is unbearable.”
My gaze roams over him, utterly aware of the different emotions that fight for dominance inside me. My senses begin to heighten, all too fucking aware of Safra. The urge to kiss him has me so close I can practically taste him, and fuck do I want to. I close my eyes, allowing my mind to fabricate a lie. One where he’s the water I’ve been too desperate to drink. My eyes flutter open, landing right on his lips, cracked and in need of moisture. One kiss won’t hurt. It’s only a small fix to stop the itch.
I lick my lips, when suddenly, his fingers curl around my wrist—weak but hard enough to let me know he’s aware.
“Easy… Ruas,” he murmurs, voice rough with sleep, yet maintaining his usual smugness. “If you’re gonna kiss me, at least warn a guy. I’m injured, not dead.”
I freeze.
Relief gathers inside me before imploding into every pore, lifting the weight that holds me down. I’m weightless and floating in the air. A flightless bird, ready to take off. That’s how I feel, and when I look down to meet his gaze, the intensity of his stare is enough to make my stomach flutter with millions of butterflies alongside the erratic beating of my heart. Heat works its way up my neck, and I notice the lopsided grin on Safra’s face.
I’m fucking blushing.
“It’s okay… I would have done the same.”
I clear my throat, shaking my head. “I wasn’t—”
“You were.” His lips twitch, but he tries to hide it. “Seriously, it’s okay. I get it. I’m irresistible.”
I let out a breath that’s a half-laugh that miserably fails to hide the emotion that is quickly overriding every wall I held locked in place. “You mean insufferable.”
He shakes his head, his hazel orbs dragging over my face. “No… I meant just that—irresistible.”
I roll my eyes, trying to hold back the urge to smile, and slowly, he chips at my armor. Or maybe it’s the fact that he’s alive andwell that has my chest expanding until I feel like it’s about to burst open.
“I would have to disagree.”
Thiago lets out a pained groan when I shift, trying to escape his grip, and even though the asshole just woke up and is injured, he holds on like he’s afraid to let go. “Are you sure about that? I mean, you’re still hovering like you’re about to climb into bed with me.”
My hand moves to his side, and without a word, I squeeze, making his grip tighten around me as he wheezes through the pain. I can’t help it, violence is truly my communication. It wasn’t hard enough to cause him any real damage, but enough to make him let go and laugh in pain until it fades.
