TW: child-abuse
Days later, I woke up to the faint buzz of fluorescent lights and the sterile scent of antiseptic stinging my nose. The pain in my side told me I was alive. Barely.
I turned my head and spotted Ivan slumped in a chair beside me, chin resting awkwardly on his chest as he dozed off. His legs were folded beneath him like a damn pretzel, and his brows were furrowed even in sleep, like he was arguing with someone in a dream.
I watched, unmoving, as his body tipped slightly forward. He jolted just as I reached out on instinct to catch him—only for him to blink awake the same second. I yanked my hand back, pretending it hadn't moved.
His eyes lit up like a fucking sunrise. "Kael!" he shouted, far too loud for a hospital ward, before lunging at me like a damn missile.
Pain shot up my side and I hissed, gritting my teeth. "Shit—get off, you idiot—"
