Something holds me still.
No—
not something.
Someone.
Warmth.
Familiar.
Safe.
Russ.
The name settles before I can even think it.
My eyes try to open.
Fail.
Try again.
This time—
they crack.
Just barely.
Blurred shapes.
Light.
Movement.
Then—
him.
Close.
Watching me.
Like he’s been there the whole time.
“Hey,” he says softly.
My throat feels raw.
Dry.
“…you…”
The word barely forms.
But he hears it.
Of course he does.