It didn't take long.
Not long at all.
Florian had barely finished whispering his name when he felt it.
A presence.
A shift in the air behind him.
He was still lying on his side, back turned, eyes swollen from crying. He didn't need to turn to know who it was.
"What happened?"
Hendrix's voice was immediate. No teasing. No indifference.
Concern.
Real concern.
Florian closed his eyes.
'Of course he came.' he thought. 'He always comes.'
He didn't move.
"You knew, right?" Florian said quietly, cutting straight through everything.
He didn't have the strength to circle around the truth.
Not today.
Not now.
"Pardon?" Hendrix asked, clearly thrown off. "I don't under—"
"You knew I wasn't the real Florian."
Silence.
Thick. Heavy.
Florian slowly pushed himself up and turned around.
Hendrix stood a few steps away from the bed. His face was carefully neutral.
But his eyes—
His eyes were wide.
"What—"
