NOAH
I stood outside the room waiting helplessly as the doctors and nurses were doing their work. My mind went back a few minutes prior.
It was the same as ever, watching Cassian breathe while I worked. I had memorized the rhythm of his heart without ever meaning to, the short, steady beeps becoming the background noise to my entire existence.
You don't realize you're tracking a sound like that until the music suddenly changes.
The shift wasn't dramatic at first. A single digit on the top row staggered, dropping three points in the space of a breath, and then another number beside it flashed a dull yellow.
The steady beep-beep-beep altered its pattern, breaking into a frantic, uneven stutter. It sounded like a spoken sentence that had suddenly lost all its grammar, the words jumbling together in a panicked rush.
I looked up from my laptop, my eyes jumping to the glass screen, then down to Cassian's pale face, then back to the monitor.
