"Don't you dare," I whisper, my throat tight, my vision blurring as I press down where I think the wound is. "Don't you dare leave me right now."
My hands are shaking again and my breathing is uneven…everything feels like it's slipping but I hold on to him and to this moment, because I'm not losing him. Not like this.
I grab his hand again tightly…..Too tight, probably, liqk if I loosen my grip even a little, he might slip away from me.
His skin is warm, but there's something off about it. Not the steady warmth I'm used to. It feels… fragile, likw it's at the edges.
And then, somehow, he smiles faintly
"Little spitfire…" His voice is rough and strained, almost gone. "You're… crushing my hand."
A broken laugh catches in my throat, turning into something ugly and wet as tears spill faster down my face.
Even now, even like this.
"I swear to God, Zane," I choke out, my voice shaking, "if you weren't bleeding out on the floor right now, I would smack you."
