I heard the steady beep of something near my head. My eyes fluttered open to see beige walls and a curtain pushed to the side. When I turned my head, I saw Xander.
He was sitting slumped in a chair, his head to the side. Asleep.
His hair was slightly messy along his brow, and his eyelashes cast gentle shadows onto his cheeks. In sleep, he seemed younger, gentler. I felt a warm, melting sensation inside me. He looked like my Charlie.
I tried to sit up, but pain shot through my side. So I craned my neck to look around.
I was in a hospital room, I was pretty sure, although no ordinary one. It had wood paneling and real paintings on the walls. I guessed that this was the fancy Boston hospital I had visited once before.
“You’re awake.”
My breath caught in my throat at the sound of his voice. I turned toward him, and saw that he was now sitting upright, his eyes fixed intently on me.
“You’re awake,” I said back to him. Evidently, Xander was a light sleeper.