"In a room full of people, she was the only one I couldn't stop watching."
—Dylan Reed
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Dylan's Point of View
Something was changing. I could feel it in the silence of the hospital room, in the way Ava's chest rose and fell beside me. She had fallen asleep shortly after having her meal, and the steady hum of machines filled the air with a rhythm that was both calming and tormenting. The fluorescent lamp overhead bathed her in a pale glow, while the city beyond the window blurred into streaks of silver and blue.
I leaned closer, unable to resist the itch to reach for her. My hand brushed against her cheek, fingers sliding to tuck a stray strand of chestnut hair behind her ear. Her lashes fluttered at the touch. Her skin was warm against my palm, softer than I imagined, and even in her sleep she looked breathtaking—perfect, in a way that stirred something I wasn't prepared to name.
