Gasp—
The sound is raw, torn from a place deeper than my lungs. My eyes fly open, stinging, searching.
Bright.
Not the consuming, infinite black, but the hard, real brightness of bathroom tiles—and faint clouds of breath fogging the mirror as I struggled to breathe.
My breath saws in and out of my chest, uneven and frantic. My heart hammers against my ribs like a trapped bird, my whole body trembling with a violent, post-fall chill.
I look down.
Water. Clear, not black. A bathtub, not a void. I'm submerged, fully clothed, soaked through.
And I am not alone.
Two strong, gentle hands are holding me. Anchoring me.
I turn my head, the motion sluggish with shock.
Deniz is behind me in the water, cradling me against his chest. My back is pressed to the solid warmth of him, his legs bracketing mine.
His face, when I finally meet his eyes, is a portrait of pure, undiluted worry—brows drawn, lips parted, his dark gaze scanning mine with an intensity that feels like a lifeline.
