Bella
I stayed with him all night.
I didn't move.
Not when the servants came to ask if I wanted dinner.
Not when they asked if I needed water.
Not when they asked if I wanted to bathe or rest.
I said no to all of it.
Food didn't matter.
Water didn't matter.
Nothing mattered except him.
I stayed on his bed, curled around him, holding him like if I let go he would slip away forever. My arms were tight around his body. My face pressed to his chest. I kept whispering the same words again and again, like a broken prayer.
"Please live. Please don't die. Please come back to me."
Logan never moved.
Not once.
He didn't open his eyes.
Didn't blink.
Didn't even twitch.
He was stiff, cold, heavy in my arms. His face had lost all its color. His skin looked wrong, like life was slowly leaking out of him. His chest was bare, and the dark black marks had spread even more, crawling like poison veins across his skin.
The only reason I knew he was still alive was his breathing.
