Chapter 307
307:
Worry pinched Chloe’s features.
“Are you sure you can manage on your own?”
“Yes. There’s a bed here for me, so I can get some sleep if I need it.” A soft smile appeared on Christina’s face.
Ralphy chimed in, his tone supportive.
“Alright, we’ll go for now. I’ll drop by later so you can take a break.”
Earlier, Samuel had stopped by to check on Dylan. He had run into Christina and Calvin outside and left reassured after hearing that Dylan was stable.
“Sounds good,” Christina replied.
Ralphy gently nudged Chloe.
“Come on, let’s go.”
Chloe looked back, reluctant to leave.
“Christina, we’re heading out. If anything happens, promise you’ll call us.”
Christina gave a simple nod.
“I will.”
The room settled into peaceful silence once their footsteps faded away, with only the steady hum of medical machines breaking the quiet.
With one last glance at Dylan, Christina prepared to rest, shifting onto the other bed—only to freeze when a soft, unexpected voice drifted through the room.
“Christina.” Dylan’s voice, soft as a midnight breeze, whispered her name into the stillness.
“Christina,” he called again, low and hoarse, as if reaching for her from the depths of a dream. His eyes remained closed, his expression tense. A crease marked his brow, and his head shifted slightly on the pillow, restless and uneasy, as if trapped in a troubled dream.
The sight drew Christina forward before she could think. She slipped into the chair beside him and took his cold hand in both of hers, holding it with fierce tenderness.
Once more, Dylan’s voice, thin and restless, echoed softly near her ear.
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“Christina.”
“I’m right here,” she whispered, leaning closer. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”
Suddenly, his fingers clamped down on hers, desperate—clinging. His agitation began to ease, his shoulders losing some of their tension as he latched onto the sound of her voice. Gradually, his breathing steadied, though the furrow between his brows lingered stubbornly.
Christina lifted one hand and, with infinite care, stroked his forehead, gently smoothing away the tension.
At last, his brow relaxed beneath her touch, and his grip loosened, the fight ebbing from his body as he drifted into calmer dreams.
Christina listened to the steady rhythm of his breathing and assumed the nightmare had finally passed. She tried to ease her hand free, moving slowly so as not to wake him.
But before she could slip away, Dylan’s grip tightened suddenly, his fingers clinging desperately—as if terrified she might disappear.
“Don’t go… Please, don’t go…”
.
.
.