His arms fell too heavy to lift or raise.
His legs, too weak to be bent or move.
His breaths were shallow and weak.
"How do you feel?" She repeated.
His fingers ached as he clenched and pushed his fist against the bed below.
Such thin fingers he had.
"Fine... I feel fine..." The young man answered between tired pants.
In truth, he didn't feel fine at all.
"That's good. That's good." The red-haired woman said, a sliver of doubt in her voice.
He didn't feel fine, and she could tell.
The nurse lowered her gaze towards the board she held.
The pen in her hand moved.
The young man scratched his head.
He could only do so for a few seconds, as his thin bicep muscle quickly started cramping up.
"Agh..." The 17-year-old patient tried to hide it, but the nurse was a bit too good at picking up such things.
He knew she could tell.
After all, they had been together for six years already.
