I can't remember what I dream.
I feel like I might have been dancing and carefree. If I were, that freedom immediately vanishes with the waking world, as reality crushes down around me.
The smell of blood, the sound of the injured whimpering and moaning in pain, the grime of a hundred buildings' dust dried and caked on my skin.
Lucas is tending to a woman lying on a bed near me.
...Somehow it doesn't surprise me. The doctors were run so ragged and spread so thin, it was only a matter of time before Lucas would - before the part of him that is Viktor would be unable to resist helping in a more material manner.
His hair is plastered to his face, his sleeves rolled up. I don't know if he's slept at all, and I feel a stab of guilt at the realization I might have slept while he didn't.
His beautiful green eyes flicker up toward mine when I sit up, and he immediately smiles, tired but happy.
"Diane..."
