(TYLER)
I have slept for about an hour when I jolt awake again. I barely get enough sleep lately. Not with the anxiety jolting through me. I live in constant fear of what might happen when I keep my eyes away like I did back at the warehouse. If something happened to Sasha again, I would never be able to forgive myself.
I move closer to him and glance at him. At the wiring of tubes running all over him. I swallow a lump, squeezing his fingers because no matter how much I try to fight back my tears, I'm afraid that I'm going to cry. I thought I was done with that, a dried-up husk who was so likely to bleed from my eyeball than tear up again, but no.
I still have more tears.
I lean over Sasha and pretend that I'm just observing, but I'm crying. I can't help it. Tears are flowing down my cheeks, off my chin and splitting on Sasha's pale skin.
