LIAM
I hold a passed-out rain in my arms.
My hands are shaking even as I pick him up and carry him off the bathroom floor. His clothes are dripping, so I gently place him at the foot of the bed, take as many towels as I can find, and start to undress him.
His skin is searing, burning up and I immediately know he has a fever.
I focus on ensuring he is out of the wet clothes, making him comfortable and wrapped up in the soft fluffy towels before I carry him and tuck him under the sheets.
I need to keep busy, to avoid thinking of what I just walked into, so I tidy up and look for a drip that I once used when I was so drunk I had to get it out of my system for half a day.
It will help to clear off the bane in his blood, and the healing will speed up.
"Fuck!" I curse when I can't stop my shaking hands even for a second to pierce the sharp needle on his wrist.
