The world was a sweltering blur. Every step felt heavier than the last, and the throbbing pain in my leg had transformed into something sharper, almost unbearable. My hands trembled as I clutched Alex's arm for balance, my head tilted low to avoid his gaze. The last thing I wanted was to seem weaker than I already felt.
"Lean on me properly," Alex muttered, his tone clipped.
"I'm fine," I whispered, though the dizziness told me otherwise.
"No, you're not." His voice was firm, almost cold. "If you pass out, I'm not carrying you."
I nodded faintly and adjusted my grip on him, trying to put more weight on my good leg. I hated this—hated feeling like dead weight while Alex bore the brunt of it.
