"Isabelle?" He called out, his voice soft. If I hadn't seen it myself, I'd have thought I had been hallucinating.
"Come here," he added.
He tilted his head at the man he was speaking to. "Leave us, Alex."
The man—Alex—left us, the door clicking shut behind me.
For a moment, no one spoke; we just stared at each other.
Cassian sat propped up against the hospital bed, one arm wrapped in a dark brace, a faint line of dried blood still visible near his temple despite being cleaned.
A monitor beeped steadily beside him, but it did nothing to soften the atmosphere.
If anything, it made it worse. Because he didn't look like a patient. He looked like a man interrupted.
His blue eyes locked onto mine, intense and unreadable. He extended his uninjured arm toward me.
"Come here, Isabelle." I hesitated for half a second before I finally took a step forward. Then another, stopping a few feet from the bed.
