The car veered dangerously to the side, tires screeching against the asphalt. My pulse pounded in my ears. Everything was happening too fast.
Before I could even process it, our car crashed.
I felt my body being thrown forward, the world spinning as the windshield exploded into tiny shards.
For a brief moment, there was only weightlessness.
And then, darkness swallowed me whole.
When I regained consciousness, I could feel the ache in my body, a dull, persistent pain radiating from my head down to my limbs.
A thick brace supported my neck, an oxygen mask covered my face, and the weight of an IV tugged at my arm.
But what caught my attention first was the warmth of my hand. Someone was holding it.
I forced my heavy eyelids open, my vision hazy as I turned my head slightly, expecting to see Raphael.
And there he was. Sitting beside my hospital bed, his face bruised but otherwise unharmed, save for a few minor abrasions.
He was relaxed, seated comfortably, a stark contrast to my state.
But, since the anger still coiled in my stomach, with the last of my strength, I pulled my hand away from his grasp.