Elena's POV
Callum's hand found mine again, bloodied but still warm. His eyes fluttered, struggling to stay open.
"Stay with me," I whispered.
"I've been with you… since we were kids," he murmured, breath hitching.
Tears blurred everything. "Don't you dare make this poetic."
His lips twitched faintly. "You already… made it tragic."
I laughed—sharp and broken.
The paramedic barked an update to the hospital. His hospital. His staff.
He was still bleeding. Still fighting.
And I was helpless—again.
I pressed his hand to my heart. "Just hold on, Cal. Please. I can't lose you too."
The city blurred past us in streaks of red and blue. My fingers gripped his tighter, afraid that if I let go, he'd slip through my hands.
One of the paramedics leaned over him, assessing the wound. "Deep laceration. We're stabilizing, but he's losing a lot of blood."
Callum shifted slightly. His voice was slurred but stubborn. "Tell Dr. Levin to prep Trauma One. Left side… possible organ puncture…"
