The white wooden door to Adrian's room was closed. Almost forbidding me to open it, to intrude. It felt late, perhaps one or two am and all the lights in the house were shut off. There was only the light of the moon filtering through the window at the end of the hall casting an eerie and pale blue glow that only served to unsettle me further.

As I stood before the door, my bare feet on the cold wooden floor, my palms began to sweat. My heart beat fast and loud, like the hooves against a wild cut terrain. My breath came out in shallow gasps and it became nearly impossible to catch a full breath. A thread of fear began to spread from my spine. Something in the very core of my being told me that if I entered that room, my life would be over.

There was a sound in the distance, sirens calling me…No, not sirens calling me…they were the sirens of an ambulance. Flash of red and blue lights….the sirens got louder and louder still and something wet began to seep through my toes and onto my feet. Something dark and red.

I wrapped my hand around the knob and quickly threw open the door. The room was just as I remembered it from the last time I was here. It was in wild state of disarray; clothes thrown on the floor, the broken lamp shattered a couple of inches from the bedside table it had fallen from, curtains pulled in rage from the window. But unlike last time, the floor was flooded with red liquid that smelled of iron and salt. And as I walked in, the red grew higher, like the tide rising at the end of the day.

Somebody slept on the bed. No, not somebody, Adrian. I recognized too well the lines of his naked torso, the long and strong denim clad legs. I recognized the buzzed golden hair and the beard I had last seen on him.

"Adrian?' I said, realizing that I could no longer hear the sirens in the background. The ambulance wasn't coming. 'They won't need to', said a voice in my head.

Adrian didn't answer. As I came closer to the bed, certain things became much more obvious. His skin didn't have the lightly golden complexion that I knew to be his, instead it was a pale color tinted almost blue and his full lips were a deeper blue. But worst of all, his chest wasn't rising…or falling. It wasn't moving. And when my knees touched the bed, I saw that his eyes were open, staring vacantly at the ceiling. There was a small red wound on his temple.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no…Baby, no, no, no…" I said over and over again, unable to form a different word. Unable to believe he had done it.

Saying the same word over and over like a prayer, I touched his cheek. And when my fingertips came in contact with his ice cold skin, I was flooded with a pain so enormous and primal, I wanted to howl to the wind, I wanted to tear the skin from my bones and the heart from my chest…I wanted to lay down and die-

I sat up in a movement so fast and violent that I banged my elbow against something hard, causing me to groan in pain. When I opened my eyes, I looked down at my elbow and found it strange that I was not in my bed. Instead I was lying in a dark green leather recliner. And the floor under it was covered in white and clean tiles that gave it the illusion of coldness. I looked up at the large window with the curtains wide open, giving view of the dark summer night. But these images didn't make sense to me. My heart was beating fast and it was deafeningly loud in my ears. All I could think about were the sightless blue eyes of Adrian in that horrible dream.

There was wetness on my cheeks and when I lifted my hands to dry it away my hands shook and my breath hitched.

He's not dead. He's not dead, I whispered over and over again, trying to reassure myself that it had only been a nightmare. That nightmares did have the power to make you feel pain, fear and grief. But in the end they were intangible, not real and when the sun rose, they would fade.

I closed my eyes attempting to center myself, to try to get it together but when I did, I saw his sightless eyes and then I was in that room, again, as a single shot reverberated in the night. I was in that room as Sherriff Collado's bullet tore through Adrian's arm, causing him to loose his hold on the gun he had pointed at his temple.

Yes, that's what happened, I told myself. And such a terrible thought helped me relax. It caused my hands to become fairly steady and somewhat tamed the fierce beating of my heart until I could hear other sounds, such as the steady beeping of the heart monitor.

I angled my body enough in the recliner to have clear view of the man lying on the hospital bed. My eyes locked themselves on his chest, focusing solely on its rise and fall, reassuring myself that he breathed. That the machine did not lie to me and he was really alive.

Adrian's torso was naked and his injured arm was in a pale blue sling. Luckily the bullet had gone through the fleshier part of the arm, sparing the bone and any main muscles but unluckily it hadn't gone completely through, requiring surgery to pull the bullet. Surgery had been over fourteen hours ago and he still had not woken.

I knew that this medically induced sleep was the longest sleep he's had in a very long time. Though he was pale and there wires running from his left arm and chest, the shadows under his eyes had vanished almost completely.

I looked up at the white clock on the wall. The black hands marked a quarter past eight and I remembered the last time I had looked at it, it had been nearly five pm. I must have fallen asleep then.

I stood up slowly from the recliner and began walking towards the bed, I was uncertain of what I wanted to do. I only knew that I wanted to see him closely, to touch his cheek, to feel its warmth under my fingers. But I would be content with only watching his chest rise and fall, if I had to. Just until I could shake the dream away completely.

I looked down at his sleeping form. I don't know for how long I stared at the subtle movements of his chest as it gathered and released each breath, the shifting of his eyes under his eyelids fringed in golden lashes, at the twitching of his thumb on his left hand, the light golden hair covering his chest that I knew trailed further down to his stomach and further still. I looked at him as if I had never seen him before and needed to memorize every line of his face, of his body. I looked at him until tears began gathering in my eyes. Tears of relief that he was still alive.

A few seconds later his eyes began to shift under his lids more than they previously had. Little by little the pace of his breath began to change to that of a person awake. His gold lashes parted and disoriented eyes peered through, looking around sleepily. He closed his eyes and then a few seconds later he opened them again. They were still disoriented but slightly more focused than they had been. He glanced around the room slowly and in between blinks.

Then his eyes fell on me and I felt the breath leave my body.

"Jenny," he whispered, his voice roughened by sleep.

"Hi," I said, smiling through tears.

"You are crying," he whispered.

"I'm not," I said quickly wiping my tears away. "I'm just…happy to see you."

Adrian didn't say anything. Instead he stared off at the window, his gaze becoming distant and cold.

"Do you remember what happened?" I asked, unsettled by the lack of anything in his eyes.

"Yes," he whispered, allowing the word to die out and silence to take over again.

"How are you feeling?"

"Okay," he replied and I simply nodded.

"Your mom went home. She should be back in a little bit," I said awkwardly attempting to fill in the cold silence. He nodded at my words, but didn't comment.

"Okay," I said, feeling as if I had done something wrong. "Do you need anything?"

"Yes, actually. I need you to go," Adrian whispered turning to look at me with cold and vacant eyes.

"I'm sorry?" I asked confused at the sudden words.

"You need to go," he repeated before turning away again and looking out that damned window.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't want to see you here. I want you to go…I want you to go. Don't come back." He said in a cold and low voice.

"I don't understand-"

"I can't…I can't look at you right now, Jennifer. I can't look at you without hating you." His words weren't loud, or angry, they were just frigid and sharp. Like a dagger meant to cut clean straight to the heart. Involuntarily, I took a small step back from their blow.

"So I need you to leave. Don't come back."

"Why?" I whispered still not understanding it all.

"Why?" he asked, finally turning enough to look at me. His eyes cut straight through mine and his lips twisted into a bitter and cruel smile. "Because I can't even think about how I could sleep with someone like you…some trash who thinks she's too good for anyone…some whore and not be worst off than when I started. I'm disgusted that I stopped so low to believe I loved you."

"Adrian…I don't understand…"

"If I could erase you from my life, I would," he said. And those words hurt more than any other words ever spoken to me. My eyes began to water and dryness began to settle in my throat. I couldn't form a word; I could only open my mouth and stand there like a fish out of water.

"Don't…Don't embarrass yourself by crying. Just get the fuck out of here," he snapped cruelly.

"You said last night you loved me," I said fiercely, remembering those words he spoke in grief.

"Not as much as I hate you right now," he said his face turned away again. But this time there was no vacantness. There was disgust and something else, something that he hid too quickly for me to make out. Leaving its whiff like a familiar scent tied to a memory one couldn't precisely remember.

"Look at me, Adrian," I said through gritted teeth. "Look at me."

Needless to say, he didn't look at me. Instead continued to look over the distance as if he couldn't bear to look at me.

"Leave, Jenny."

"Why are you doing this to me?" I asked, tears falling from my eyes. "I have to watch as you…you try to…and you…you tell me that I need to leave and you say those mean things…You sit there with a straight face and tell me…You don't know what you do to me, Adrian. You don't know."

"I will call the nurses if I have to, Jennifer," he said in a tone that chilled the blood in my veins and gutted me where I stood.

"Oh, god," I said as my fists tightened by my side and my body tensed in anger. "I hate you. I hate you. I hate you," I said shoving him with the last word, forgetting in my anger his injury. He didn't cry out, but his jaw tensed and I knew I had caused him pain. And all I could think was that it served him right.

Not caring to look at his turned and stoic face, I turned my back on him but not before I whispered in anger, "Go to hell." Then I left the room, wishing I could slam the door but knowing that I shouldn't in a hospital.

I left the room and walked down the hallway in angry strides. I think I must have passed the same corridors three times before I finally found the elevators that would lead me downstairs. As I waited for one pair of those steel elevators door to open, mu anger began to dissipate.

You can't change your mind overnight when you love someone. That's not the way things work. Even when they have committed the most offensive things against you, the love still remains even as hate and reason began to take over. I began running what Adrian had just said in my mind over and over. The anger and disgust behind his words…The shame. That's what I had seen in his face.

"Jesus Christ," I whispered as it all began to make sense to me. I had seen him at his lowest; I had seen his face before he attempted to pull that trigger. Yes, he felt hate and disgust. And shame. But it was all aimed at himself. I knew him too well for the hurtful words to hold value once my anger and their initial shock began to vanish. I knew that he didn't want me or anybody to see him in such a pitiful state. He would try to push me away. He would growl and bark like a rabid animal all to hide his state of being.

The elevator dinged and the pair of steel doors before me opened. But instead of getting on, I turned around and taking a deep breath, I made my way back towards his room.

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I took a deep breath and then opened the door, closing it cautiously behind me, careful again, not to slam it in frustration.

Adrian was still lying on the bed. He hadn't move since I had left, his gaze just as distant. But something had changed. His eyes were red, as were the tip of his nose and mouth. And his eyelashes were wet. He appeared as if he had been crying.

There was also another man in the room. He was tall and broad, with a body that spoke of football in his college years. He was middle aged, with light brown hair salted in grey and dark blue scrubs that made him fit right in the hospital.

"Who are you?" I asked, turning towards the man.

"He's my babysitter," whispered Adrian from the bed. "Suicide watch," he said, bitterly. The man simply nodded.

I walked towards the bed once again and this time I sat on the edge, by his left side.

"Why are you still here?" Adrian asked, looking at me wearily.

"Can you give us a moment?" I asked the man in the scrubs.

"Yes," the man said. "I'll be right outside," he said and he didn't have to add the words, Call if you need me. They were very present.

"You really have to ask why I'm still here?" I asked Adrian when the man left, looking down at his face, which was slightly turned away from me.

He didn't say anything so I continued, "What you said earlier? That was mean. And I expect an apology. Some flowers would be nice too…But you can sit there, and you can growl and yell and curse all the hell you want, but I'm not leaving you. I'm not walking away from you. Not now. Not until you tell me you don't love anymore and you mean it….Do you I love you more than I've ever loved anyone and…I need you. I need you, Adrian."

He didn't look at me, he didn't even move. But I saw as tears began to roll down the corner of his eyes and get lost into his buzzed hair. I saw his jaw clench and I knew he hated himself for crying. I turned his hand, the one that lay at his side and covered it with my own. I threaded my fingers through his. As tears rolled down his face, as he cried but didn't utter a single word. But violent shudders began to shake through his body. And I knew he was weeping, he just refused to let out.

"Slide over, baby." I said, my heart breaking even further as I watched such a strong man, shake with the refusal to weep.

"Slide over," I said again. Taking my hand from his. And without looking me he did. He slid over just a handful of inches, but enough to give me room. I slid off my sneakers and carefully climbed into the small hospital bed with him.

"Let me hold you," I said. And without looking at me, he did just that. Turned on his side, allowing me to lie on my back. And then he placed his face against my throat. I felt the wetness of his tears against my throat and the shudders that racked his body all over my own body.

"It's okay to cry, you know," said as I placed my hand at the base of this skull and massaged him there.

And he did just that. There came a point where he couldn't hold back anymore and the shudders became simply shaking, the shaking of weeping. He didn't cry aloud, but he wept until he was exhausted. Until he fell asleep like a baby. And all the while, I held him.

Hey ya'll! I know you guys must be very angry with me! I'm so sorry that I took forever to update. Honestly, I graduated and thought that I would have some time off to finish this story but that didn't happen. I got sucked into a 9-5 which I hated and should've known. Then on top of that, I was dealing with my own depression in the last months… Office jobs are not for me. So I've quit which gives me time to do what I love….anyways, returning to the story; I seriously didn't know if he was going to live or die and it took me a while to make up my choice, hence why I left it at such a cliff hanger. But the thing is that I love Adrian too much. So here y'all go. Let me know, what y'all think!