38. Jonah
Jonah
D arkness pulls harder than pain does.
That’s the strange part.
The pain at least means I’m still here somewhere.
Still breathing.
Still fighting.
The dark just wants me to stop.
Voices drift around me sometimes.
Distant.
Broken apart.
Impossible to hold onto.
But hers stays.
Even when everything else fades.
Sienna.
I can’t make out every word.
Only pieces.
Not allowed to leave me.
I don’t want to be that person anymore.
Don’t get to die.
The sound of her voice cuts through the darkness sharper than anything else.
Warm.
Real.
Human.
I try moving toward it.
Something heavy drags at me immediately.
Pain surges through my side hard enough my body jerks somewhere far away.
Good.
Pain means alive.
Alive means her.
My hand feels warm suddenly.
Held.
I focus on that.
On her fingers wrapped around mine.
Steady despite the shaking underneath.
She’s scared.
The realization surfaces slowly through the fog.
Not tactical fear.
Not survival.
Me.
Something inside my chest tightens around that thought.
Because Sienna Knox was never supposed to care like this.
And somehow she does anyway.
I follow the warmth.
The sound of her breathing nearby.
The quiet break in her voice when she thought I couldn’t hear her.
That’s where I want to go.
Not the dark.
Her.
Always her.