I kissed her on the head and stood up, turning to face my computer. She held on tight, refusing to let go. Her eyes reflected a blend of desperation, fear, and an intangible depth. My heart raced again; a kind of heat filled my face? Her eyes shifted, revealing a new emotion towards me. My heart fluttered again, but my mind couldn't recall the name of this emotion. We held each other's gaze for a while. Something slammed into my side, sending a shock wave through my body. As I fell to the ground.

She stood frozen, her eyes filled with terror, a chill running down her spine. She snapped out of it, lifting me into her arms, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. With every step, anxiety etched on her face, she scanned the streets, desperation in her eyes as we raced past familiar sights and towering buildings as the world around me blurred, my consciousness fading like a distant memory. She burst through the hospital's entrance, the air heavy with an antiseptic scent. As my grip on reality slipped away, the doctors carried me into the depths of the hospital. Hours later, consumed by guilt,

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I couldn't help but blame myself, believing that they had shot him because he was associated with a machine. At that moment, a gentle tap on my shoulder jolted me from my thoughts. A nurse, her eyes filled with compassion, nodded and guided me towards his room, the sound of muted footsteps echoing through the sterile halls.

The lit room enveloped me as the nurse bid farewell, leaving me standing in the doorway. His gaze locked onto mine, radiating warmth through a beautiful smile etched upon his face. His imploring eyes beckoned me to draw near, taking measured steps towards him. As his hand cradled my cheek, his touch exuded tenderness, instilling a sense of comfort within me. A rush of surprise widened my eyes. But how could he have known? It's not your fault, he assured me, his voice soft and reassuring. My hand sought solace in his, our fingers interlacing in a gesture of understanding. A knock on the door resonated, diverting my attention. Standing in the door frame was a young boy his age.