Page 133 of Contested

Sebastian watched his face, or what he could see of it beneath the bandage. The grin slipped away, and his mouth parted slightly, then closed. Then his arm started moving again. “Why can’t I see?”

“Do you mean why is the bandage on?”

“Whatever tickles your nipple.”

Sebastian laughed. “Uh, you got hit in the head. Nurses said you popped some blood vessels.”

“I have ships in my eyes?”

“It’s wild that’s where your mind went.”

Marcos smiled again, smaller this time, and squeezed Sebastian’s hand.

Sebastian sat down in the chair beside the bed. It was too low and too hard, and he was uncomfortable the second he was in it, but he didn’t move.

He looked at the bandage over Marcos’ eyes. The bruising near his temple and along his jaw. The strap holding his right arm, then down to the plaster over his fingers. He tried to match all of those things up with the version of Marcos who had stood in the centre square that morning, broad and solid and too stubborn to let Bendigo get in his head until they had done exactly that.

Sebastian’s stomach twisted.

Marcos shifted on the pillow and groaned again, his thumb moving against Sebastian’s hand. “My ears have drums in them.”

“That’s your pulse.”

“That isn’t where that belongs.”

Sebastian’s mouth pulled. “At least you can hear, despite losing your sight.”

“Oh, my God. You’re right.” Marcos laughed once, then winced. The sound cut off quickly, and his hand tightened around Sebastian’s before going loose again.

Sebastian let out a quiet breath. The worry in his chest shifted, not gone but loosened enough to let air through. He pressed his thumb along Marcos’ knuckles.

For a few minutes, they stayed like that.

The room hummed around them. Machines carrying out their quiet work, and footsteps passed beyond the door, paired with hushed voices.

“I should go,” Sebastian said, voice lower than before. “Your family will be here any second.”

Marcos groaned, and Sebastian wondered if he was still awake. His hand had fallen back to his side, loose in Sebastian’s.

“Okay,” Marcos said after a minute, his head shifting on his pillow as he groaned again.

“I’ll talk to you later, okay?” Sebastian pulled his hand away and stood up, stepping away from the bed. “We still need to play that game, remember?”

“Yeah.” A smile flickered on Marcos’ face.

Sebastian found one of his own tugging at his lips as he turned to leave, hand reaching for the door.

Then a sound came from Marcos.

It was almost a snore. A jolt from his body as a last-ditch effort to keep himself awake and fight the effects of the drugs. Then he spoke. The words were barely more than a whisper and broken as his mind drifted back to sleep.

“Bye, bye, Bao. I love you.”

Sebastian froze with his hand on the handle.

His pulse made itself known throughout his whole body, fast and heavy. His fingers stayed locked around the metal, but he couldn’t feel the cold of it properly anymore. The room seemed to tilt without moving. Blood rushed up the sides of his neck, into his face, behind his ears until the hospital sounds faded beneath it.

He turned slowly, and his gaze fell on Marcos.