Meanwhile, in a hospital room bathed in soft morning light, Ryan was resting on the couch with his eyes closed. A faint crease between his brows made him look brooding even in sleep.
When Zenith finally opened her eyes, it took her a few seconds to register where she was. The sterile scent, the crisp sheets, the IV drip attached to her hand —it all came together slowly.
Only then did she realize she was at a hospital.
Her gaze darted across the room, and not far away, she saw Ryan sleeping on the couch. She blinked in surprise, momentarily taken aback.
But then, as the fragments of the previous night returned to her —her collapse, the anxiety, his voice calling her name —everything began to make sense.
"You are awake?"
The unexpected voice startled her, and she turned quickly to see a nurse walking into the room.
