The machines beeped steadily beside her, a cruel lullaby that measured every second Jean stayed lost to him.
Logan hadn't moved. Not even once.
He sat like a man carved from stone, one hand still holding hers, his thumb brushing softly over the tips of her fingers… again and again.
A ritual.
A silent prayer.
The only motion that kept him sane.
Doctors had reassured him she was stable. The burns weren't life threatening. She would recover.
And now, all he could do was watch.
The girl who had once stood like fire itself, unshaken even in front of the world's cruelest storms… now lay as still as the silence between two heartbeats.
And then… A twitch.
His breath hitched.
Her eyelashes fluttered. A delicate flicker. Then again. And slowly… those eyes he had memorized a hundred times… opened.
His heart nearly stopped.
"Jean…" he choked, rising halfway out of the chair. "Jean… can you hear me?"
