It only took ten seconds.

Her eyes were silver lined and filled with unshed tears.

But that wasn't the only thing that I noticed about her.

She was absolutely terrified, and I wasn't sure if it was for the fact that I'd almost died—twice, or because she was feeling things she didn't want to feel...but it only took ten seconds.

One.

Her head popped up as soon as my eyes met hers, and the relief that filled through my veins with undiluted joy was something I wasn't expecting to feel.

Two.

The smile stretched over her features. It was shaking and filled with fierce emotion that I would have to be in denial to try and explain away. The smile—it was the one she only used with me.

Three.

I let out a breath quivering with anticipation as I tried to sit up in that damned hospital bed—but that was when she broke her gaze and took in the wires and the IV pole and the bandage around my neck and—

Four.

She sucked in a sharp breath that forced a lone tear to slide down her face.

Don't cry...please, don't cry, not for me. I wished I could've told her that. I was okay, I was alright. Why wasn't she coming forward, why was she still rooted in place in the doorway, like she was nothing but a stranger here, to me?

Five.

Somehow, I knew this was coming. I knew I wasn't good enough for someone to stay for me. I knew my family was only there because they were blood. I knew...I knew this was too good to be true.

She took a step backwards, hands searching for the doorjamb while her eyes flitted around the room in what seemed like a blind panic.

She was having an anxiety attack.

Six.

More tears slipped down her cheeks, and my mother took a step toward her to help steady her, but she put a hand up to keep her at bay. Her eyes met mine once more, and what I saw in them devastated me.

She couldn't do it. I knew it the moment we locked eyes the first time, but it still felt like an anvil dropping on my heart.

I almost died, and she was bailing. This was it. It was over.

Seven.

But—no. Those were bruises around her neck. There was something wrong. Something that I couldn't ask because I still couldn't fucking talk!

Talk, you dumbass, get the words out!

"C-c—"

Eight.

Choking on my own air. Of course this was how I acted in front of her after the surgery.

Her eyes widened in something that resembled pain as she took a stumbling step toward me, almost like she was desperate to get near me to help.

"Grey, do not try to talk! You heard the doctor, if you do, you'll ruin all the progress they made and then all this that you just went through will have been for nothing."

No, it wouldn't have all been for nothing. I knew that I didn't want to die, I knew what I wanted in life and I was done beating around the bush in order to get it.

I was done letting life happen to me.

If all you do is sit around and wait for the clock to run down on your life and there's nothing after, then you just wasted your time living waiting to die. I wasn't going to let that happen to me. Not again.

The funeral I'd dreamed of had been the one I imagined after my attempt. I had it all planned out in my mind and everything. It would unfold just like I thought, and I wouldn't be surprised, wouldn't be disappointed. It was just how it worked.

I would be at peace and I would be fine. Not happy, not sad, just peaceful. Not black or white, but grey.

The in between place between heaven and hell—purgatory.

I didn't want to live there anymore.

Nine.

Cami took another small step toward me, but stopped herself at the last moment. Our eyes locked again, and I knew there was no keeping her here.

I would find out what happened to her, and then I'd figure out a way to help her, just like she'd helped me.

Ten.

An apology flickered across her face for the barest of moments, but then...

she was already gone.

"Alright, now let's try some higher inflections in your voice. We know your voice is going to be much deeper than it would've normally been, but I want to see if you can still speak in different tones and have tone shifts."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Mimic me—oh, no, a turtle!"

I almost cracked a smile at the doctor's ridiculous voice and phrase, but still I repeated what he said and how he said it.

"Good, very good. And do you feel any residual pain when speaking in a higher tone?"

"No. It all feels fine. I haven't had any pain since the first time I tried."

"I will say I'm very impressed with your recovery, Grey. I might call you up one day and ask you to come to a conference on this surgery to show my success stories. Would that be alright with you?"

Success story? After I'd flatlined not once, but twice on the table?

"Sure."

"Perfect. I'll have the nurse schedule you a follow-up appointment in six weeks, but other than that...if this were a disease, I'd say you were cured."

"Thank you."

Cured. Right.

It was true.

I could speak.

There was no pain.

So then why was I so unhappy?

My motorcycle rumbled out of the parking lot and drove me to one of my least favorite places: the county jail.

He hadn't been transferred yet, or bailed out.

Apparently, with the abundance of evidence, his parents were disgusted of him. Either that, or they weren't as rich as they claimed to be and couldn't afford his bail.

Officer Murphy was at the desk when I strode inside.

"Ah, no. Not you again. Let me guess—you passed the bar exam since we last talked and you're his lawyer now?"

"Whatever you want to tell yourself."

I slipped him three hundred dollar bills.

He looked the other way.

The first time, Colton just stared at the wall and refused to talk to me.

The second visit, he yelled and threw his pillow at me—or rather, at the bars in his jail cell.

This was the third, and the last.

I was returning to school tomorrow, and I needed to get a few things off my chest.

I hadn't spoken the first two visits, so he had no idea I could talk again. I'd kept that a secret on purpose.

"Great. You again. Let me guess—the officers either don't give a shit who they let back here, or you're using your Dad's money to bribe them."

I cringed as he said I was using my 'dad's' money. That's where he was wrong. It was my money that I'd earned for racing my motorcycle every other weekend before Cami came along.

Parker's father was not my own. I was still wrapping my head around that one, but thankfully my relationship with my mother hadn't suffered after learning this information.

It had been repaired, actually, and she was on her way to helping me figure out who my birth father was.

"Oh. I know. You're here to stare at me for two hours in silence because you can't fucking talk. Well, guess who's fault that is, huh?"

He crept closer to the metal bars separating the two of us.

They were gunmetal grey, gritty, and most likely hadn't been washed since they'd been placed in this jail cell.

The dank fluorescents flickered and zapped above and illuminated the white uniform Colton had on that had turned a strange shade of light brown since the last time I'd seen him.

I was lucky the bastard didn't have a cellmate, and that there were only three cells in the county jail. They were currently empty.

He'd remain here until his trial in a week, and if convicted, he'd go on to the state penitentiary. With his violent crimes, he could even end up at the exact same prison as Cami's father.

What strange irony that would be.

Still, not realizing the danger standing in front of him, Colton moved like a snake in the grass, sliding closer, closer, closer still until he was right there, right in front of me.

He pressed his face to the bars, hands going to rest upon them, and that was when I snapped.

My hands encircled his throat, and I yanked him so close I almost pulled his entire head through the bars.

"I'm only going to say this once: if you ever come near Camille again, I will personally hunt you down and slit your fucking wrists to make it look like you did it yourself. I'm good with the topic of suicide, you know. I can make it look like you did this on purpose. Blood doesn't scare me. I've almost died three times, so I've got nothing left to lose, but you do, don't you Colton?"

I spat his name like a curse, but I wasn't done yet.

Even as the urine dripped down his leg and created a foul smelling puddle on the floor spilling out around us.

"Or maybe you'd like me to knock you out and tie you up, just to wake you up as soon as I kick the stool and let you realize you're dying, hanging there by a belt...single gunshot wound to the forehead? I could just put the pistol in your mouth, place your fingers over the trigger and...

BAM!"

Colton flinched so hard it felt like his body was at the start of having a seizure.

I couldn't stop the dark laughter from rolling off my tongue.

"That's what I thought."

One final shove and he was on the ground just as Officer Murphy came storming through the doors, no doubt having watched my little show on the cameras.

"I'm done, I'm done. And if he knows what's good for him—he's fucking done, too."

I was really fucking nervous.

Parker had told me the night before that Cami would be returning, among other things, and I was sweating bullets.

I'd already gotten my anger out on Colton last night, so my emotions were on a tight leash.

Until I pulled into the parking lot, and then everything rushed right back into my head.

What if she wasn't ready to see me? I hadn't tried calling or texting, just in case she wasn't ready for that either.

She hadn't reached out to me at all.

I was beginning to ask myself if that was the wrong move as I swung off my bike and slung the helmet across the handlebars and locked it there so the clowns who liked to pick at me wouldn't try to steal it.

Parker was there, an encouraging smile and steady hand, but then, he wasn't really what I needed at that moment despite all the help and support he'd given me since I'd returned from the hospital.

It was this strange sense of knowing, of this gut feeling that had me whipping my head to her.

It was like the skies parted and the clouds made way for the sun to shine directly onto her, where the light always should have been.

Her face crumpled into a half sob, half grin, and then I wasn't thinking anything anymore—only the sudden need to get to her, to hold her close to my body, to crush her against my side and never let her leave there again.

Her sweet vanilla scent hit my nose just a half a second before she was there, right where she belonged, and then I wished my arms never had to let go ever again.

"Cami."

Her head whipped up in surprise, eyes wide and brimming with unshed tears.

"Grey," she choked out, her voice a melancholic whisper of everything I could tell she wanted to say but couldn't.

We were attracting a crowd, but it wasn't like either of us were bothered even a little bit by it.

"Want to get out of here?"

She nodded before burying her face in my chest, arms tightening around my waist, and damn if I couldn't find another memory more perfect than this one.

One more second, I'd pull away in one more second. Just to let this feeling linger and soak into my bones all the way down into my soul where she'd nestled herself a place amongst the shadows and spiky walls I'd created.

But then I was leading her away from that crowd in the parking lot, away from my brother with a satisfied smile on his face, away from the rest of the world and everything that came with it.

Onto my bike, with her arms around my waist and her legs tightening around mine.

On the road, it was just the two of us and the open air and everything we'd never been able to say to each other until now.

Until I drove her directly to the place where I'd first taken her, to the lookout hidden in the trees in the silence of nature swimming with an orchestra of life.

I was the first one to swing off the bike, as Cami was left half dumbstruck on the motorcycle.

Goddamn she looked good on my bike.

"You can talk."

I came up to her as she slung one leg around so that she was facing me.

I edged my way in between her legs and placed both hands on either side of her on the leather seat.

The sun threw a stray beam through the trees and it flickered in her eyes, turning the dark brown in them a pure amber; so light they almost seemed golden—not brown, but gilded in light and sparkling with beauty.

"I can."

"You...your voice is so deep."

I was aware how much deeper it was compared to everyone else, but it was a result of the trauma to my vocal cords. My voice held a distinct smoky quality, almost like I was a singer and had overused it my whole life, but it was better than nothing.

"I...I didn't come to see you."

I couldn't help the chuckle that came out at her words. She was just staring at me in shock, like she couldn't actually believe that I was really there.

"No, you didn't."

"But—you're not mad at me?"

"Why would I be mad at you, Cami?"

"Because...because I just...left."

Somewhere nearby, a blue butterfly fluttered onto a low hanging tree branch. A squirrel darted up that very same tree. A songbird chirped its call into the serene, still air.

I reached up to push Cami's hair behind her shoulder, threading my fingers through the strands and cupping the back of her neck.

"I am anything but mad at you."

My voice was a hoarse whisper, but then her hands were wrapped around my shoulders and pulling me into her and—

the first brush of her lips against mine was a symphony of joy and triumph unparalleled by any drink, any drug of choice, any vice I could've used to hide the pain.

My mouth drank her in and pulled her soul out to dance with mine in the clouds while our bodies surged forward and came together in a tangle of limbs and kisses flush with an emotion we were both too scared to name.

She was the sun and I was the shadow swirling around it, blinded by her brightness but cast in gilded darkness.

This was what my body and soul had been craving for so long, but after what she'd gone through I wasn't going to push her. She'd been the one to grab me and hold on like she was never going to let go, and I wasn't going to object to that when it was what I wanted, too.

Those legs wrapped around my waist and pulled me closer, impossibly closer, until the only space between us was from the barriers of our clothes.

Her hands were in my hair, tugging like she thought she could pull my soul from my body and drink it down until it mixed with hers.

"Grey," a whimpered whisper falling off swollen pink lips.

"I'm sor—"

"You have nothing to be sorry for. I know why you stayed away. I understand."

"You...you know?"

"I know."

The weight of those two words seemed to undo her, and those earlier unshed tears slipped down her unmarred cheeks drawing lines of pain down her face.

"Hey," I started, reaching for her, but she buried her face in my chest instead.

I held her through her shaking, through the hiccuping sobs, through the pain flowing through her body until my own absorbed it as its own.

"How—why are you still even here with me, then? If you know?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Don't make me say it, Grey. You know what happened to me, what he did to me. It's disgusting. I'm dis—"

I cut her off mid-tirade by placing one soft, featherlight kiss to her forehead.

Then, one to each of her cheeks even as they came away salty with her tears.

"He is the one that's disgusting, not you, Cami. Never you. What he did changes nothing about who you are or what you mean to me."

"I'm scared."

The truth of that emotion in her eyes was almost enough to knock me off my feet, but somehow I stayed steady, strong for her, strong like I wished someone would've been for me so long ago.

"That's okay. You can be scared. But one thing you'll never have to be scared of is me leaving. I'm here for good. I am all fucking in, good days, bad days, days you don't want to see my face, days you don't want to get out of bed, days you almost burn yourself in the shower because you're too numb to feel anything else—I'm going to be fucking right here, Cami. Right by your side."

"But...but why would you do that for me?"

"Haven't you been listening?"

"No, I have, I just—it's hard for me to believe someone could ever be there for me like that. All anyone ever does in my life is leave. That's why I couldn't see you after what happened with your surgery. I was so sure you were going to think I wasn't worth it, that you were going to break my heart...so I guess I just decided to break my own instead to save you the trouble of doing it yourself."

She could barely look me in the eye after what she'd said, so she grabbed the front of my shirt to tug me closer and rest her cheek on my chest.

I immediately began rubbing soothing circles onto her back, my breath hitching as she tightened her grip on me, like she was scared I'd disappear if she let go.

"I was so scared because I think—no, I know that I was falling in love with you. The thought of you dying, and leaving just like everyone else...it was all too much."

I was frozen. A still statue that she was clinging to, but she was waiting for me to say something, to respond to what she'd just said.

"Was? As in, past tense?"

She pulled back and faced me with a bravery I hadn't seen on her face since the last calm night we'd shared before her father had called her. The night everything had gone downhill.

She pulled her arms back, and while my body missed her touch, everything else inside me lit up as she signed three words to me that she couldn't say with her voice, which somehow made it all the more perfect for us.

"I love you."

We'd spent nearly every waking minute with each other for two weeks before everything blew up in our lives.

I knew her favorite color, food, the name of her favorite shampoo.

I knew her favorite Marvel character (Mantis, which made a strange kind of sense), her favorite movie, tv show, the name of her childhood stuffed animal (Pinky).