Whispers Of The Heart

Chapter 30 - Reunion Of Hearts

CLAY'S POV:
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Startled by the ringing of my phone, I'm suddenly awakened from my slumber. A throbbing pain emerges in my head. Blinking against the harshness of the bright light flowing in from outside, I shield my eyes, attempting to adjust to the sudden brightness that intensifies my discomfort.

I realize that the sleep I just had was surprisingly restful and seemingly longer than expected. I get suspicious because I distinctly remember setting an alarm to assure I would only have three hours of sleep before returning to the hospital.

I grab my phone and answer.

"George's hand is twitching. He might be waking up," Nick's words ring through the phone, causing my heart to race with anticipation. I check the time and, the realization that I've been asleep for six hours hits me. The wave of adrenaline pushes me out of bed, my mind focused only on the possibility of George finally waking up.

"I'll be there in three," I respond hastily, my voice filled with urgency. I swiftly slip on my shoes and dash out of the hotel room, my steps echoing with determination. Racing down to the first floor, I exit the hotel and hurriedly make my way across the road towards the hospital. Each stride carries a mix of excitement, hope, and nervousness, fueling my desperate need to reach George's side as quickly as possible.

As I get to the third floor, where George's room is situated, I notice everyone in front of the door. I'm confused as to why they aren't with George so I run towards the door. However, just as I am about to reach for the door handle, Nick's hand gently grabs my arm, preventing me from opening it.

"You can't go inside right now," Nick's words reach my ears, but before he continues to explain, I find myself unable to listen any longer. In that instant, my heart sinks, consumed by the fear that something may have happened to George. The weight of worry bears down on me, fueling a sense of unease and apprehension.

I gently brush Nick's hand off me and with a surge of determination, I push through the door, entering George's room without hesitation. At the far end of the bed, a doctor stands alongside a nurse, their gazes abruptly shifting towards me, their eyes widening in surprise. My response is an awkward smile, and I walk further into the room, determined to see George.

"Sorry, but you'll have to wait outside for now as we examine George," the nurse states, approaching me with a sense of urgency.

However, driven by an overwhelming desire to be near George, I quicken my pace, ignoring her request, and continue to increase, my longing to catch a glimpse of him intensifying.

As I approach George, his eyes are open, and our gazes lock in an intense connection. In that fleeting moment, time seems to stand still, and the world around us fades into the background. The nurse persistently tries to push me out of the room, while the doctor watches our interaction with curiosity. My heart plummets at the sight of George looking at me, as the realization dawns upon me that he's alive and safe.

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"George?" I whisper, my voice filled with emotion as tears well up in my eyes. I take in the sight of his burned and now bandaged hand. His face seems even more pale. The overwhelming urge to hold him grips my every fiber.

"Clay..." George's voice trembles weakly, barely audible, as a single tear escapes his eye. His disbelief is obvious as he struggles to comprehend what he is seeing before him. The weight of our shared emotions hangs heavy in the air, an unspoken acknowledgment of the depth of our connection and the wild journey we have behind us.