My Home Is With You [LGBT+]

Fifteen

I THINK I WAVE IN and out of consciousness.

I hear voices, soft and urgent.

I hear my name being called in desperation.

I feel someone's touch.

Soft. Careful. Reluctant.

But I can't seem to wake up.

It hurts.

Everything hurts.

My head feels like it's stuffed with cotton, my eyes feel heavy, and my throat is parched. Every breath I take feels like it burns my lungs. My body aches and everything hurts.

I don't want to wake up.

"Oseias," someone calls.

It's that voice again.

Calling me softly, gently.

Tender and deep.

The voice sounds familiar, soothing like a cool balm on my aching conscious.

With the bit of strength I have, I open my eyes, squinting against the dim lights of the hospital room that still hurt.

I can't see. My vision is clouded with blotches of darkness, small snippets of blurred light filtering through.

A warm hand reaches down and grabs onto my hand. But a small whimper escapes my dry lips as I try to pull away, away from the sharp numbing pain that suddenly engulfs me.

"I'm sorry baby boy."

"Max?" I croak weakly.

"Hey there," he smiles, a small, worried crease between his eyebrows appearing as he peers down at me.

I reach out and smooth the frown away with the tips of my fingers.

He catches my hand, gently, carefully. Slowly he brings my hand to his lips and he presses a small kiss to my palm and it's then that I notice gauze wrapped around it.

"Wha' happened?" I slur tiredly.

He reaches for a cup of water and carefully helps me sit up so I can take a sip, but it only makes the scratchiness worse. It hurts.

"Building caught fire, someone left the stove on. You went inside and nearly died," Maximilian explains.

He sounds angry, frustrated. But relieved.

So relieved.

"Had to," I mumble, eyes a bit droopy.

"I know," he whispers.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't baby, you did what you had to for your family," he sighs.

I squeeze his hand as best I can, wincing at the tiniest of movements.

"You inhaled too much smoke so you're on oxygen for now. Most of your injuries were superficial... But your hands..." Maximilian trails off.

"Hurts," I frown.

"I know sweetheart,I'll go get a nurse."