Chapter 18

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Lisa slept beside him for only until she was awoken sometime after midnight by vicious snarls and hissings outside the cave. For once in her life, she was thankful of the darkness that swept over the cave for it effectively fend off any potential threat from going inside.

She clung onto him, fisting her hand on top of his chest as she listened to every footstep that prowled past their cave. She needed that contact, just so she could abate the fear that was crawling at her skin. With every rustling sound from outside, she would curl into him, feeling his still burning up skin. She was beyond terrified of everything—of what is outside, of what tomorrow holds for them and of what will become of him.

Lisa stayed awake in the entirety of the night, praying to whichever star is listening to keep them safe. When the break of dawn came, the hissing and the snarling faded. And as the exhaustion and hunger catch up to her, she let her lids finally fall close, letting the words she kept chanting in her head, lull her back into sleep—not alone. not alone. not alone.

She woke up before the glittering sun rays manage to seep into the fissures of the cave. Lisa squinted before heavily blinking a few times. However, she was thankful she did not make any move when she did. Because as her eyes adjusted to the new morning light, she was greeted by her hand fully engulfed by a much larger one—his hand. His chest carried both of their hands in a steady rise and fall course. She watched as his thumb brush the top of her hands ever so gently, perfectly in sync with the tip of his fingers strumming imaginary strings on her bare shoulders.

It almost sent her back to sleep, if not for the thoughts in her mind accelerating all at once. He must've felt her tense against him that his soft caress came to a halt.

"You're awake, aren't you?" he rasped. His voice was still weak and Lisa was reminded of the predicament they're currently in. She slipped her hands out of his, sitting up and putting the distance back between them.

"Apologies. I didn't want to wake you." he said quietly.

Lisa ignored his stare but reached for his forehead nonetheless. She frowned.

"Your fever hasn't gone down..." she mumbled more to herself than him, looking anxious, panicked and frustrated.

"Hey." he tugged on her hands, squeezing it reassuringly. "I'm fine. We're going to be fine."

"No, you're not. Please spare me the lies. You're not getting any better and we're going to be stuck here until then! And I'm-"

She didn't mean to sound like she's blaming it on him, but when he let go of her hand, she couldn't shake off the guilt and the way she hated the loss of touch.

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