Third Person
Caelan couldn't allow the darkness to sweep him away...not when his heart was hurting like a thousand needles pounding into it all at once. He forced his eyes open. His hands reached for the bed frame, and he painfully pushed himself up. He had never felt so desperate, yet so useless, all at once since the accident.
He wanted to carry Rain, to move with ease...but his body wouldn't obey. He had to push, gasping for breath, and then he pushed even harder until his lower body finally reached the level he wanted. Weakly, he collapsed onto the bed, on top of Rain.
He was still. No reaction. And the mark wasn't healing.
Caelan's eyes burned.
He slid yet another line across his skin and squeezed out the blood...but nothing.
"Why… isn't it working…?" he rasped, his voice as desperate as it had been that night three years ago.
