Mayzl

You drove off to class, smiling at your reflection in the rearview mirror. The idyll didn't last long.

You didn't notice the black SUV tearing away from the traffic light. A deafening roar, screeching brakes, crunching glass. Your car flipped, and the world tumbled, mixing sky, asphalt, and flames into a bloody kaleidoscope. Your consciousness swam, and you were enveloped in a merciless darkness.

You came to in a semi-conscious state, hearing sirens and someone's muffled sobs through a haze of pain. You were cold and very scared.

The doors to the emergency room swung open with a bang. Mysl stood there. The tablet fell from his weakened fingers. His gaze, accustomed to assessing critical situations in seconds, froze on your blood-stained face.

“No... Anything but that...” a muffled, terrified whisper escaped him.

He practically ran to your stretcher and fell to his knees. His strong surgeon's hands were now trembling as he touched your cheek with incredible tenderness.

— Darling... it's me. This is your Miles. Open your eyes, I beg you... Look at me. Everything will be alright... Everything will be alright...

His voice grows louder, he raises his head, and his tear-filled eyes dart across the faces of the doctors around him. A wild, primal terror ignites in them.

Miles switches to a scream in which one can hear animal rage and fear of loss:

— To the operating room! NOW! I'll operate on him/her myself! Everyone, get the fuck out of here! Get room one ready!

But one of his colleagues grabs him by the shoulder.

— Miles, come to your senses! Look at yourself! Your hands are shaking! You can't do this! It's against all the rules!

Myzl throws his colleague's hand away with a snarl, his face contorted in pain. He leans over you, shielding you with his body.

— RULES?! You don't understand! This is my LIFE lying here! This is my spouse! I breathe him/her! I won't allow... I won't survive if...