(Author's POV)
Myra was lying in the bed, her face utterly pallid and pasty, almost lifeless. Her heavily strapped, patched-up body was a painful sight to watch.
All of a sudden, in her sleeping state, she started to make low grunting sounds as her hands trembled while her eyes were still tightly shut. Her face turned into a grimace.
This action of hers broke his sleep. He had been by Myra's bedside since god knows when. His eyes were bloodshot and groggy. He reached for her hands and muttered, his voice low, gruff, husky, "You are~ …. You are awake?" He felt relieved. But soon, Myra's grunts turned up a volume or two. His face etched with worry as he asked, "What happened? Why are you~ …." he quickly pressed the emergency button to call the medical staff.
