Chapter 18 Worlds Apart

• I flinch at the abrupt cold touch against my cheek, groaning softly as I furrow my eyebrows. My lungs draw a sharp breath, my eyelids fluttering open. My vision gradually sharpens at the sight of the familiar nightstand, and I briefly study the white cloth sitting over it with bloody spots staining it.
• In the next moment, I turn my head slowly, my gaze landing on Marcel who sits at the edge of the bed, beside me. He holds an ice pack against my cheek with a stern look playing on his hard features.
• He’s upset.