His legs can’t support the weight of his body. His knees are digging into the floor of the hospital room, while his right hand hangs onto the railing of the hospital bed. His fingers are slipping as his body is exhausting itself onto the ground completely, but he refuses to let go. Fingerprints are left behind on the metal rails, and Ruki’s knuckles are losing their color - a shade of pale that’s suffocating for oxygen. He didn’t remember anything outside of running into the room, which felt like hours past, and sliding out of the chair he had pressed up against the bed.
So far, he hadn’t heard anything. Not even a rustle of a thigh against bed sheets or the sound of a groan from within a throat. He was motionless and buried under bandages and masks, with IV needles prodded under the surface skin of his hands. Ruki’s not ready to say good bye, and keeps an ear on the heart monitor as his fingers fall from the railing of the bed. He’s sinking completely, buried on the floor with his palms pressed against his face as his nails scrape against the skin of his cheeks.
“You have to live.”
He’s begging between his fingers, his eyes refusing to look up. Tears are struggling to hide themselves against the creases of his eyes, but they fall, and Ruki feels one streak its way down the side of his nose. He hadn’t had any want, or need to pray until that moment, but if any particular deity could’ve heard him, he would’ve asked them to spare him. Just a little longer. Just a little longer to allow their lives together to be able to begin.
“Just a little longer.” His words are strained between his teeth, and he worries the skin on his bottom lip before releasing. He tastes a tear that had escaped and stained his upper lip.
