Colourless
Stacy sat in the chair, watching over him as he tried to sleep. The morphine drip was doing nothing, and the sweat was rolling off him, soaking the sheets of the bed, as clear as the IV running into his vein.
She wanted to turn, to walk down the hallway, let the bright lights that relflected off the shiny floor blind her vision for a bit, give her something else to think about, but he needed her. She slumped down, her head falling down to her chest. She cried silently, her tears as colorless as the rain that fell outside.