April
Her eyes are drooping, languid. When she sees him, she smiles.
"My God." His words are so low, they are almost silent.
He goes to her and plunges his shaking hands into the bloody water. He lifts her body from the bathtub and cradles her to his chest. Her head lolls against his shoulder, and his stomach lurches unexpectedly. He shuts his eyes. He can't do this. He can't deal with this. It's too much.
"Don't leave me," April whispers.
Mark's eyes snap open. He's back. He can do this. He can do this. "Isn't that supposed to be my line?" he jokes weakly.
He sets her down, as gently as he can, onto the bathroom floor. Mind racing, he slips off his sneaker and begins ripping the lace out of it. He ties the lace around April's arm, wincing as he pulls it tight and sees it pinch her skin. A tourniquet. He does the same with his other sneaker, his other shoelace. He feels as if he's watching the entire scene from above. Above it, not part of it. As if he's filming actors on a soundstage. His stomach doesn't feel sick anymore.
Next he takes off his shirt. April smiles again, and he realizes she thinks it's funny. That should make him angry or scared, but it doesn't. He just smiles back. He rips his shirt down the middle and uses each half as gauze for each of April's bleeding arms. "It's too late," she observes calmly.
"No."
"Mark—"
"No."
She sighs. "Just don't leave me, okay? Please?"
Mark knows he needs to call an ambulance, but he still finds himself saying, "Okay."
He looks down at her, looking up at him. He begins humming to relieve both of their anxiety. He never stops applying pressure to her arms. The blood seeps through his shirt, and it feels sticky under his hands. Then she begins shivering, whether from the cold of the bathroom tile or from oncoming death, neither knows. Mark releases pressure on one of her arms for just long enough to lift her up and slip behind her. He sits with his back against the sink and lets her head rest on his chest, while he resumes his futile attempt to stop her from bleeding out. It's almost a hug, her leaning back, him leaning forward and around her.
She stops shivering and says, "Thank you, Mark."
He's pretty sure those are April's last words before dying in his arms.