Hiya! Long time no see. The good news is that I finally got my MA! However, everything that led to it drained me, and my brain didn't want to cooperate, as writing anything after my thesis seemed like torture. This has been in my drafts for a while. I'm not entirely satisfied with it, but it's a start. I'm slowly getting back with more ideas, so you're going to see me again. Yippee!

A state of utter seclusion and despondency shouldn't have felt so acute, having been faced immeasurable times before. The entrance door opened and closed with a certain frequency, worry and reassurance filling the room. It became impossible to distinguish when she was really alone; the voices persisted. Now, as she recognized a nurse coming out of her ward, it clicked. Gillian tried to reach a glass of water on a bedside table to soothe an itchy throat, but her hand trembled and her eyes couldn't even register why everything was dancing. She shivered, sensing a sudden touch on her forearm.

"Here, let me help you, love." His voice echoed through a haze, ringing in her ears.

No. No. No. This is not actually happening. It's not true. It's a cruel trick, disorienting the subconscious mind.

Cal carefully adjusted Gillian's bed, holding a glass for her as she took small sips.

"You're not here. You're not real," she said, speaking hoarsely and barely audible.

"I sure hope I am, darlin'."

"Please, make them go away," she pleaded, letting out a shaky breath.

"Make who go away, Gillian?" Cal slowly caressed Gillian's cheek, her skin feverish and burning.

"I'm so scared…"

"You don't have to be scared now, Gill."

"You left."

She winced, succumbing to the drowsiness. He put a cold compress on her forehead in an attempt to ease the discomfort, knowing he might've contributed to her weakened state. Cal didn't want to admit it. Needless to say he didn't underestimate the depths of Gillian's feelings for him. Unconditional. For some magical, inexplicable reason. Her patience knew no boundaries, and to be completely honest, made his blood run cold.

He's listed as her emergency contact. They're required to... unless she specifically? She certainly didn't intend to cause a fuss or a scene. If Cal hadn't called her new workplace (which he dragged out of Emily), he probably wouldn't have found out what happened. Almost 2 months of radio silence. No Lightman Group meant they were bound to part ways sooner or later. That's what he unequivocally wished for her. Freedom. No more obligations to stay selflessly. Because he may never be free, forever trapped in his torments, his demons. Loving him was a losing game.

Before he mustered up the courage to reach her, he accepted Gillian's reticence. It wasn't in her nature to ghost people, though. A stabbing anxiety about whether something terrible took place gradually built up. He hated to be spot-on, blaming it on his neurotic nature. The instincts when it came to her appeared naturally in a perplexing connection between them.

"You were always right. I'm so sorry," he whispered, watching her slip in and out of consciousness.

/

"Cal? Am I dreaming?" she murmured in disbelief, squinting from a strong ray of sunlight.

Cal's eyes softened with concern as he moved his chair closer to her. "No, Gillian, it's not a dream."

A mix of relief and confusion washed over her. "How did you... What are you doing here?"

"I don't fancy you being here by yourself, love."

"Kind of ironic, from where I'm standing," she said, fidgeting with a blanket. "I appreciate your concerns, but I'm too exhausted to deal with them right now. Still, I do have a thing or two to say, if you're interested."

Cal's expression turned remorseful. "Of course, Gillian. I was foolish to believe I wasn't enough for you, neglecting your opinion on all counts."

A weak smile tugged at the corners of Gillian's lips. "It's not fair, Cal. I understand the motives behind your actions. I'm also tired of you springing into action whenever I'm in danger. I need reassurance on the good days, too. Not exclusively your protective instincts. I need to see your willingness to stay with me and fight through the storms together. I'm perfectly capable of making decisions about my life. Why do you get to decide what's best for me?"

"It seems I can't help myself when it comes to you. I accidentally overheard your discussion with Emily, and I guess I lost my common sense, if I ever had one," he smirked.

"Huh? I struggle to see the connection here?"

"About the future... You know, it made me think... or just reaffirmed my beliefs—that I'm not cut out for the life you deserve. Travelling, owning a quiet cabin somewhere near the sea, I—" her weary, but sudden laughter interrupted his stream of thoughts.

"You're laughing at me?"

"Yes, since it was unrelated to you. Why didn't you tell me if you felt this way? We were discussing my intentions when I was in my twenties; isn't that what many young folks fantasize about? I don't care as long as I'm with you; if I had to, I'd live in the woods in a tent. Unarguably, we can compromise on our vacations and stuff. The issue is you're not listening and jumping to conclusions."

Cal nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "I don't want to be apart from you anymore. I can't bear the thought of losing you. I want to be here for you, to take care of you. If you let me."

"If you're willing to try, if you promise to not shut me out again... I'll give us a chance. Those months were painful enough. I don't think I will survive another emotional turmoil," she sighed.

"For you, I will move heaven and earth." Cal pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, speaking softly, "I love you, Gillian. And I promise, from this moment on, I'll do everything in my power to make you as happy as you should be."