I Fell in Love with Hope - Lancali

everything.
They had to kick him out of the room. Neo, C, and him stared at the
hall entryway to the ICU and we waited an infernal set of infernal
minutes until a doctor came out.
Now, Sony lies in a room I can only describe as blue. A path of tubes
works under her nose. Her chest is a mess of medical work. It
must’ve been an infection, working slyly without symptoms until it
pulled the drain and flooded the battleground.
“We got caught, huh?”
I look up to a grating voice. It’s weak, rocks scraping the back of her
throat. But it carries a melody I know. Sony is there, behind those
half-lidded eyes. A flame burning low, but still burning.
I rush for her hand, nearly disrupting the fragile systems all
connected to her, through needle, tube, or whatever apparatus.
“We always get caught,” I whisper, squeezing it.
She doesn’t squeeze back. I don’t think she can. She can’t sit up or
move.
She can barely turn her head.
“They didn’t ruin my wings, did they?” she asks.
The tattoo isn’t visible beneath the bandages, but her wings were too
young to undergo so much. All that’s left is ink feathers plucked and
fallen beneath the crown of her collarbones.
“No,” I say. “They didn’t.”
“Good.” Sony smiles. “I’ve always wanted wings.”
I nod, coursing my touch back and forth over her knuckles.