"They are very dramatic today," I murmured after Aria and Leo left.
"Very sure they missed their calling in theater." He leaned down and brushed a strand of hair off my forehead. "How do you feel?"
I couldn't help the smile that tugged at my lips. "Well, I feel about as good as someone hooked up to an IV drip can feel." I looked up at him, eyes searching. "You?"
"Alive." He said it like it meant more.
He sat beside me, eyes still scanning my face as if committing every freckle to memory. Then, as if remembering something, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small envelope.
"Speaking of things you're not expecting," he said, the corner of his mouth curling into a smirk. "The gala's in a week."
I blinked. "Wait—what? A week? Time flew that fast?"
He chuckled, the sound warm, like something low and pleasant. "Time flies when you're unconscious and connected to IV's."
"Hey," I pouted. "It's not like I planned a hospital stay right before a major social event."
