Wes’ POV
“Hello…? Wes…? Did you butt dial me? Really, dude…today of all days?”
Perhaps it was a bad idea to talk to her while my brain was turned into putty and oozed out of every open orifice on my face. But, the moment I heard her sleep-addled voice, it felt like the overcast of all my troubled thoughts had parted and hope had managed to crack in sunshine bright. The freak squall I carried in me ever since the crash lessened to a harrowed whimper, and it felt good.
More than good actually. It felt…right.
Maybe that was selfish of me. Maybe it wasn’t. Who could blame me really? To not be so cold to everything. Numb with my fingers aching from holding on so tight or else risk fading away.