OLIVIA'S POV
It had almost been my second home, and with every conscious minute of the day, I knew a duty called to sit beside Kellan's bed and make sure he was fine. Days had run their course since the accident, and once the doctors reassured me that everything was all right, nothing else mattered but hovering over his bed like a mother hen. It was no longer something that I felt I needed to do, but my reason to want to go. Somewhere in a big way, I became attached to him much more than I ever expected.
Minor things, really. The way in which he would glance at me, teasing and bright-eyed glinting, the softening of his voice when my name was spoken by his mouth. When his eyes crinkled up with laughter over my serious nature-in that infuriating and yet-at-once curiously disarming.
Today was like all the days before it: Kellan was his usual impossible self.