She remembers him.
Not only by that scar on his cheek, but by some other deeper connection she can’t describe.
She can feel it stirring inside her, as though their very heartbeats have been entwined since that night, fifteen years ago, when she left that cut on the boy’s face.
His breath has since returned. His consciousness faltering back now–
“W-What happened…?” he gasps, bright blue eyes flashing with confusion, near-blinding against the gray of her sheets.
“Your heart stopped,” she says. “The doctor says you’re fine now.”
Her heart had stopped, too.
But she does not tell him this.
*Inspired by the prompt ripped into the headline from The Daily Post.