time travel · post-apocalyptic · savior complex · weary · desperate romance · cpr · sci-fi · gritty · exhausted · intimacy
Murky, chlorinated water sloshes against the edge of the director's private pool as I drag Miles's lifeless form onto the slick tile. His skin has gone waxen, his lips a chilling shade of blue. His chest does not rise. Hawk and Lynx linger a few steps back, muttering weak excuses, while CHIRON-V's synthesized advice buzzes like a trapped fly in my earcom. I have to save him. The old pact, rat-hole to rat-hole. My hands shake as I tilt his head back, exposing his throat. What if he never wakes up?