“You scared the shit of me,” he whispers, hot breath against my ear, and I murmur a ‘how so?’ into his skin. “When I walked out here and saw you slumped over like that... you’re ice cold, Huckslee. I tried to wake you twice. I thought...” He trails off, and the reality of what he’s saying hits me like a ton of bricks. Dead. He thought I was dead.
