Fragments Of A Lost Memory

Chapter 3: Thorne's POV

I woke to a dull throb in my head, the kind that made every small movement feel like a thousand needles piercing my skull. My eyelids fluttered open, and the world around me seemed blurry, like I was seeing through fogged glass. The smell of antiseptic hung in the air, and there was an overwhelming sense of unfamiliarity.

Where was I?

I attempted to sit up, and that felt like weightlifting. Stiff, uncooperative muscles-the mere thought of movement registered protests in my body. Panic gripped me, but I forced it down, trying to focus. The bright lights overhead hurt my eyes. I squinted, trying to make out the sterile room.

The pain in my head was razor-sharp-unbearable. Each time I tried to remember anything-my name, where I was, how I'd ended up here-my mind would shatter like glass, the pieces scattering beyond my grasp. It was as if there was just nothing there. No memory. No past. Just. emptiness.

A voice pierced the fog, soft and calming. "Easy, take it easy," it said. "You've been out for a while.

The doctor, the nurse-they must have been here. I vaguely remembered someone checking on me, but the details were slipping away just as fast as I tried to hold onto them.

I opened my mouth to ask a question, but words wouldn't come. It felt like my throat was bone-dry, like I hadn't spoken in days. Clearing it once, the raspiness rubbed uncomfortably within, I tried again, louder this time. "W-where am I?

The doctor had already left, but I could hear the footsteps of someone approaching me. A man's voice. Deep. Smooth. There was something in the timber that caused my chest to tighten with… I didn't know what. It was just a voice, yet somehow, it felt. recognizable, in a way that I couldn't place.

Then, a presence. I turned my head to see a man standing next to the bed, his figure emerging from the shadows like someone from a dream I couldn't quite recall. He had black hair—disheveled, as if he hadn't bothered to tame it—and eyes that looked impossibly dark. They were intense, but not unkind.

"Easy now." His hands were steady as they reached to help me. I hadn't realized how badly my legs were trembling until I tried to prop myself up again. The room spun for a second and my body gave out under me.

Just before I landed, I felt his hold-strong, warm, yanking me back upwards. His hands were gentle as though handling something fragile.

Careful," he warned, his voice soft but firm. "You've been bedridden for a while. You're not as steady as you think."

I swallowed hard, trying to ground myself, feeling his hands supporting me, holding me steady. I could feel the warmth of his touch. The way his fingers brushed against my skin, the way he steadied me, the way he seemed to know exactly how to help.

I stared at him a moment longer, his face just inches away, taking in his features. The faintest stubble dusted his jaw, his expression one of concern, though it was tempered by something else-something unreadable.

"Who… who are you?" I managed to rasp out, my voice shaking.

His eyes softened slightly, and I saw something flicker there-something personal. Something that made me feel… uncertain.

I'm Garrett Karlen," he said quietly. "I'm your boyfriend."

These words slapped me in the face like a cold, sharp pain. My breath caught in my throat, my chest tightened, and my heartbeat accelerated. My boyfriend? I had no recollection of this man, no memory of any relationship. And yet, the way he said it-so calmly, so assuredly-like it was the most natural thing in the world…

My mind was racing. I tried to remember something-something, anything-but each time I reached for a memory, it would slip through my fingers and shatter before I could grasp it. Nothing but darkness.

"No…" I whispered, hardly able to fathom it. "No… I… I don't remember."

A pang, sharper this time, sliced my head. Someone could have been driving a spike right through my skull, and the only thing I could do was hold my breath, clutch at my temples. The ache was unbearable. My vision blurred.

Garrett must have noticed, because he was suddenly right there, his hands on my arms, steadying me, his voice low and soothing. "Hey, hey… take it easy. Don't push yourself."

He moved closer, and before I could even think, his hand was gently cupping the back of my head, guiding it back against the pillows. He spoke softly, almost like he was trying to coax me back into calmness.

“You’re okay. I’ve got you.” His voice was almost a whisper, but it felt like it was reverberating through me, filling the empty spaces in my mind. “Just breathe. Don’t try to remember right now. It’ll come, Thorne. Just breathe.”

I wanted to believe him. Something in his voice made me want to believe him, though every single fiber in my body was screaming that I shouldn't. But all I could do was close my eyes and let the pain ebb away slowly, the rhythmic sound of his voice washing over me.

His hand lingered on mine, the warmth there a strange sort of comfort as my mind scrambled to wrap itself around everything. And I couldn't explain it, couldn't fathom why the sensation of his touch would have me leaning toward believing him-but I was. I wanted to. Wanted to take his words at face value, just believe that Garrett was really my boyfriend and that every word he uttered was absolute truth.

But the more I thought about it, the less sense it made. Who was I? Who was he?

The questions piled up, and I realized… I wasn't sure if I would ever remember.

I opened my eyes again, finding Garrett watching me, a guarded look in his eyes, his lips clamped together, shadowing something in his eyes, something that tugged on my chest all over again.

But I didn't know why.

Just… don't leave me," I said before I could stop myself, the words tumbling out, raw and unfiltered.

Garrett's gaze softened, and for the first time, I saw something flicker behind his eyes. Something warm. Something genuine.

"I won't leave you," he promised, his voice barely a whisper. "I'm not going anywhere.

But as I closed my eyes once more, that touch of his hands on mine-the softness, the warmth-was all I had to cling to. For a fleeting moment, that was enough.