“Hunter! “I call, shaking him.He is lying on the door of my apartment, like an order delivered to the wrong address. Brown hair dirtys my fingers with blood when I try to measure your pulse by the neck. I lower myself a little more and listen to your breathing, it's low and irregular, but at least it means something.Hunter doesn't move even with the bumps I give when I try to wake him up. The face is pale, swollen, lifeless. I call him for the third time, succumbing to despair and giving light pats on his injured face. It's an even more disturbing view than the first time I found him like this, at a subway station. There I didn't know our problems were interconnected."Suzy" he moans, half-awake.With a boost, I lean over and press my lips on yours with a kiss. It's not pleasurable as usual, but it's a gesture of pure despair, relief. It tastes like blood, because the sides of your mouth are hurt. It's cold, because we're both exhausted and in shock. Hunter reciprocates the contact
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