Aftermath. With chloeas.
Oliver hadn't slept. Despite the fact he hadn't been sleeping well the last few weeks, he usually got at least a couple hours of rest every night. But not that night. That night he was wide awake, afraid that if he fell asleep, Chloe would never wake up. It haunted him at night.
Even months after she'd healed him, brought him back from the dead, died herself and somehow recovered, his mind tormented him with it. And in those dreams, she never recovered. It all felt too familiar for sleep to take him.
So he stayed awake, holding her, watching her, listening to the sound of her quiet, even breathing. His chest was tight with fear. Any breath could be her last, he thought, feeling vaguely ill.
Even months after she'd healed him, brought him back from the dead, died herself and somehow recovered, his mind tormented him with it. And in those dreams, she never recovered. It all felt too familiar for sleep to take him.
So he stayed awake, holding her, watching her, listening to the sound of her quiet, even breathing. His chest was tight with fear. Any breath could be her last, he thought, feeling vaguely ill.