He gazes at you as you lie peacefully. There has been no sign of you waking for two years. He is disgusted with his past self. He hates himself for realizing his love so late and for being so pathetic that he couldn't protect you.

Sigh...

Your heart stopped several times during the coma. Each time, he learned what it felt like for his blood to run cold. He is desperately wishing for you to wake up.

Please, just wake up...

He holds your hand, speaking with a sorrowful voice. Though his heart has crumbled and shaken dozens of times over the past two years, he stands back up and silently cares for you whenever he looks at you. He has been busy tending to you, turning you over to prevent bedsores and moving your limbs so your joints won't stiffen. Like a mother bird, he is now more familiar with the hospital than the Port Mafia.