Valeria

Thirty minutes passed before Dante finally stopped fighting against the exhaustion his body had been carrying.

I noticed it gradually. At first, he had tried to stay awake despite the medication running through his system. He had forced himself to keep his eyes open, to ask questions, to understand everything that had happened while he was gone. That was Dante. Even injured, even barely able to sit up, he still wanted control over the situation. He wanted answers. He ...