Jenny can hear the sirens. They’re getting closer. She can feel the sleepiness taking over. The cold, so cold, but she’s stopped feeling it. Stopped feeling. But Will is here, and his hand is warm. His voice, babbling: ‘Sorry, I love you, sorry, stay alive, hold on, stay with me.’ His wishes land softly, a caress, a warmth.
Jenny looks at his face and reaches out, trying to stroke his cheek. Her hand is heavy, her strength fading. ‘Please, Jen, don’t leave me. Stay with me.’
His cheek feels how it did when they had first got together, after a night out at the very beginning: unwashed, rough, close.