Water is lapping between your chin and neck, each wave colliding to the beat of your heart. Your energy is waning as your heart rate speeds up. Will anyone hear your last breath?

Your fluttering feet slow to a halt, paralyzed at the thought. And as your chin dips under, you catch a glimpse of him at the shoreline, his eyes turned down and standing still, not willing to help.

Your eyes shoot open. You see the familiar, drab white ceiling, awash in the light blue rays of dawn. Beige sheets are wrapped chaotically across your torso. The nape of your neck is uncomfortably damp. Your skin is cold, wrapped around his warmth, but there are widening gaps in his grip. His eyes are peacefully closed. He doesn’t notice anymore.