Adrien's face was a mask of anguish. He finally managed to pry my hand free, not to pull me closer, but to cradle my face, his thumbs gently stroking my tear-streaked cheeks. "Bella," he rasped, his voice thick with emotion, "don't say that. Not for a second. You are not broken. And neither am I. We are… us. And us, we can survive anything."
He pulled away, not dropping my hands entirely, but holding them loosely, as if afraid I might dissolve. He looked around the sterile room, his gaze lingering on the IV drip, then back to me, his eyes blazing with a fierce resolve I hadn't seen in them before. "You're right. You're absolutely right. This has gone too far. The attacks, the pain you've endured… and I have curbed it."
