“ don’t say that. ” head snaps up and she forces her eyes to meet his. voice is beyond stern. cold. collected. stony. mannerisms are in such great contrast from normal ; caring, gentle, warm. ( it’s emergency room mode. it’s the tone that quiets the rowdy patients, controls frantic nurses, and chills even doctors to the spine. ) white hot anger courses through her veins and flames burn in amber eyes.
“ don’t you dare say that. ” the words crack as the leave her lips but remain strong. “ there are people out there fighting for their lives every day. every day. i see people in the emergency room every single day that are clinging onto their lives —- and you just want to wish yours away? ” expression is alight with fury. “ people tell me a lot of things when they’re on their death-bed. even the people who — who say they have nothing, no one to live for, they want to live too. ”
a pause. she settles in her place, the fire being tamed. hands rest on her knees and a breath is taken. “ i’d like to think you want to live, too. ”
