Xaviers POV

She was awake... 

Finally after six excruciatingly long days she had awoken.

Six days in which I had barely left her bedside, only taking short breaks to return home, shower and change clothes. Days which had felt like weeks. Days I had barely eaten, in which my every thought and motion had been encompassed by this mysterious, beautiful lifeless girl.

Six days of which I had yet to attend university, I had emailed my professors whilst sitting by her bedside on my phone informing them that i had undergone a 'very traumatic ordeal' and 'would need a few days to compartmentalise the events which I had witnessed' before i could 'completely commit back to my studies', along with a detailed description of what had happened... Just the facts of course, that I had been driving home from my shift at Orions, a local bar which I worked at part time to support myself during my studies, and on said drive home I had witnessed a horrific crash in which I had watched a young girl, surely not much younger than my twenty years be thrown from a vehicle, which had collided with the crash barriers, to which I had pulled over and attempted to assist, explaining that this event had deeply effected and disturbed me. Obviously I had missed out the parts about the 'Miracle' in which I had touched the girl and she had miraculously resurrected from being confirmed as deceased. 

These were of course merely excuses as yes I was slightly traumatised by the whole ordeal, and definitely completely and utterly perplexed, and unashamed to admit terrified by the inexplicable event in which my touching her had prompted a reaction in my body and somehow, brought her back...

But the main reason I had not attended my lectures, nor had I attended my shifts at Orions, providing them with a very similar, albeit far more brief excuse, had been because I simply could not bear to be away from her side. 

The brief times I had left her room to undergo basic hygiene practices, returning to my city apartment had caused me to have extreme bouts of anxiety, accompanied by a deep rooted feeling of loss in the pit of my stomach which were only subdued when I was reunited with her.

I tried to reason with myself, to tell myself I was being completely insane and that I would return home and not go back to her side and instead I would await a call from the hospital who had promised to inform me if she made any progress and all but begged me to stay home and get some rest, but every time I tried I physically could not stand being away from her for more than an hour.

I realised I was being irrational, I could not explain the strange feelings and thoughts haunting me in both my cognisant and dream states. I was not the sort of person to become obsessed with people, I had never had a serious girlfriend lasting more than 2 months, I barely paid attention to the opposite sex in general on any more than a friendship level instead choosing to focus on my studies.  I had a few close friends, whom I socialised with regularly, but no one had ever had this effect on me.

Due to this I decided I had to be there when she woke up, to speak with her, to make sure she was okay... 

Though I knew she would be far from okay. Of course she wouldn't be okay neither physically, for the time being at least, or mentally. Especially as she hadn't been the only one in that car, another woman had been present, a brown haired, middle aged woman who I had been informed by one of the more sympathetic nurses had bore a striking resemblance to the girl and after DNA testing had been confirmed to be a direct genetic match to her.  It was the girls mother.

And she had been declared Dead on Arrival.

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A thousand questions tumbled around my head, I let out a deep breath that I hadn't realised I had been holding, suddenly for the first time since I had found her a huge weight seemed to ease off of my chest.  

Just seeing her eyes open had filled me with a feeling of extreme elation and relief.

But the noise that had awoken me from the slumber was a broken, choking sound, I could tell she was in pain, understandably so as her injuries were both severe and extensive. I wanted to rush to her, to try to ease her pain but my mind completely emptied itself of all sane and intelligent thought.

I stiffly sat up straighter in the hard armchair, nervously pulling a hand through my hair, trying to form a sensible word or action to try and reassure her as her crystal blue eyes bored into mine, panic etching her features, discomfort clear on her face.

To my complete horror and embarrassment the only thing I managed to choke out was a question, a question that of course I wanted to know the answer to, a question to which the hospital staff and police had been relentlessly trying to uncover. A question which was clearly a necessity but surely should not have been the first thing that I said to this lost looking and beautiful girl given the circumstances.

I asked her what was her name.

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