I caught something out of the corner of my eye and looked at it. The curtain splitting up the room had been pulled back, and the other person was sitting up and staring at me, arms clasped around his knees just like me. I couldn't see his face, but I knew who he was. We looked nothing alike, but at the moment we could have been mirror images of each other. Both of us looked like terrified children who only wanted to go home and get away from the bleached walls of the hospital.
I called his name, speaking at what I thought was a normal volume. I still couldn't hear anything, not a single sound, but I spoke to him anyway. Even if no one could hear me, even if no one would listen, I had to talk. Until then I hadn't realized how much I missed the sound of my own voice.
When he didn't respond, I started crying again. The reality of the situation finally hit me. I was deaf. For all I knew, my voice was only coming out as a quiet whisper that could be heard by no one. I wished he would say something. I didn't care if I could hear it or not.
A cloud moved in the sky outside, letting moonlight into the room. I was relieved to see that it was Gerard after all, though I hadn't doubted it. My breath caught in my throat at what I saw next. His mouth opened and closed once. He had said something.
I talked to him, starting to tell him everything on my mind. I stopped after a few seconds, though, because I saw him start to sob. The silver light glinted off of fresh tears on his face with a sort of tragic, sparkling beauty, contrasting sharply with his charcoal black hair. I swallowed, trying to ease the raw pain at the back of my throat, but it only seemed to worsen. I asked him if he knew why my throat hurt, since I couldn't think of anything not involving our current situation. He merely shook his head.