My eyelids fluttered open. I saw only one thing: eyes. Beautiful, emerald green eyes, filled with worry. His eyes.
I remembered not who I was, or where I was, or even my own name. Nothing. Nothing except his face, and that I loved him.
"Rosie?" I heard his voice call. "Are you alright?"
I tried to speak, to tell him I was fine, but I couldn't seem to make my voice work.
But even though I couldn't seem to speak aloud, I had my eyes. Somehow I knew that he could read my expression, that he'd done it a million times before.
Yes, I'm fine, I thought desperately, trying to convey through my eyes the message and hopefully have the worry in his eyes lesson.
He looked carefully at me, and I wished that I could remember his name. But of course I couldn't. Even my own name had escaped me until he said it aloud! How could I have remembered someone else's name but not my own?
As he continued studying my expression, I let my eyes roam his familiar face. I looked at his slightly tensed, square-shaped jaw, his messy, curly blonde hair, and his mouth, currently set in a tight, worried line. I wished desperately to see him smile. Finally, as I glanced back to his eyes, he spoke again.
"Rosie, blink twice if you can hear me." I blinked twice. "You're really okay?" I could hear the worry in his tone battling the relief and happiness that I was okay. Or maybe it was relief and happiness that I wasn't really responding and worry that I might be alright. But I didn't believe that. I could trust him. I didn't know how I knew, but I knew for sure.
I desperately searched my memory once again. Did he love me as I loved him? I couldn't remember.
And then everything went black. Again.