While I was stunned, Daniel flung the shard away and hauled me out of the bathroom.
He dragged me back to the bed and pinned me underneath him, arms trembling.
His forehead was sweaty; his breaths came fast, like he'd run a mile.

His heart hammered audibly — he was terrified.
And yet his expression was dark: "I saw your face change when I said you can't see him. You chose films about that kind. If I'd been a moment later, would you have cut yourself?"
Oh my God, what a colossal misunderstanding.
I tried to explain.
"I didn't want to kill myself. I was just going to throw the shard away because you hadn't cleaned it up."
"Also — your hand. You should treat your cut first…"

I started, but he hugged me tight: "Don't leave me."
His voice softened into a trembling plea.
I felt like he was trying to confirm I existed by holding me.
He rested his chin on my shoulder; his hair brushed my neck and made me laugh from the ticklishness, but I didn't dare.

If I laughed now, it would break him.
His arm tightened, shaking more.
I thought, I'm not a barbed rose — how did I stab him? I wrapped my arms around him too and repeated my explanation.
I wanted to kiss him to soothe his fear, but he wouldn't look up, so how could I?
After a while, his trembling eased. He didn't mention Caleb anymore; instead he muttered, "I'll stay here with you."
Stay?
I blinked.
He took his phone and seemed to order a few things; when he opened the door again, there was a first-aid kit and a laptop at the entrance.
He would now be working from the bedroom.
There was also a cleaning robot to sweep the corners so nothing would be left behind.
He'd heard me mention cleanliness after all — or had he only partly heard? Regardless, the room was tidier now.