Darcy moved toward the bed, straightening the sheets, adjusting the pillows, small, methodical actions meant to pass the time while he waited. He intended to change his clothes afterwards, but only after ensuring that Ilyas was alright.
Minutes passed, long enough to feel wrong.
The sound of running water did not cease. Darcy's movements slowed, then stopped entirely. A faint crease formed between his brows. Something was not right.
He turned toward the bathroom door and approached it, his steps quickening slightly. Raising his hand, he knocked firmly.
"Ilyas?" he called out. "Are you alright?"
There was a sudden noise from inside. Not just movement, chaotic movement.
Something clattered. Then, after a brief delay, Ilyas's voice came through, strained and uneven. "Yeah… I will be out… ouch!"
The word broke off abruptly. A heavy sound followed. The unmistakable sound of a body hitting the floor.
