Meng Yao wrapped his arms around Xue Yang, wanting to me against him and nowhere near the blood sweeping towards him. He shivered and as he tried to make himself calm down but he couldn't. It was too much. Everything was too much. He was crying so hard now, he was embarrassed by how pathetic he felt. He wasn't dead. Xue Yang saved him. He didn't want him dead. He mattered, right? He mattered.

"You picked me." Right? That was what happened. He was picked. Above anyone else.