Revised ending to Like the Sun...

“You idiot,” she gasped out as tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes.
“You still love me right?” Icarus’ charred skin split around a slight smile, his eyes gleaming up at her.
Robbed of the ability to speak, Kyra could only nod her head, crying still.
“Good. I can’t live without sunshine.” He took a deep shuddering breath and coughed up more brackish water. “Help me up?”
“No, no! Lie still! I’m not going anywhere. Ever.” Kyra smoothed a lock of his wet hair from his forehead.
“Stay here.” He whispered, his strength nearly gone.
Kyra nodded her head vigorously and swiped at her cheeks. She couldn’t tell if her palms were wet from sea water or her own tears. Her gaze roved to the cliffs and the rocky path that wound up through vast walls of granite, leading to the sanctuary of the city. There was no possible way that she could drag Icarus all the way there without hurting him further. Of the ideas that miraculously popped into her head, only two she would even consider: waiting for help to come to them or heading up the path to get help by herself. The latter of the two she nixed in the space of a heartbeat. She settled into the sand, her fingers in his, to wait.
“Kyra…” Icarus murmured.
“Hmm?”
“Will you marry me? I don’t want to wait for our parents to decide things. We are getting married, not them.” His face was now twisted with a mix of pain and determination.
She laughed then. He looked so serious and she knew that he was serious about the whole thing. He did want to marry her. “You already know that answer.” Gently Kyra leaned over and pressed her lips to his burnt cheek.
Her heart couldn’t bear to hope at that moment, though, as her eyes wandered to his beaten form.
A commotion sounded just down the beach. From her vantage point, she could see a crew of four fishermen, pulling in their boat and attempting to haul their day’s catch to shore. Kyra jumped to her feet and raced towards them.
“Oh, please help us! Help!” she shouted at the men.
The men turned towards her and she knew that all they could see was a crazy, wet girl with feathers in her hair running around on the beach.
“My fiancé. He…he had an accident. Please, I need help getting him back to the city. He’s hurt very badly and I can’t get him up there myself.” She found that she had started to cry.
The men never said anything other than a few muffled “yes, we will help you”s. Kyra led them back to Icarus who had drifted into unconsciousness from pain and shock. Kyra’s didn’t know what to do other than reach for Icarus’ hand and hold his long fingers tightly in her grasp, her an anchor in the storm of her fear.
Icarus woke soon after the men had taken him to the infirmary, though he didn’t seem to see anything around him. The doctors attended to great burn marks that covered his skin and the mess of his broken leg.
They asked questions that Kyra was not comfortable answering. She wished to keep that day’s occurrences secret. All through the long nigh that Icarus silently wept in pain, she savored his words, locking them up inside her ears, hearing his voice repeating them back to her.
Sometime, in the middle of the night, Icarus fully woke up. Kyra hadn’t been able to sleep; she had been praying to any and all gods that would listen, praying with her lips and her soul for Icarus to live through the night.
Tiny streaks of light filtered through the doorway, lighting up Icarus’ face.
“Hey, sunshine.” Icarus whispered.