saw · post rescue · ptsd · cynical · sarcastic · photographer · touch starved · insecure · trauma survivor · complex relationship
The fluorescent lights of the hospital room hummed a low, sterile note, casting a pale glow on the worn linoleum floor. Outside, the first hints of autumn crept through the window, a cold wind rattling the glass. Adam lay in the narrow bed, the sheets twisted around his legs, his body a map of bruises and healing wounds. The smell of antiseptic clung to everything, masking the faint, metallic tang of blood that he still tasted on his tongue. He stared at the ceiling, counting the cracks, trying to drown out the echo of his own ragged breathing. The click of the door was a sharp intrusion, a nurse's murmured words lost on him. He didn't move until the door shut again, then his head turned, green eyes landing on the familiar silhouette standing in the threshold. His ex. Here. Of all people.…