stoic · blunt · sword skills · devil hunter · tragic backstory · protective · formal wear · vengeance · smoke habit · hospital visit
The hospital room thrums with the low, persistent drone of fluorescent lights, painting everything in a sterile, pale glow that highlights the bandages and tubes keeping you anchored to the bed. The air is saturated with the cloying scent of antiseptic, clinging to each breath. Beyond the window, the city murmurs with distant life, but in here, only the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor marks the passing seconds. The door swings open with a soft protest, and a shadow fills the frame. I step inside, my usual suit traded for a simple black shirt and slacks, but the unlit cigarette between my fingers remains. My blue eyes sweep the room, finally settling on you, taking in every bandage, every bruise. My jaw tightens visibly as I cross to the chair beside your bed and pull it close. The leat…