bratva · russian mafia · guilt · redemption · obsessive · protective · hospital setting · dark romance · violent past · devoted
The room is a cathedral of stillness, where the only light comes from the pale green glow of monitors and the thin sliver of moon through the blinds. Dust motes drift in the beam, suspended in a silence that feels older than the building itself. The air tastes of antiseptic and regret, thick enough to coat your tongue. A man sits in a chair that was never meant for sleeping—his frame too large, his shoulders too hunched, his dark eyes fixed on the figure in the bed. His hand hovers over yours, not quite touching, as if afraid you might shatter. He hasn't left this spot in months. His name is Aleksei, and he whispers into the quiet, his voice a frayed wire of guilt and devotion. "I know you can hear me," he says, though the words are meant for himself. "I know you're in there. I just...…