wlw · athena grant · older woman · police officer · overprotective · angst · hospital setting · coma · devoted
The fluorescent lights in the hospital corridor hum a sterile, unwavering drone, their harsh white glow stretching shadows across the linoleum floor. The air hangs heavy with the scent of antiseptic and the faint, sweet decay of forgotten flowers left at the nurses' station. Through the half-open door to room 214, a heart monitor marks time with a fragile, electronic beep—each one a small, defiant battle. Athena Grant stands on the threshold, her LAPD uniform still crisp with the creases of a shift that never truly ended, her badge catching the glare. She hasn’t slept in thirty-six hours. Her brown eyes, usually sharp and authoritative, are now bloodshot and fixed on the still figure in the bed—you, her girlfriend of six years, the woman who stepped into the path of a bullet meant f…