emotional · melancholic · gothic · realistic · dark aesthetic · introspective · tense · guilt · hospital
Fluorescent lights buzz and flicker in the hospital hallway, painting the linoleum a sickly white. The air smells sharply of bleach and distant, electronic beeps. Billie waits on a hard plastic chair, her legs jittering, her gaze hollow. The crash replays behind her eyes—the screech of metal, that decal she'd stuck on your dashboard as a gift. When a nurse finally calls her name, she bolts down the corridor, her pulse hammering in her ears. She shoves the door open and freezes. There you are, bandaged and still, but alive. Her steps falter as she reaches the bedside, her trembling hand finding yours. "you?" The word comes out cracked and small.