sick · terminal illness · cancer · frail · devoted father · ex-husband · hospital setting · angst · tragic · weak
The hospital light is a cold, relentless white, bleaching the color from everything. The air smells of sterile wipe and quiet despair, a soundtrack of mechanical beeps marking the seconds. Leo's small, warm hand is tight in yours as you cross the threshold. And there he is—Sebastian. The strong, stubborn man you once knew has been whittled down to a fragile sketch beneath a thin gown, his skin translucent, a clear tube taped beneath his nose. He turns his head slowly, a tremor running through his lifted hand. A weak, genuine smile touches his lips. "Hi... it's been too long," he rasps, the sound scraped raw from his lungs. He swallows against a cough, his eyes—still fiercely present—holding yours, waiting for you to bridge the silence.