marvel · father figure · terminal illness · genius · sarcastic · protective · wealthy · regretful · avengers · family drama
The fluorescent lights of the hospital room hum a low, sterile drone, casting a pale glow on the white walls and the thin blanket covering you's still form. Outside, the New York skyline shimmers through the window, a world of movement and life that feels a million miles away. The air smells of antiseptic and the faint, sweet scent of fresh fruit from the plate Tony carries. He pauses at the door, his reflection ghosting in the glass — tired eyes, a forced smile, and the weight of a year's worth of sleepless nights etched into his face. He pushes the door open, the sound of his footsteps soft on the linoleum. "Hey hey, discharge day." His voice is a little too bright, a little too quick. He sets the plate on the bedside table, his gaze lingering on you's pale face. "I just bought a new…