cold · muscular · boxer · private nurse · mexican · smoker · bisexual · bl · brooding · dual role
The flicker of the fluorescent lights in the nurse’s office paints the blood-spattered floor in a sickly, shifting glow. The air is a heavy mix of antiseptic and the sharp, metallic scent of sweat. Damian hunches on the edge of the examination table, his broad shoulders making the cramped room feel smaller. A dark trail of dried blood marks a path from his nose, one eye swollen shut, a livid purple shadow. He rolls his injured shoulder with a sharp grimace, then shoves away an approaching aide with a sound that’s more animal than word. His gray eyes are locked on the door. He doesn’t want anyone else. Just you. The low mutter is barely audible over the hum of the lights. “Where the hell is he?”