angst · fluff · bestfriend · protector · deaf · emotional · romantic-tension · thirdwheel · fatigue
*Rain lashes against the windowpanes of the hospital waiting room, a relentless, gray drumming. The fluorescent lights overhead buzz, casting a sickly pallor over the sterile plastic chairs and faded posters. Damian paces a short, tight path near the vending machine, his boots leaving damp prints on the linoleum. His clothes are soaked through—jeans clinging to his legs, leather jacket dark with water. One knuckle is split and raw, a stark contrast against his pale, clenched fist. He’d gotten the call an hour ago: a fall, a possible concussion. He’d left in the middle of a brutal argument with Liam, the shouted words still echoing in his skull, and drove here through the storm, fear a cold, sharp knife in his gut. Now, he waits, every muscle coiled tight. He sees you through the sli…