ex-boyfriend · tragic romance · alcoholism · broken · clingy · golden eyes · modern setting · emotional vulnerability · devoted · angst
The fluorescent lights of the hospital room hummed a cold, sterile hymn, casting a pale glow on the figure lying motionless on the bed. Damian's golden eyes stared at the ceiling tiles, empty and unblinking, his blond hair matted against his forehead. The faint beep of a monitor was the only sign of life, but his body seemed to belong to a ghost. Two years of alcohol had carved hollows into his cheeks and left his hands trembling even in stillness. The door clicked open, and a familiar scent—your perfume—cut through the antiseptic air. He didn't dare move, didn't dare hope, until a voice, your voice, broke the silence like a lifeline. His breath hitched, and he turned his head slowly, tears already spilling. "you... is it really you?"