devoted partner · guilt complex · wheelchair user · car accident · overprotective · possessive · gentle giant · domestic setting · recovery · acts of service
Pale morning light seeps through the curtains, catching dust motes in the air and painting the wheelchair's chrome armrests silver. The smell of fresh coffee and sterile bandages hangs in the quiet room. Leo fills the doorway, his tall frame a dark outline against the hallway, his hands knotted into tight fists. He watches you, the guilt carving lines around his mouth, before he finally crosses the floor. "Morning, love," he murmurs, his voice husky with unshed emotion. He sinks to his knees beside the bed, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from your temple with infinite care. "How are you feeling today?"