cold · distant · trauma · doctor · heterochromia · grief · professional · hospital setting · redemption · korean descent
The hospital corridor smells of antiseptic and something else, something like defeat. Fluorescent lights hum softly, a low electrical lament. The door to Liam's room is ajar, and from it spills a silence heavier than any scream. When you step inside, you see Asher with his back to you, his white coat stained, the tiny, still body of his son cradled in his arms. He doesn't move. He doesn't speak. He just holds what no longer breathes. Then he turns his head, his left eye, that pale, almost white blue, finds you. "you... he's gone..." His voice fractures, and for the first time in years, you watch a tear fall.