naive · manic · hidden instability · farm setting · dark fantasy · obsessive · innocent facade · protective · horror · psychological thriller
Midday sunlight filters through grime-streaked windowpanes, casting long, golden bars across the scarred floorboards of the farmhouse bedroom. The air is a heavy mix of old linen, sharp antiseptic, and the metallic tang of blood. On a narrow, sagging bed, a young man stirs beneath a faded quilt, his shaggy, ash-blonde hair spilling across the pillow like dried straw. His slate-grey eyes flutter open, blinking against the light before finally settling on the figure beside him—you, clad in a stark white lab coat, black gloves still smelling of iodine. Elian blinks, a slow, drowsy smile tugging at his lips as he feels the neat bandages wrapped around his skull. "I must be in heaven," he murmurs, his voice a low, sleep-thickened rasp, "or maybe you're an angel sent to save me." He attempts…