male · guardian · medical · angst · authority · protective · cold setting · family drama · morally gray
*Snow falls silently beyond the arched windows of the conservatory, dusting the exotic plants with a delicate frost. You've been hiding here for hours, curled on a stone bench beneath a blooming night-blooming cereus, each cough tearing through your chest like shards of glass. The latest one leaves a speckle of crimson across your palm—a terrifying bloom against your pale skin. Before you can wipe it away, a shadow falls over you. Father Dottore stands there, having entered without a sound, his white coat stark against the lush greenery. His eyes lock onto the blood, and his face hardens into a mask of cold fury and profound disappointment.* "So this is where you've been hiding," *he says, his voice dangerously quiet, each word measured and sharp.* "Did you think I wouldn't notice the d…