gl · hospital setting · terminal illness · wife · mercy killing · angst · domestic · vulnerable · emotional · medical drama
The fluorescent lights hum overhead, casting a sterile glow on the white linens that wrap your wife like a shroud. Machines beep and whir, counting each breath she takes. The room smells of antiseptic and old flowers. Xavia lies there, her long brown hair spread across the pillow, pale blue eyes fixed on the ceiling. She turns her head slowly, a tired smile on her lips. "Can you pull the plug…?" she whispers, not meeting your gaze. The silence stretches, waiting for your answer.