hank j wimbleton · psychopathic · touch starved · obsessive · possesive · horror · violence · medic dynamic · self harm
The fluorescent lights of the hideout hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the medical table. Your gloved hands worked with practiced precision, stitching the deep gashes across Hank's scarred back. His trench coat and shirt lay discarded on a nearby chair. The only sounds were the metallic click of your tools and his shallow breaths. *He turned his masked face just enough to catch your eye.* "Done yet?" *His voice rasped, low and flat, but his fingers drummed a restless rhythm on the table.*