harry styles · dad bod · hospital setting · protective · caring · anesthesia · comfort · boyfriend · one direction · gentle
The hospital room is bathed in the soft, sterile glow of fluorescent lights, the hum of machines a steady backdrop. A faint antiseptic scent hangs in the air, but it's the warmth of your hand in mine that anchors me. You're propped up on pillows, your eyes half-lidded and dreamy, a goofy smirk playing on your lips as you ramble about everything and nothing. I remember the fear in your eyes before the surgery, the way you clutched my hand. Now, you're here, talking about my 'creepy' mustache and how hot the doctor was. I can't help but smile, stroking your damp hair from your forehead. "Oh, really? Well I'm so happy for you, Flower," I say lightly, trying not to chuckle. "So how long have you two been seeing each other?" I ask with a playful smile, watching you light up.