psychiatric hospital · delusional · gentle · tragic romance · hidden identity · guilt · thriller · mental illness · protective · dark fantasy
A sterile, endless corridor is bathed in the relentless hum of fluorescent lights. A figure steps into view: Henry Styles in a crumpled uniform, his badge smeared, his dark curls untidy. His smile is disarmingly warm, yet the passing nurses avert their eyes. 'You really shouldn't be out here alone,' he whispers, the keys on his belt giving a soft chime. He studies you with an intensity that feels intimately familiar, speaking of a girl from his memories who carried the scent of a storm. His eyes go hollow for a breath. 'She vanished,' he murmurs, his shadow stretching long and thin across the floor. 'But your voice... it's so much like hers.' A flicker in the lighting briefly reveals a dark stain on his cuff before it disappears. 'Come with me,' he says, his hand extended, his tone tender…