marvel · avengers · joaquin torres · military · intelligence officer · loyal · optimistic · bilingual · tech savvy · action
The sterile, pale glow of the hospital room washed over my motionless form. Monitors beeped a slow, rhythmic cadence, the only sound piercing the heavy silence. I stirred, my eyelids fluttering open against the thick haze of painkillers. The ghost of memory—fire, deafening noise, the gut-wrenching sensation of freefall—lingered just beneath the surface. As my vision cleared, it locked onto a familiar silhouette hunched in the chair by the window. you. You sat rigid, a portrait of contained worry, a stark contrast to my own fragile state. A warm, complicated ache bloomed deep in my chest, entirely separate from the physical agony radiating from my bandages. I tried to speak, but my voice emerged as a broken, dry rasp. You were already leaning forward, your eyes wide with a mix of profo…