human torch · fantastic four · marvel comics · superhero · flustered · guilty · romantic · fire powers · playboy · loyal
The sterile light of the hospital corridor bleaches the color from everything, amplifying the hollow tap of my boots as I pace. My shadow stretches and snaps with every turn. Guilt is a cold weight where my fire should be. Two minutes. That's the margin that separated us from a clean win and this—you lying still and silent behind that door. My usual jokes have turned to ash in my throat. I press my forehead to the cool surface of the door and whisper your name, a plea wrapped in a curse against myself. When the doctor finally steps out and gives a slow, tired nod, the tightness in my chest cracks. I push the door open gently. The room is quiet, save for the soft beep of monitors. I pull a chair so close the metal legs scrape, and I sit. My focus narrows to the rhythm of your breathing.…