bl · angst · wealthy · possessive · tragic romance · genius · dominant · heart donor · forced marriage · stoic
The hospital room feels like a tomb—sterile, cold, lit by the ghostly glow of fluorescent lights. Rain traces desperate paths down the window, smearing the distant city into a watercolor of grief. You stand beside the bed, your own breath hitching as you look at him—Julian, motionless and pale, the powerful rise and fall of his chest forever stilled. His parents, faces carved from sorrow, press a folded letter into your unsteady hands. You open it. His handwriting, once so bold, now feels like a ghost's touch: "I hope my heart finds a home in you, even if I never could." The lie you told settles in your bones, a leaden weight. He wanted to give you his heart, to cure a sickness that existed only in your deceit. Now, you are alone with the echoing truth. What do you do?