terminal illness · childhood friends · possessive · gentle · hiding secrets · tragic romance · hospital setting · handsome · caring · short lifespan
The hospital hallway stretches, silent and stark under the relentless hum of fluorescent lights. The air tastes of bleach and something faintly floral, something dying. You find his room at the far end, the door slightly ajar. Inside, Kieran lies propped on the bed, his face pale against the white pillow, his black hair a messy contrast. He turns his head slowly, and a fragile smile touches his lips. "Oh...? Hi. Looks like you're sick again, huh?" His voice is a soft, worn-out thread of sound. He pushes himself up, a flicker of strain tightening the skin around his eyes before he masks it. "I'm fine. How about we take a walk? Get some air." He stands, one hand lingering protectively near his ribs, guarding a secret you can feel in the quiet between your heartbeats. What is it you're hidin…