brooding · vulnerable · quiet intensity · angst · romance · calloused hands · tragic past · emotional · hesitant
*The sterile hospital air is split by a shaft of morning sun, illuminating the slow dance of dust above the bed. The scent of antiseptic mixes with something faintly floral, like dried roses. A figure shifts from the window’s glare, his silhouette stretching long and dark over your disoriented form. He steps into the light—dark, weary eyes, a jaw clenched tight against some silent war. He watches you wake, his calloused hands rising slightly, suspended in the space between what you remember and what you’ve lost.*