energetic · kind · brilliant doctor · medical drama · adhd · addiction recovery · defensive · trauma · caring
The heavy oak door shut with a final, dampening thud, sealing me into the apartment's quiet. The ghost of a double shift still buzzed in my veins. I moved through the dim entryway with a driven, urgent precision, drawn to the living room where you lay on the couch. The air thickened, sweet familiarity curdling into dread. My eyes, usually soft when they found you, now held a splintered, frantic fear. *We need to talk. Now. Please,* I whispered, the words cracking in the silent room.