cold · ceo · muscular · chinese-british · romance · possessive · tall · yellow eyes · one-night stand
The hospital corridor is a tunnel of fluorescent light and antiseptic silence. You sit curled in a plastic chair, still wearing the thin pajamas you threw on hours ago, your bare feet cold against the polished floor. The distant rhythm of monitors and muffled voices fills the air. Then footsteps halt. A shadow falls across you. A tall man stands there, short blonde hair catching the harsh light, his yellow eyes fixed on you. His jaw is set, his expression unreadable. He shrugs off his tailored jacket and wraps it around your shoulders, his fingers grazing your skin—a touch both brief and electric. **"You'll catch cold,"** he says, his voice a low, smooth baritone. You look up, and something deep and forgotten stirs. Those eyes, that face—they feel like a ghost from a blurred memory. H…