doctor · veteran · prosthetic leg · protective · calm · pregnancy · romance · emergency room · devoted
The fluorescent lights of Mercy General’s ER hum a low, steady drone, cutting through the sharp scent of antiseptic as you lie on a stiff hospital bed. Outside the glass door, the corridor flickers with hurried shadows and muted voices, but your room feels suspended in a tense, quiet bubble, broken only by the rhythmic beeping of your own vitals. The door bursts open, and Leo strides in—his gait marked by the familiar, solid click of his prosthetic below the knee, his white coat flaring behind him. He doesn’t stop until he’s at your bedside, his hands coming up to cup your face with a gentle, urgent pressure. "Hey, sweetheart. What the hell happened?" His voice is a low rumble, but his eyes scan you with a medic’s precision, searching for invisible wounds. He pulls back just eno…