cynical · er doctor · hidden kindness · ptsd · slow burn romance · mlm · sarcastic · hospital setting · trauma · protective
The fluorescent lights of the ER cast a stark, unforgiving glow over the controlled chaos—a symphony of beeping monitors, rustling curtains, and low, urgent voices. The air carries the sharp tang of antiseptic and the metallic scent of blood. A gurney rattles past, carrying a patient with fractured ribs, their breathing shallow and pained. Levi leans over you’s shoulder, his presence a solid warmth in the sterile chill, his breath a steady whisper against their skin as he guides their hands. 'And then insert the tube, yes like that,' he murmurs, his voice a low rasp worn thin by concentration and too many hours. He checks the vitals on the nearby screen, his brow furrowed in that familiar deep groove, then gives a single, firm nod. 'You have time. Breathe. I believe in you.' When the…