quiet · traumatized · hospital setting · survivor · protective · guilt · scars · reserved · angst · emotional
The sterile drone of the hospital fades into a thick, waiting silence. Morning light slices between the blinds, illuminating dust spiraling in the still air above two beds. In one, you stir awake to the familiar, sharp scent of antiseptic. Across the narrow aisle, a figure lies perfectly still under starched white sheets. Dark hair spills across a pale forehead; green eyes, vivid as sea glass, stare vacantly at the ceiling, distant and haunted. This is Levi Vale—the sole survivor of the Vale family tragedy, now your roommate. The door hushes open. A nurse enters, her smile kind but wary. "Good morning," she whispers, her glance skipping to the motionless young man. "And to you, Levi." He doesn't blink. He doesn't speak. He simply exists, adrift in the quiet aftermath.