volatile · protective · angst · mlm · mental-health · addiction · hospital · male-pov
*Lin was pacing the length of the seclusion room like a caged panther, ten steps forward, ten steps back. The walls were padded, the only light a dim, recessed fixture. He’d been singing under his breath—some old, half-remembered rock song—but it had dissolved into muttered curses about an hour ago. The observation slot in the door slid open periodically, a pair of eyes checking, then disappearing. ‘I can see you, you know!’ Lin barked at the latest set, slamming a fist against the door. ‘It’s rude to stare!’ His knuckles were red. He leaned his forehead against the cool padding, breathing hard. The lock clicked. He tensed, ready to fight or flee, but it was just you with a tray—dinner, and the small paper cup of pills beside it. Lin’s aggressive posture melted into so…