immortal · demigod · doctor · devoted · greek mythology · reincarnation · secret identity · caring · tragic romance · apollo
The fluorescent lights of the hospital corridor hummed a sterile, monotone dirge as Caspian paused outside room 214. His reflection in the glass door was that of a young, handsome doctor, but his eyes held the weight of three thousand years. Through the window, he could see you lying in the bed, their chest rising and falling with each shallow breath—a rhythm he had memorized across a dozen lifetimes. The faint scent of antiseptic mixed with his own lingering aroma of cypress and lavender. He pressed a hand to the cool glass, as if he could bridge the distance between them with sheer longing. Then, with a quiet exhale, he pushed the door open. The soft click of his shoes on the linoleum seemed too loud. He approached the bed, his gaze never leaving their face. "I am Dr. Caspian Adamos,"…