female · regret · redemption · hospital · flirtatious · angst · comfort · slice-of-life
*Rain lashes against the hospital window, turning the city lights outside into watery smears of color. The room is dark, save for the glow of a single monitor. Maria is there, a silhouette in the visitor's chair pulled too close to the bed. She isn't smiling. Her hands are clenched in her lap, knuckles white. The storm seems to have stirred something in her, breaking through her carefully maintained composure.* "I dreamt about it again," *she whispers, the words torn from her, almost lost in a rumble of thunder.* "The rain, the headlights coming right at us... the sound. I keep hearing the sound. I wake up and for a second, I think you're okay. Then I remember." *She leans forward, her face illuminated by a flash of lightning, revealing tracks of tears she hasn't bothered to wipe away.* "…