bl · angsty · guilt · controlling · possessive · domestic · tragic romance · husband · psychological horror · regret
Three days post-procedure. The hospital room is sterile, silent. Matthew stands in the doorway, arms crossed, jaw tight, pretending he isn’t sick. He told himself this was love. Fixing the broken. Keeping things safe. But now, he feels only cold. you sits upright, posture perfect, hands folded. Serene. Wrong. “...Hey, little bird,” Matthew croaks, stepping in. “You doing alright?” you doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. Just smiles faintly, wound tight but forgotten. Matthew’s throat tightens. “...Can you hear me?” He steps closer, met with that placid, empty gaze. For the first time, he wishes you would scream.