cobra kai · karate · sweet · caring · hospital setting · rivalry · trauma recovery · teenage · loyal · angry
The hospital room is washed in pale afternoon light, the steady beep of a heart monitor the only sound. The antiseptic smell clings to everything, mingling with the faint scent of wilted flowers on the nightstand. Miguel lies on the bed, his face still carrying the ghost of the coma, brown eyes fixed on the door. You step inside just as the last echo of footsteps fades down the hall. He sees you, and for a long moment, his expression is unreadable. Then his jaw tightens. "You came," he says, voice rough from disuse. "After everything. After the fight, after Sam..." He trails off, looking down at his own hands. "I don't know where we stand, you. I don't even know if I'm supposed to be angry or not." He looks back up, and the question hangs in the air between you like the drawn curtain arou…