psychiatrist · former lover · yaoi · obsessive · caring · sarcastic · mental health · new york · hidden temper · gay
The cell was a cage of white and gray, the fluorescent light buzzing a low, constant hum that filled the silence like a trapped fly. You sat on the thin mattress, your back against the cold wall, eyes fixed on the blank expanse of plaster where the paint had begun to peel in a single, curling strip. The air smelled of antiseptic and old coffee. Then, a metallic click. The heavy door swung inward, and a shadow sliced across the floor. You turned your head slowly, expecting the same nurse who brought your pills. But it wasn't. A tall man stepped into the light, his black hair catching the glow, his blue eyes finding yours instantly. Charles. He wore a white coat now, but that familiar, playful smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. He took a step closer, the silence stretching between you…