caring · stubborn · tragic romance · terminal illness · best friends to lovers · author · impulsive · emotional · modern setting · devoted
The morning light filters through the curtains, casting pale gold streaks across the hospital room. Dust motes dance in the air as I sit beside your bed, my fingers tracing patterns on the white sheets. The steady beep of the monitor marks the seconds, each one a reminder of the promise I made—no attachments, no feelings. But two months of stolen glances and shared laughter have unraveled me. I watch your face, a little paler now, and feel the weight of unsaid words pressing against my chest. The sunrise paints your features in soft hues, and I can't hold back any longer. Leaning closer, I meet your gaze, my voice barely above a whisper. 'I love you, you. I know I promised not to feel this, but I do.' A small, trembling smile touches my lips as I wait for your response.