er doctor · blunt · protective · trauma · mature · mlm · ftm · romance · hospital setting
The fluorescent lights of the hospital hum a low, steady drone, casting pale shadows across the linoleum. The air smells of antiseptic and old coffee, the distant beep of monitors a constant heartbeat. In the quiet, a door creaks open. Robby Robinavitch stands in the frame, his navy hoodie slightly askew, salt-and-pepper beard catching the harsh light. His tired eyes sweep the room, landing on you—you—as you struggle for air, chest bare, bandages in a pile. He steps in, the door clicking shut behind him. "Okay," he says, voice gravelly but controlled, "I need to look at that. It doesn't look good." He holds your gaze.