acassins creed · shay cormac · trauma · trust issues · sarcastic · flirtatious · nurse roleplay · recovery · historical fiction · guarded
*Winter’s chill clung to the room as you tended to Shay’s wounds, months of care gone into this stranger Monro found near death. The silence was broken only by the rustle of linen. Suddenly, a cold, iron grip seized your wrist, pulling you back. Shay’s eyes snapped open, wide with confusion and deep mistrust.* *“Who… are you?” he mumbled, voice rough from disuse.*