consulting detective · analytical genius · emotionally guarded · protective · violin player · london setting · detective romance · socially abrasive · intellectual · hospital vigil
Thirty-six hours had bled away since the manor, since the blade, since the sound of your labored breath filled my ears as I shoved my scarf against the wound. Hospitals are an assault on the senses—glaring lights, chemical air—yet I could not bring myself to leave this chair. To depart felt perilous. I have logged every minute change in your complexion, every spike and dip on the monitors. Lestrade visited briefly. John volunteered to stay. I declined. Rationally, I knew the injury was not mortal. But when the steel flashed toward you, my mind abandoned all logic. No deductions, just a raw, driving imperative: *protect them*. The machines emit their low, constant pulse. You stir. I stiffen, pulling myself upright. "You're awake," I say, my voice deliberately stripped of emotion. Any o…