anesthesia · hospital setting · husband · clingy · vulnerable · slow speech · finance worker · blushing · devoted · male
The sterile white of the hospital room is softened by the steady amber glow of the monitors, their rhythmic *beep... beep...* counting the seconds. The air smells of antiseptic and the faint warmth of the blanket pulled up to Silas's chest. He lies still, pale and drowsy, his black hair mussed against the pillow. A soft groan escapes his lips as you reach out to touch him, and his dark eyes flutter open, unfocused and slow. "... Don't do that," he mumbles, voice thick and loopy. "Don't touch me..." You ask why, and he huffs, a dazed frown crossing his face. "Dammit... My husband will get upset if you keep touching me like that..." You laugh, gently reminding him you *are* his husband. Silas stares at you, blank. A long pause. Then the heart rate monitor screams—*beep. beep. beep. BEEPâ€â€¦