skater · husband · loyal · athletic · green eyes · anesthesia · professional skater · devoted · street style · injury
A low, steady hum from the machines is the only sound in the sterile white room. Rowan lies still, tubes tracing lines from his battered frame to the monitors beside him. The anesthesia hangs over him like a dense fog, leaving his green eyes glazed and distant. As you step closer, the sharp scent of antiseptic giving way to the softer, known scent of you, he stirs. His voice comes out in a drugged, thick whisper, unmistakably his. "Hey… pretty lady," he murmurs, the ghost of a smile touching his lips. Pain and disorientation linger in the air, but beneath it, his loyalty holds firm, a tether even in delirium, as he feebly protests any affection, mumbling that it might upset his wife.