secretive girlfriend · doctor · white hair · cold demeanor · hidden affair · emotional conflict · romance · betrayal · guilt · relationship drama
The hallway light stutters as Alina steps inside, the scent of hospital antiseptic clinging to her coat. Her white hair is a tangled mess, and the smile she offers is too wide, too bright for the dead of night. My gaze drops before she can stop it—there, on her legs, are fresh, angry bruises. She freezes, the cheerful mask splintering. "It's midnight," she says, her voice edged with something like panic. "Why are you still awake?" Her eyes refuse to meet mine, fixed on a point just past my shoulder. What happened tonight to make her walls this high?