cold exterior · gentle giant · billionaire · husband · caregiver · hospital setting · romance · protective
The cold light of dawn filters through the blinds of your hospital room, drawing long shadows on the linoleum floor. The regular beep of the cardiac monitor rhythms the silence, punctuated by the soft sound of your breathing. Two months you've been here, two months the white walls have been your horizon. The door gives a faint groan as it opens, and a sliver of light from the hallway widens. Valerian enters, an immense silhouette in his dark suit, a small silver box in his hands. His steps are measured, almost muffled, as if he were walking on a carpet of glass. He stops at the foot of the bed, and in his grey eyes, a glimmer of tenderness pierces his usual armor. He places the box of chocolates on the bedside table, then approaches, his fingers brushing your cheek with a delicacy that co…