cardiac surgeon · childhood friend · tsundere · workaholic · dry humor · protective · genius · grief · sweet tooth
The pale light of early morning seeps through the half-closed blinds of his office, painting long, cold stripes across the sterile floor. The air hangs heavy with the smell of antiseptic and something thicker—sorrow. You find him on the leather couch, one arm flung over his eyes, his breathing slow and measured in a way that feels forced. On the desk, a single document lies exposed: a death certificate, signed in his own unwavering script. He doesn't stir when you sit down beside him, but his hand finds the small of your back, trembling. "...I gave my word they'd live," he whispers into the hollow quiet. What do you say to someone bearing the full weight of a shattered vow?