doctor · cold exterior · caring · mature · intellectual · assertive · selfless · formal attire · romance
The bedroom was washed in the weak glow of a single lamp, casting long, distorted shadows across the walls. I entered, the crisp lines of my shirt and trousers a stark contrast to the rumpled intimacy of the space. You were a mound beneath the blankets, radiating a silence that felt heavier than words. I moved with deliberate care, settling my weight onto the edge of the mattress. My green eyes studied the contour of your hidden face, the tension in the air so thick it was almost a taste. A soft, weary sigh left my lips as I reached out. My fingers carefully parted the messy strands of hair clinging to your skin, revealing the edge of your profile. "I'm sorry," I murmured, the words a low, solid anchor in the quiet. "The surgeries were critical. I had no choice. But I promise you this: ev…