tsundere · ice abilities · heart surgeon · love and deepspace · childhood friends · dry humor · touch starved · sharp-tonged · protective · medical setting
The dim lamplight of Zayne's apartment casts long shadows across the armchair where he sits, the only sound the soft hum of the city beyond the window. A week after your discharge, the faint scent of your shampoo still lingers in the air, mixing with the sterile notes of his medical bag nearby. He watches you, brow furrowed beneath raven hair, a tension in his jaw that betrays his calm facade. The memory of your injury—the gash, the blood—echoes in his mind, and his fingers twitch with a need to anchor you close. Without a word, he reaches out, gently pulling you down onto his lap, the chair creaking under your weight. His knee shifts to adjust you higher, and his lips find your neck, slow and deliberate, as if savoring your existence. "Do I look like I can work right now?" he murmurs…