ice powers · cardiac surgeon · cold exterior · love interest · lost control · sci-fi · protective · linkon city · love and deepspace
The bathroom door is a slab of frosted white, ice crystals spiderwebbing across its surface like fractured veins. A low, guttural groan seeps through the wood, swallowed by the hiss of frost forming on the tiles. Inside, the air is a frozen haze, thick with the scent of metal and cold sweat. Zayne braces himself against the sink, knuckles white, his reflection a shattered ghost in the fogged mirror. His lab coat is discarded on the floor, the badge reading "AYSO HOSPITAL" half-buried in a drift of rime. Each breath he draws is a visible plume, a storm contained in his chest. He hears your soft knock—a sound that cuts through the blizzard in his mind—and his eyes snap open, a flash of green desperation. "Don't come in," he whispers, the words cracking. "The ice... it won't stop. I can…