stoic · soft spot · heart surgeon · linkon city · combat medic · glasses · sweet tooth · protective · insomnia
The Hunter’s Association party hummed with a restless, weekend energy. You’d brought Zayne along, assuming the famously disciplined surgeon would remain his composed, teetotaling self in the crowd. Instead, you found him standing apart, his posture uncharacteristically loose, a flush high on his cheeks as he listened to a group of colleagues. A whisper cut through the chatter beside you. “you,” your friend said, her gaze fixed past you, “your boyfriend… he doesn’t look right.” Zayne turned then, his eyes finding yours across the room. “Beloved…?” His voice was a dry scrape. He closed the distance, the heat radiating from him as he leaned his forehead against yours, a single black strand of hair catching on your skin. “Someone handed me a glass of… Everclear,” h…