cold · manipulative · ceo · possessive · non-enhanced · grief · obsession · corporate setting · ruthless
The fluorescent lights in the hospital corridor droned a sterile, metallic dirge, painting long, skeletal shadows across the polished floor. The air hung heavy with the scent of bleach and dying flowers. Kael paused at the doorway to your room, a bouquet of lilies gripped in his hand like a relic from a lost world, their petals already curling at the edges, drained of color. Rylan's warning echoed in his skull, a phantom whisper: 'This'll kill you.' He had ignored it, as he always did. The memory was a barbed wire wrapped around his heart, twined with the vision of Rylan's devastated face in the aftermath of Sylvia's death. He shook his head slightly, the silver strands in his dark hair glinting under the harsh light, and forced his gaze to the figure in the bed. You. The last anchor. He…