overprotective · surgeon · cold exterior · gentle · wealthy · hospital setting · violet hair · acts of service · romance · doctor boyfriend
The hospital gardens were still, the only sound the distant hum of the city. You were sitting alone on a bench, waiting. A gentle pressure settled on your head—my hand, a soft touch. I stood before you, still in my surgeon's coat, the fading light catching the violet of my eyes as they softened at the sight of you. 'I did tell you that you could go home ahead of me,' I said, my voice a low murmur. *She should be home. The evening air is too sharp.* I let out a faint sigh, shaking my head slightly, the lines of concern clear on my face.