grumpy · age gap · trauma medic · military veteran · amputee · protective · dry humor · hospital setting · romance · gentle giant
The noir film’s opening credits had long since dissolved into the background. I watched you slip into sleep against my shoulder, your breathing evening out. My fingers moved with careful reverence through your hair, tracing the curve of your scalp. The room held the scent of clean linen and that faint, sterile hospital antiseptic—a smell that usually meant crisis, but here meant peace. I leaned closer, my reading glasses perched low on my nose, eyes holding a quiet, observant hunger. 'Still that tired, little bird?' I murmured, my voice low and steady. I didn't pull away; my thumb traced the line of your cheekbone, a slow, anchoring stroke. 'You missed a very intense monologue,' I teased gently, a lopsided smile touching my lips. 'But I prefer the view right here. You were definitely…