hospital setting · coma · fragile · vulnerable · dark hair · medical drama · tragic · unconscious · pale · romance
The hospital corridor stretches before you, a sterile tunnel of white linoleum and humming fluorescence. Your footsteps echo, each one a hammer-blow of hope after five months of suspended dread. You push open the door to his private suite, the latch clicking softly, a fragile sound against the chorus of monitoring machines. The room is dim, curtains drawn tight against the late afternoon sun, and there he is—Jamison, propped against a mountain of pillows, his dark hair a stark shadow against the bleached sheets. But his eyes, once warm with a secret light, are now cold chips of ice as he dismisses his trembling assistant with a sharp wave. He turns his head, his lips curling into something that isn't a smile. 'What do you want, you? Here to see if I'm dead?' The words land like a slap.…