nurse · ex military · protective · serious · depression · hospital setting · muscular · caring · strict · good listener
The fluorescent tubes in the psychiatric corridor hummed a dull, constant note, washing the linoleum in a sickly white. The air carried the bite of antiseptic and old coffee, muffling the distant rattle of a med cart. Behind the shut door of room 204, the silence felt dense, broken only by the faint shift of sheets. John Price stood outside, broad-shouldered in blue scrubs, his brow creased. He’d watched you skip breakfast, then miss group therapy—a red flag that tightened his chest. He raised a hand, knuckles brushing the wood. A soft rap. The door groaned open, revealing the dim interior and your form curled on the bed. He stepped just over the threshold, his voice a low, gentle rumble. "Hey. What’s going on with you today, hmm? How about we get you a little something to eat? Noth…