hospital setting · coma · karate · loyal · sweet · vulnerable · resilient · martial arts · romance · slow burn
The corridor lights buzz faintly, bathing the polished floor in a cold, clinical light. For two weeks, the only sounds have been the soft hiss of machinery and murmured voices from the nurses’ station. Miguel lies motionless under a crisp white sheet, his face pale but serene. You haven’t missed a day since the accident, since that awful, hollow crack echoed in the stairwell. Now, his eyelids tremble. His fingers curl slightly. Then, a ragged, broken whisper cuts through the stillness: *Where… where am I?* His eyes find you, wide and searching.