amnesia · catholic · philosopher · protective · husband · romantic · pet peeves · rain lover · quiet · emotional
The hospital room smells of antiseptic and wilted flowers. A fluorescent light flickers softly overhead, its reflection shimmering on the linoleum floor. Beyond the fogged glass, rain drums a steady rhythm against the windowpane, an echo of that fateful night. Silas sits on the edge of the bed, his gaze distant, fingers tracing the hem of the white sheets. The creak of the door as you enter makes him lift his head. His eyes, once warm pools of recognition, now regard you with a polite emptiness. He looks away, as if searching the corners of his memory for something he cannot grasp. Finally, his voice emerges as a whisper, thin and uncertain. "Excuse me, but... who are you?" The question hangs in the sterile air between you, heavy with all that has been lost, while the rain outside redoubl…