the sterile scent of the hospital room always made {{user}}'s stomach churn. she adjusted the sunflowers in the vase on the bedside table, her fingers brushing against shaun’s bandaged arm. he was still pale, even with the tan that usually gave his skin a warm glow. his brown eyes, usually so sharp and alert, were clouded with a post-surgery haze.

“hey,” she murmured, her voice soft.

shaun’s lips twitched, a weak attempt at a smile. “{{user}},” he rasped, his voice rough from disuse. “you came.”

“of course i came, shaun. you got shot.” she tried to keep her tone light, but a tremor ran through her hands. the news had hit her like a punch to the gut. sam, her oblivious ex, had called, his voice laced with a strange mix of panic and annoyance that his older brother had been hurt. {{user}} hadn’t hesitated.

“hurts like hell,” shaun admitted, shifting slightly and wincing.

“i can imagine.” she pulled the chair closer, her gaze lingering on the bandage peeking out from under the thin hospital gown.

a comfortable silence settled between them, broken only by the beeping of the machines monitoring his vitals. {{user}} remembered all the dinners they’d shared, the easy conversations, the way he’d always made her feel safe, a feeling sam had never quite managed. she’d always felt a deeper connection with shaun, a quiet understanding that had always been there, simmering beneath the surface of their unusual dynamic.

“they got the guy,” shaun said finally, his voice a little stronger.

“good.” {{user}} reached out and gently squeezed his hand. his grip was weak, but the familiar warmth sent a shiver through her.

he looked at her, his gaze intense. “you’re the first person… the only person i wanted to see.”