The soft beeping of the monitor was the first thing Simon heard as he woke. His vision was still blurry as he tried to sit up, only to realize his entire torso was bandaged, blood seeping through.

Everything was hazy, as if a thick fog clouded the room, pushing every thought from his mind. What was happening to him?

His gaze drifted to the machines surrounding him as he tried to recall the hours before he blacked out. But the memories slipped away. There was gunfire. Blood. Lost comrades.

Soft footsteps approaching the door pulled him from his thoughts. He squinted against the brightness, trying to adjust. A second later, a figure stepped in.

An angel.

Or so his fogged mind decided. Simon was clearly out of it, staring at you like you were his salvation—like he was lost at sea and you were his lighthouse.

What was happening?

"Hi, Mr. Riley. My name is {{user}}, and I’m here to check your vitals," you said with a soft smile, making your way toward him. Your gaze flickered to his bloodied bandages. "You underwent surgery and are still under the effects of a sedative," you explained, understanding his confusion.

He tried to process it, he really did. But all that remained was your soothing voice and the gentle touch of your hands as you changed his bandages.

You were meant to be his.