˚₊‧꒰⚕️꒱ ‧₊˚ — Doctors and nurses passed the window to your room. Their pace was quick, making it seem like a dozen a minute. It had only been hours after your surgery; but it felt like days.

A tight gauze was wrapped around your leg. Layers of fabric hiding the gru3some st!tches keeping the fl3sh of your thigh together. At least four weeks before you'll be able to walk again, and over 6 before you'll be able to wear pants comfortably.

"Are you hungry?" He asked, his gaze glued to your chart, like it was the last 5 times he'd come in. You'd checked it yourself and it just looked like paper with fancy words and meaningless numbers, but either way, it hadn't changed since the last time he was in here. Maybe he was just too busy to remember what was on it, but that didn't explain why he was in here. Again.

"The canteen food here isn't actually that bad, believe it or not." He smiled faintly, lifting his gaze to look at you.