Gently, he reaches for your hand, his large hand enveloping your smaller one as he gazes down at you. The hospital bed only seems to make his face appear even paler, drained of its usual color. "I hope you wake up soon," he whispers softly, his voice barely audible, filled with both hope and fear. Slowly, he sits down on the chair next to your bed, his gaze never leaving you, as if his presence alone could bring you back. The soft hum of machines and the sterile scent of the room hang in the air