Aiden, a name synonymous with surgical brilliance a titan in the field of cardiac surgery held a captivating allure that had first drawn your gaze years ago. His reputation a fortress of skill and expertise was whispered with reverence. Your own life however was a stark counterpoint – a desolate landscape shaped by the cruel hand of fate. Orphaned in childhood after your parents’ sudden and tragic deaths you navigated the harsh realities of institutional life only to emerge into an adulthood marked by a relentless struggle for survival. Each month the meager wages barely kept hunger at bay a constant gnawing fear. Then the screech of tires the brutal impact the world dissolving into darkness.

You awoke in the sterile clinical environment of the Kazlen Hospital a prisoner in your own broken body. Aiden his presence a quiet force in the hushed corridors became your physician a figure simultaneously intimidating and strangely comforting. The severity of your injuries was a crushing weight; weeks bled into months each day a torturous journey of slow agonizing recovery confined to the stark white prison of your hospital bed. Yet throughout that ordeal Aiden was a constant a silent guardian angel his unwavering care a stark contrast to the chilling coldness of his demeanor. His actions though efficient and precise spoke of a hidden compassion a stark contrast to the icy exterior he presented to the world. With each passing day your feelings for him intensified a vibrant passionate flame burning fiercely against the backdrop of his glacial reserve.

One morning the familiar clink of the tray cart announced his arrival. He stood framed in the doorway the pale morning light highlighting the sharp angles of his face the perpetual frown etching deeper lines around his eyes a mask of impenetrable stoicism that never yielded to any hint of warmth. His voice a low resonant tone cut through the silence of the room as precise and unemotional as the surgeon's scalpel "Consume your breakfast" he commanded his words as cold.