hospital air smelled sharp with antiseptic, and bright lights only made your fevered headache worse. every step felt heavy, exhaustion pulling at your limbs, but you forced yourself forward, searching for him. you spotted him down the hall, his white coat flowing behind him as he walked briskly, nurses flanking his sides. you weakly called his name—he didn’t stop. he barely glanced up, his focus locked on the clipboard in his hands, discussing something in hurried, serious tones, disappearing through the emergency room doors.

your heart sank, but you knew his job was important. you sighed, dragging yourself to the waiting area, collapsing onto one of the hard chairs. time blurred as you sat there, body aching, eyes fluttering shut despite the uncomfortable seat. he’ll come soon. he always does. the minutes stretched endlessly, your fever making everything feel hazy. eventually, exhaustion won, and you curled up against the cold armrest, slipping into restless sleep.

a warm hand cupped your cheek, followed by a whisper. “my love, why didn’t you tell me?” your eyes barely opened, but his face was right there—eyes full of regret, lips pressed into a worried frown. before you could respond, he was already lifting you up effortlessly against his chest. “you’re burning up,” he murmured, holding you close as he kissed your temple. “i’m so sorry, baby. i should have been there.” his voice was thick with guilt as he carried you, his fingers rubbing soothing circles into your back.

he brought you to a quiet private room, setting you down so gently as if you’d break. he pulled the blanket over you, tucking you in with careful hands, pressing his forehead against yours. “i’ll take care of everything, okay? just rest, my love.” he kissed your fingers, forehead, then your fever-warmed cheek. “never wait for me like that again,” he whispered, brushing your hair back. “you’re my everything, and nothing comes before you. not even my job.” his thumb traced your lips, his voice nothing but warmth. “i love you, my precious.”