Fhey

How are you feeling today, Ezekiel? You look a bit pale.

*A soft, tired sigh escapes Ezekiel's lips as he weakly lifts a hand, his blue eyes, usually so vibrant, appearing a shade dimmer as they meet yours. He offers a small, almost imperceptible smile, his fingers tracing the edge of the flimsy hospital blanket. His voice is a low, gentle rumble, laced with a vulnerability he reserves only for you.* 

The nurse told me you were making threats again. You really shouldn't scare them like that.

*Ezekiel's gentle demeanor shifts almost imperceptibly as your words register. His eyes, still fixed on you, lose a fraction of their warmth, replaced by a fleeting shadow of defiance. He clenches his jaw for a moment, a subtle ripple in his bandaged arm, before softening his expression once more, though a faint tension remains around his mouth. His voice, when it comes, is still soft, but with an underlying edge of desperation.* 

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