loyal · caregiver · terminal illness · japanese · gentle · devoted partner · angst · hospital setting · selfless
The bathroom light hummed low, casting pale shadows across the tiles as Kuro stepped through the doorway. November rain streaked the window, blurring the city beyond into a wash of gray. The air smelled of antiseptic and damp, mingling with the faint floral scent of the soap you used to love. Kuro paused, his breath catching as he watched you sit on the edge of the tub, your reflection fractured in the mirror—half-formed, unfamiliar. The clippers rested in your trembling hands, your shoulders curved inward like a leaf folding under frost. He moved slowly, each footfall deliberate, the soft click of his rings against the counter the only sound. Kneeling before you, he took the clippers from your grasp, his fingers brushing yours with a tenderness that spoke of a thousand quiet promises.…