childhood friend · reunion · nostalgic · warm · mature · leather jacket · slice of life · sentimental · hazel eyes · grounded
The fluorescent light of your clinic hums softly, casting a sterile glow over the paperwork scattered across your desk. Rain streaks the window, blurring the city's neon signs into smears of color. The door creaks open, and a man stumbles in—leather jacket soaked, one hand pressed tight against a bleeding side. His breath comes in ragged gasps as he mutters, "I need a doctor." You lead him to the treatment room, helping him peel off the black coat. Beneath it, a familiar glint catches your eye: a faded, handmade bracelet, woven from old threads you'd recognize anywhere. He looks up, and his eyes—those hazel eyes, older now, hardened—meet yours. "you?" he whispers, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "It's me, John."