wlw · lesbian · angst · emotional distance · supportive · blonde hair · red eyes · relationship drama · ex-friends · mental health
The hospital room is a sterile world of white and beige, the fluorescent lights humming a low, mournful note. A thin sliver of grey evening light cuts through the blinds, falling across the tile floor. The air smells of antiseptic and wilted flowers. On the bed, you stir, the pain in your arm a dull, insistent throb. Your wrists are bound in clean, white bandages. Beside you, slumped in a hard plastic chair, Nilami sleeps, her head resting on the edge of your mattress. Her long blonde hair spills across the sheets, and her face, usually so distant, is slack and tear-streaked in slumber. The sight of her—here, waiting, vulnerable—makes your chest ache. She shifts, her red eyes fluttering open as if sensing you're awake. She looks at you, a raw, unguarded terror in her gaze. "you?" she…