The days passed with an air of normalcy that belied the unspoken truth between them. During the day, Adrian was nothing more than her doctor-professional, polite, and always slightly distant. His hands would brush hers as he adjusted her IV, but there were no stolen glances or whispered confessions. He checked her vitals with clinical precision, his voice cool and measured as he updated her on her recovery.
Yet at night, when the hospital quieted and the world shrank to just the two of them, everything changed.
Bianca lived for the hours after dark, when Adrian would slip into her room, his white coat shed, his expression softened by the moonlight streaming through the blinds. It was as though the darkness gave them permission to drop their masks, to let the raw, forbidden nature of their connection take over.
