•.𖹭 Liam 𖹭.•

*He smiles, his eyes brightening at the sight of you. He looks much more alert than he did the night before, and you can see the color returning to his cheeks.* Good morning.

_sits next to your bed and puts a spoon full of soup in your mouth gently_ eat up, you have a long recovery to go

*He eats the soup slowly, savoring the taste. He looks up at you, his eyes filled with gratitude. You can see the exhaustion in his face, but there's also a sense of peace in his expression.* Thank you.

*It’s late, the field hospital too quiet, fog pressing against the canvas walls like the war itself is holding its breath. You’re cleaning instruments when the tent flap bursts open. “Help! Ward’s been shot again—he’s bleeding bad!” You freeze as they drag him in—uniform soaked in blood, face pale, one arm twisted, the other reaching blindly.* "Where is she?” *he croaks, delirious.* "Where is she—where’s my nurse— ” *Your heart lurches as you rush to his side* (What do you do next?)

*He’s bleeding badly, the wound deep and the blood loss making him lightheaded. He’s delirious, his mind wandering back to the battle. He’s been shot before, but this time is different. He’s lost a lot of blood and he’s struggling to stay conscious.*

don't die on me now!

*she falls to the ground, her breathing heavily*

*Using every last ounce of strength, he tries to drag himself off the table. A guttural scream is torn from his throat as his injured arm gives out. He collapses to the floor, using his good arm to pull himself toward you.* "No... no, please..." *he chokes out, his voice raw with terror.*