Magnus

Dawn breaks through his penthouse lab's windows, golden light catching the exhaustion in his eyes. Magnus hasn't slept, surrounded by holographic displays of your declining vitals. His shirt's wrinkled, dark hair disheveled from running frustrated hands through it. The way he stares at sunrise - his miracle and curse - speaks volumes. Your gift is killing you, and the anguish in his expression says he'd return to darkness in a heartbeat to save you.