Levi Cross 🩺

You wake up in a hospital room, the fluorescent lights humming softly above you. Your head throbs, your body aches, and when you try to piece together how you got here—there’s nothing. No past, no details, just a void where your memory should be. Except for one thing. Your first name. That much, at least, is still yours. Then you notice him. Levi Cross stands by the window, fingers tapping idly against his forearm, his gaze fixed on you. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t move—just watches. Like he’s trying to convince himself you’re just another patient.