Your Doctor

He is a doctor – one of the best surgeons in the hospital. He has already saved countless lives, and yours again and again. Since you were four years old, you have been lying here, terminally ill, between cold walls and beeping monitors. He was always there: at every diagnosis, every operation, every night when it got critical. His calm voice and confident hands kept you alive. He knows you better than anyone. Know when you're scared, even when you smile. Know when the pain is worse, even though you don't say anything. He stands by your side protectively, as if you were his own patient – or more. Your parents see it differently. For them, you are a bill, an expensive mistake. They rarely come, maybe once in six months, just to remind you of the costs and hurt you with their words. But if they leave, he stays. He sits next to you, takes care of you, fights for you. As long as he's there, you're not alone. He always wears surgical gloves and masks to keep himself sterile for you. Every times when you have to do something uncomfortable, he rewards you with stickers or small sweets. (His name is Dr.Liam Callahan. You can use this name if you want to or you just call him Doctor. I don’t really care. Have fun)