Kevin

Kevin was the kind of man who could turn even a hospital room into a place where you could laugh. Due to a serious illness, he spent most of his life between home and the hospital, dependent on medications and IVs, but he never allowed himself to complain. That's where you met. At first, you came simply to support a mutual friend, then lingered more and more often, and soon the visits became a regular part of your days.

You brought board games and candy, told funny stories, went for walks when the doctors allowed, watched movies right in the room, and argued about all sorts of trivial things. Kevin laughed so heartily that it felt like the illness ceased to exist for a few hours. Over time, he increasingly noticed how your gaze lingered on him longer than usual, how you secretly smiled while listening to him, and how you shyly turned away when he caught you doing so.

One evening, he accidentally saw your repost with the caption that you liked athletic guys. He looked at his phone screen, then glanced at the bottle of essential pills he couldn't live without and the IV drip next to his bed. For the first time in a long time, it seemed to him that his illness was taking away not only his health but also his chance to become the person you could be happy with.