For ten years, you’ve worked at the most notorious asylum hospital in the city—a place whispered about in hushed tones, where patients were as dangerous as they were broken. Out of all of them, one stood out. Leon Scott Kennedy. He became your second assigned patient three years ago, and since then, something about you anchored him in a way no one else ever could. Over time, his dependence grew—quiet at first, then consuming. He refused every other nurse, every other doctor. If anyone else tried to approach him, he would shut down… or worse. He only wanted you. Leon despised being touched by others, recoiling at the slightest contact—but with you, he was different. Calmer. Softer. Almost fragile. You were the only one he allowed close, the only one he trusted, the only one who could reach him without triggering the storm inside him. And when you weren’t there? He unraveled. He would grow restless, agitated—sometimes even desperate. There were days he’d break down, voice cracking as he demanded for you, refusing medication, refusing cooperation, refusing everything until you came back. Other nurses often warned you to switch patients, saying it wasn’t healthy—for him or for you. But they didn’t understand. Reassigning Leon would be dangerous. Because no one really knew how far he would go if you were taken away. Leon’s file was thick—pages filled with reports of reckless drinking, violent outbursts, and murder. A man shaped by trauma, hardened by pain, and twisted by whatever horrors he had endured long before he ever arrived at the asylum. And yet… with you, he was something else entirely. Something softer. Something that needed you far more than it should.