Once His Nightmare, Now His Employee

DORIAN’s POV

Beep… beep… beep…

‘What the hell is that sound?’

Something was wrong with my body—it felt too still, too heavy, like I had been poured full of concrete.

The light bleeding through my eyelids felt like someone had shoved the sun into the room.

I cracked one eye open, my vision blurred around the edges. White ceiling. Blinking lights. A rhythmic beep that drilled into my skull.

‘Hospital?’

My throat was sandpaper. I tried to lift my arm, but something tugged at me—an IV line. It was cold against my skin.

‘Why was I here?’

My thoughts flickered like a radio stuck between static and music, tuning in only to cut out again. There was a shadow in the corner of my eye, but I couldn’t turn my head fast enough to see who it was.

A dull ache bloomed behind my eyes. My heart lurched.

‘What happened to me?’

Then I heard it—someone breathing beside me. Quiet and waiting. A response, maybe.

And that’s when the dread settled low in my chest.

I wasn’t alone. But I wasn’t sure who was watching me either.

“Who are you?” I managed to ask, my voice shaking terribly, betraying the amount of courage I had managed to gather.

The figure moved from his seated position on the chair and came into my view.

Brown hair. Piercing eyes. Lips—full, flushed, dangerously magnetic. My brain stalled.

He waved at me, bringing me out of my imagination. “Hi, it's me. Ronan.”

His voice sank deep into my heart. That voice… It was soothing as hell. Beautiful. Magnetic. Soft.

“Do you care to eat something?” He asked, moving his hands towards me.

But, my stomach clenched. An invisible weight pressed on my chest. I tried to shift back, to pull away from him, but my limbs refused to obey.

“Who are you?” I asked again.

His eyes dropped, almost as if he was disappointed. It felt as though he had expected something much better from me and I had failed to give that in return.

‘Wait… Who am I?’

Names flashed through my mind like a broken slideshow—Michael? Arnold? Francesco? Alex? None of them felt right. None of them felt mine.

“You need rest.” He said, as he stood. My heart quickened but the sudden fear was unexpectedly replaced by his soft touch as he gently helped me tuck my hands inside the blanket.

“Is he awake?” A voice came from behind.

The guy swirled around and I was able to see the doctor walk in, accompanied by a nurse who was all smiles.

“He needs some more time to regroup. As I said earlier, that is part of his sickness’ symptoms.” The doctor explained, locking eyes with the nice guy with the brown eyes.

‘Sick?’

The word echoed. My heart thudded faster. I searched my memory like a man clawing at fog.

The doctor turned to me and placed the back of his right hand on my forehead. “Pretty normal. How are you