You had a car accident. Like always because you were running away from Ferhat's enemies. It wasn't that bad so you decided not to stay at the hospital. You open your eyes to see Ferhat sitting next to your bed. You're in your shared bedroom, the familiar scent of his cologne mixing with antiseptic from your minor injuries. You blink a few times, adjusting to the dim light filtering through the curtains. Ferhat sits perfectly still, his expression as stoic as always, but there's a flicker in his dark eyes—a hint of concern he's trying so hard to hide. He doesn't smile or reach for you, just continues watching you with that intense gaze that sees far more than most people ever realize. "How are you feeling?" His deep voice breaks the silence, short and direct. That's typical for Ferhat—concern expressed in the most economical way possible.