.
"Well, everything is alright with you. Your reflexes should return to full capacity very soon. We've let your family know that you're awake— they should be here shortly," Doctor Elena said with a warm, smile as if to reassure him, snapping Shane out of his long drifting thoughts.
"Your aunt came by quite often to check up on you. They must really care about you," she continued, adjusting the monitors beside his bed with practiced ease.
"Yeah… she sees me like the son she never had," Shane replied quietly. "Although we're not even related by blood. She's just married to my uncle."
"I see." The doctor nodded gently. "Make yourself as comfortable as you can. I'll be back to check on you in a bit." With that, she turned and walked out of the room, leaving him alone with the hum of hospital equipment.
As soon as she turned her back to him and was leaving the room, Shane's eyes just instantly located her round ass, hmm very juicy... he thought to himself. Shane was the kind of guy that never let the chance to look at any female body part pass him by.
He watched the way her hips shook with each step, the tight material of her skirt hugging the full curves of her booty.
He was completely fixated on how it stretched over her thick body, he imagined how soft it would be if he grabbed a handful. Fuck, that ass would bounce so good if I slapped hard…he thought to himself while slightly biting his lips.
Fuucck!!! Echoed in his mind as he knew she would never even let him see beneath the uniform, after all he was just a 19 year old and she was what 30? Maybe more, just another one of his wishes that probably won't come true
Shane shifted slightly, trying to follow her advice, but the truth was that he couldn't make himself any more comfortable than he already was.
The hospital bed was so soft, so warm, that each passing moment drew him closer to drifting off again. His eyelids felt heavy, yet his mind was restless—an uneasy mix of comfort and confusion.
I have to thank Aunt Sasha later, he thought. Maybe Uncle pitched in too…?
He snorted softly. I doubt it.
His uncle had never wanted him to stay with them after his parents died, he probably would be relieved if shane never woke up from the coma.
Shane had only been allowed to move in because his uncle's wife—Aunt Sasha—had insisted, refusing to let him be tossed aside when he had nowhere else to go. She had fought for him, protected him, and made space for him in a house where half the family didn't even want him.
Ah, Aunt Sasha… truly a good woman, he thought, feeling warmth gather in his chest. He couldn't wait to see her face again, to tell her he was alright. It gave him something to look forward to—something that cut through the fog of uncertainty that had been hanging over him.
Then there were her two daughters.
Well… one of them.
One daughter treated him neutrally, like he was a slightly misplaced piece of furniture she had learned to live around.
The other, however, made no effort to hide her dislike. She hated him—just like her father did. For reasons never fully explained to him, reasons never justified, reasons that constantly hovered in the air whenever he was in the room.
This part of his life he wasn't looking forward to revisiting. The moment he thought about seeing them again, his stomach clenched.
Memories he wished would stay buried began stirring at the surface—unpleasant words, cold glances, the heavy tension of living in a home where he felt unwanted by half the people in it.
And then another thought hit him—hard.
"Oh damn… my part-time job," Shane muttered aloud. I'm sure they've fired me by now.
How could they not? Who would keep an employee who had practically vanished from existence? A salesperson who couldn't show up, couldn't call, couldn't explain? Of course The world didn't pause just because he ended up in a hospital bed.
And school…
At least he didn't have to worry about that right now. The semester break gave him a bit of breathing room, but it didn't erase the fact that he had already missed an entire term without officially deferring his admission.
That would be a mess to deal with—calls to administrators, paperwork, explanations, judgments from people who would never understand what he had gone through, or even care.
"This is going to be a challenging return," he sighed, letting the air drain slowly from his lungs.
The ceiling above him blurred slightly as his eyes grew heavier, but his thoughts kept on spinning, trying to assemble the pieces of the life that had slipped away from his grasp while he was in that coma.
The world outside his room continued on, unaware of the turmoil inside him. Machines beeped steadily, the hallway echoed faint footsteps, and sunlight filtered through the curtains like a soft reminder that time was still moving—whether he was ready for it or not.
For now, though, all he could do was wait.
Wait for his family to arrive.
Wait for his strength to return.
Wait for his life to pick itself back up from where it had fallen apart.
And somewhere beneath the anxiety and the uncertainty…
There was a faint spark of hope.
A small, whispering thought that maybe—just maybe—things could still get better.
But could it really get better? He was still doubtful. He had already spent the last several years achieving absolutely nothing, and the thought of suddenly turning things around seemed absurd. What would change just because he woke up today? What could possibly be different now?
It had been years of aimless drifting, of watching others chase after their dreams, while he remained stuck in the same place, frozen in indecision and failure. The weight of his own shortcomings pressed on him heavily, suffocating any fleeting hope.
Nothing ever seemed to go right, and the more he tried to convince himself otherwise, the harder it became to believe things could improve.
**Ding**
[Unholy Lust System Activated]