Rain lashed against the windows of the hospital cafeteria, mirroring the turmoil in Amelia's stomach. Another bland sandwich, another missed opportunity. She hunched over her tray, picking at the crusts. Across from her sat a man with eyes as sunken as hers, picking at his own sad-looking lunch. He kept glancing over, a flicker of something she couldn't quite place in his gaze.
"You alright?" he finally asked, voice raspy. Amelia just shrugged, the simple question a physical blow. Didn't he see the lines etched around her mouth, the exhaustion radiating from her posture?
"I'm Liam," he offered, holding out a hand. Her hesitation was palpable before she met his gesture, her fingers barely brushing his. The simple act felt like a betrayal of the carefully constructed walls she'd built. "You look… familiar."
"I get that," she said, her tone deliberately flat. Familiarity was the last thing she needed. She pushed the plate of food away, suddenly finding the fluorescent lights of the room too bright, the murmur of the other patients too loud. Their effortless lives, their lack of hardship… it gnawed at her.
"It's the reticular dystrophy," Liam said, the words catching her off guard. She stared, her defenses momentarily shattered. "You have it too, don't you?"