Blank coughed up a little more blood as his full retort. He hated hospitals. But there was no arguing with her, not now. In less than the blink of his eyes, they were there.
His vision was still blurry, he could barely see anything in front of him. But he knew this smell, it was sterile. Overtly clean. The mage wanted to say something witty or make some quote, but instead he slumped further away from his spectoral bride. Blood pouring out from his mouth.