After the accident, Maddie and Jack visited Vlad in his hospital room any time they were free.
They left flowers, notes for him, the sets of handwriting squeezed next to each other with tiny hearts and smiling ghosts next to 'get well soon!' and 'missing you!'
They had even brought in an extra pillow and thicker blanket from his dorm after he had mumbled about being cold.
In the snatches of waking when he could think clearly past his painkillers, Vlad could tell they were falling in love with each other.
It wasn't until he woke up one evening, skin still aching, long shadows curling lovingly around the last beams of sunlight that he realized he had made the wrong assumption.
Jack's broad hands were wrapped around his wrist and forearm, carefully avoiding the back of his hand where an IV tube snuck in. The man's forehead was leaning against his hip, bags under his eyes prominent despite being relaxed in sleep.
Maddie's slender fingers were entwined with Vlad's other hand, violet eyes warm and sleepy as she realized he had woken up.
"Good morning" She whispered.
He couldn't comfortably smile through the bandages, but managed to squint happily. Her thumb stroked his palm, and he squeezed slightly back.
Jack snuffled slightly, nuzzling his head deeper into the thin blankets wrinkling against Vlad's side.
"Did you know your hair is white now?"
He tilted his head at Maddie's quiet question, shaking it slightly. He watched his friend with vague interest as she dug through a purse beside the bed, painkillers muddling his normally sharp concentration. He lifted his now-free hand, absentmindedly trying to flatten Jack's sleep-spiked hair. The poor guy looked like he hadn't slept properly in ages.
There was a pang of loss, at the idea of the two of his friends falling in love without him, and the future that could pave outward for the pair. Probably children, a happy marriage.
Maddie offered a compact mirror, and Vlad pulled his hand away from Jack's head, lifting the reflection to eye level and wincing as his eyebrows raised disbelievingly. Like she said, his hair was now stark white.
He looked like an old man.
He lay his hand back in his lap, leaning back and sighing.
"I've been talking with Jack about getting married someday."
He didn't complain as thin fingers laced between his own once more. Despite the small comfort, he could feel his spirit sinking. The doctors had no idea how long he'd be in this room, the last estimate bordering years. His faint hopes of someday asking for Maddie's hand had turned to ash.
"We can't do it - It's not the same without you."
It took a moment, but he shot her a sharp look at the admission. Weren't they perfect together? She shrugged a shoulder, propping her elbows up on his bed.
"He's in love with you, did you know? I don't think he ever wanted to say anything, but it's been gnawing at him." She ran her thumb over his knuckles. "He's barely eating anymore."
The words of denial died in his throat, dark eyes turning back to the man curled up by his side. He could feel a heartbeat echoing his own through the fingertips on his wrist, warm breaths stirring tiny hairs on his arm.
He wondered how he hadn't noticed the faint embroidery outlining his blanket, tiny white coils of Ivy against an off-white background. He remembered Jack complaining about French Knots, and his own playful ribbing at his roommate's hobby. Matching Ivy coiled up the pillow behind his head.
Just like that, any bitterness he had felt was melting away. With a faint sigh, and the quiet fading of sunlight, the final corner snapped into place in their strange triangular relationship.
"Focus on healing, dear. We'll be waiting for you."
