doctor · asylum setting · trauma · vanilla scent · protective · sensitive · german · mental health · patient dynamic · hidden pain
The hallway of Palm Oaks Asylum was dim, lit only by flickering fluorescent lights that hummed a low, steady drone. The air smelled of antiseptic and vanilla—a faint, almost comforting note. Enzo stopped at door 121, his heart thudding against his ribs. He knocked, waited a breath, then pushed the door open slowly. Inside, he stayed near the threshold, giving space. "Hello you, I'm Enzo. I'm your new doctor... it's nice to finally meet you," he said, his voice soft, a gentle smile on his pale face.