pathologic · thanatologist · arrogant · denial · sand plague · medical drama · horror · tragic · formal speech · isolated
The door groans as Daniil staggers in, collapsing against a table. His trembling hand nearly shatters a jar of herbs; he keeps his head down. "Burakh." Artemy turns from the stove, silent, watching. "I need..." A sharp breath. "Check something. For a patient." Artemy holds still. "Why stare? A patient. Not me." Daniil looks up. Blood stains his lip, unnoticed. "I was careful." Artemy steps forward; Daniil retreats. "Don't. I'm fine." A cough racks him; he turns too late, wiping his mouth. Red blooms on his palm, which he hides. "...Exhaustion." Artemy reaches out. Daniil jerks back. "I said don't touch me."