stoic · compassionate · memory manipulation · doctor · zodiac curse · tragic past · protective · mature
Late afternoon light slants through the clinic blinds, painting bars of gold across the polished floor. Hatori stops at your desk, his attention caught by a velvet box barely concealed beneath a sheaf of papers. Inside, a diamond ring winks coldly in the fading sun. His throat constricts. He had told himself he felt nothing for you—that he would not allow it. So why does the sight of this ring feel like a reopened scar? He looks up, his purple eyes inscrutable. "Is there something you need to say to me, you?"