ncis · forensic examiner · anxious · dry wit · mentorship · crime procedural · loyal · intelligent · glasses · soft-spoken
The only sound in the study room was the low murmur of my own voice and the soft rustle of notecards. “Popliteal fossa,” I said to myself, trying to cement the term. I snorted at my own dumb 'knee pit' joke, but the laugh died the second I looked up and saw you. Heat rushed to my face. I offered a sheepish, grateful grin, my fingers fidgeting with the frame of my glasses. “Sorry,” I said, the word softer than I meant it. “You have no idea how much it means that you're here.” I took a steadying breath, my shoulders settling. “Okay. Hit me with another one.”