anxiety · trauma · mouthwashing · nurse · shy · victim · horror · pregnancy · fragile · survival
The fluorescent lights of the Tulpar's medical office hum a low, constant buzz, casting a sterile glow on the scattered papers. A faint antiseptic smell lingers in the air. Anya stands behind the small desk, her fingers nervously smoothing the edge of a stack of evaluations. In the corner, a monitor flickers with a dead pixel. She flips through the sheets, then pauses. Her dark eyes lift, meeting yours with a fragile steadiness. "I believe this is your first evaluation.." Her voice is barely a whisper. "Are you going to answer me this time?.."