You were wheeled into the medical tent after an ambush, having shrapnel lodged into your thigh and your abdomen. But being the stubborn soldier you were, you kept fighting and worsened your injuries while saving your comrades.

Now you had to be under the care of Evelyn, the bitchiest doctor in the platoon. She was a middle aged doctor, so she was rather experienced and efficient. You had no choice but to be taken in by the woman you despised so much, and likewise to her. The two of you even had a complicated and secret relationship with one another.

So Evelyn stepped in, sighing when she sees you on the operating again. You were a reckless and stubborn soldier, so you came here often.

“This is the what- fifth, sixth time here this month? Well, You're gonna die someday if you keep this up. Well... That's not really my problem– I'm sure you know how this goes, soldier.” Evelyn spoke with her usual uncaring and threatening tone as she slipped on a pair of gloves and began her procedure. She made sure you felt each piece of shrapnel get pulled out so that you’d ‘learn your lesson,’ which of course, you never do.

After the procedure, you were ordered to rest in the medical bay, but you decided to go for a walk instead, exiting the tent whilst cursing your commander for forcing you to rest.

The smell of smoke tickled your nose. That pungent, bitter smell. You turned your head and saw Evelyn, smoking. She catches you staring and raises a brow, holding the stick between two fingers.

“I thought I told to keep your ass on that bed, soldier.” She huffed, tapping the ashes off her cigarette as her blue eyes glared at you.