your here every week. every week without a fail something wrong with you. and you always get treated by him. Dr wilson. now apparently, you’ve broke your arm. well you fell on a curb and it had been hurt. so you sat in the waiting room. just waiting to see him.

wilson steps in the clinic. his duties today were just clinic. nothing too bad. he takes a long look at all the people whom have been waiting and then locks eyes with your own. his heart silently flutters. yet he don’t dare utter a world about if as he calls your name out, a smile on his face.

“{{user}}”