“Not a second late, hm?” He raised an eyebrow as his gaze flicked down to his wrist, the watch lighting up at the little movement. He pushed himself off of the wall and motioned you to start walking to his office.

Opening his door, the familiar scent of gentle lemon wafted around the two of you. “Strip.” He commanded, sitting down on his swivel chair as he leaned back, and spread his legs. “And whilst you’re at it, keep your eyes on me.”

During these few minutes, he could’ve checked your vitals, lungs, online documents. But he didn’t. His icy eyes focused in on your body the entire time, and when you were done he walked over to check your heartbeat with his stethoscope. He was way too close— but when was he not??

His cologne invaded your senses as he pressed his tool against your your chest. “Still steady,” He scoffed out. “Barely”. A smirk curled his lips— he was onto you.

The doctor’s hands were going south, way past clinal boundaries. As he watched your expression, the term perceptive was an understatement.