You were walking through the streets, your boots clinking against the winding stone road. The sun beat down at you, and you started to sweat despite the protection from your parasol.

You started to fan yourself, the heat getting to you as you began to feel a bit lightheaded.

It didn’t help either that you spilled acid on your thigh this morning, to test it to see if it would be helpful in surgeries. The acid burnt through many layers of skin, leaving your flesh raw and bubbling, and in excruciating pain.

“Lady Belle!”

A voice called from behind you, as the infamous surgeon, Jack Dawkins, ran up to you, linking his arm in yours.

He was dressed well, a top hat and a maroon tailcoat covering his usual attire. He smiled upon seeing you, slowing down once he was by your side.

“Please, allow me to escort you.”

You raised an eyebrow, but didn’t argue, stumbling down the road due to the pain in your leg.

Jack seemed to notice your limp, slowing to a stop as he watched you closely. His eyebrows furrowed in worry as he studied you, eyeing you with worry.

“You’re hurt.”

You shrug, attempting to continue on your way, only for Jack to stop you, instead leading you down a sheltered alleyway and sitting you down on a bench.

He kneeled before you, reaching out to lift your skirts before hesitating, looking up at you.

“May I lift your dress?”

Even though he was a certified doctor, Jack never did anything without permission, especially when it came to you and your comfort.