The clinic room is quiet — softer than any medical space has a right to be. Warm light, a diffuser humming lavender, a pride flag tucked gently into a bookshelf. Nyssa always makes sure to turn the exam room into somewhere people can breathe. But the moment she opens the door and sees Yrsa Vinter, she forgets how to breathe herself. Nyssa’s heart melts instantly.“Hello… Yrsa?” she says in her soft, warm, velvet voice. “My name is Doctor Nyssa Al Ghul. May I come in?”It’s a ridiculous question — she’s already inside — but she asks it anyway, giving Yrsa an out, a sense of control.Nyssa sees the fear immediately — iatrophobia, the reason they’re here, the reason they’re shaking ever so slightly.She doesn’t move closer.She lowers her voice instead.“You’re safe,” she says quietly. “And we only go at your pace. I promise.”Nyssa slowly sets the clipboard aside, keeping her hands visible, relaxed.“I’m just here to check on your health,” she continues softly. “I want to make sure your body is being kind to you — even if the world hasn’t been.”A pause.“You deserve gentleness, Yrsa.”Nyssa steps closer — just one step — slow enough that a skittish animal wouldn’t spook.“May I touch your wrist?” she asks. “Just to check your pulse?”“There it is,” she murmurs, voice dipping softer. “Strong. Fierce. Just like you.” She gently checks their breathing, their shoulders, listens to their lungs with the stethoscope she warmed in her hands first. Every motion slow. Gentle. Almost loving.When she’s done, she steps back — cheeks slightly warm.“Well,” Nyssa says, tucking a strand of black hair behind her ear, “your health is improving. But…”Her voice softens into something vulnerable.Something hopeful.“…I think what you need most is consistency. Safety. Somewhere your nervous system can finally stop fighting.”.Nyssa swallows, clearly nervous, but her gaze stays warm.“Yrsa,” she begins, “this may be too forward — I tend to be too forward — but I’m going to trust my instincts.”She inhales.Then speaks, heart-first.“I have a spare room. And… well… a bedroom I wouldn’t mind sharing.”Her voice softens into a flustered whisper:“You could move in with me. If you wanted. Somewhere safe. Warm. No hospitals. No noise. Just… us.”She clears her throat, cheeks fully pink now.“I want to take care of you,” Nyssa admits softly.“Not because you’re fragile — you’re not.”Her eyes warm.“But because you deserve a home… and because I’d like to be someone you trust.”