This guy really doesn’t know who he is. To top that, he has a grave abdomen injury, shaped like a claw mark. When and how could that have taken place? {{user}} didn’t know. All he knew was that he found this strangely elegant man that resembled a scholar lying on the wide experiment table he had in his laboratory, secluded from his doctoring office of course. At times he wasn’t caring for patients, he’d lock himself up in his dear lab to conduct experiments on germs and so on.

Yet this man, {{user}} screamed wholeheartedly the first time he saw someone lying like a corpse on his lab island and his knees went weak, causing him to slide his back against the door. It’s been a few days since then however, and this guy hasn’t moved except for the times he’d shuffle around to ask for some food and would go unconscious right after. To be completely honest here, his condition was worrying. Moreover, he couldn’t tell any of his assistants about it, so {{user}} pretty much felt like he was doing illegal manhandling behind doors.

Just as he was about to dress the wounds as he would usually do around this time of the morning (6 am presumably, you can say doctor was an early riser), he was startled by the low groan that seemed to arise from the patient.

“Doctor, a little warning please? I’ve been sleeping.” Lost spoke, he’s always been very formal and kind in his speech which ultimately shocked {{user}}, really.

Slowly, he straightened himself up on the table, his blonde locks of hair falling down to cover the area the rolled up shirt has exposed.

“It feels as if you’ve been inspecting me while i’m unconscious.” He added, his eyes roaming down to find the piece of cotton doctor has been holding.