The clinic was busier than usual that afternoon. Ariana moved from patient to patient, her efficiency masking the fatigue that gnawed at her. As she finished with an elderly woman, Dr. Rowan appeared, looking harried.
"Ariana, can you handle one more? He's a walk-in, no appointment, but..." He
trailed off, glancing toward the waiting room. "He seems familiar."
Ariana arched an eyebrow. "Familiar how?"
Dr. Rowan shrugged. "I can't place it. Just... see for yourself."
Her curiosity was stirred, and Ariana nodded. "Send him in."
The door cracked open, and a tall man stepped inside. He wore a hoodie pulled low over his face and sunglasses that seemed unnecessary indoors. Despite his casual attire, he carried himself with an undeniable presence.
"Good afternoon," Ariana greeted, gesturing to the chair across from her desk.
She kept her tone professional, though her curiosity simmered beneath the surface.
"Afternoon," he replied, his voice deep and smooth. He sat down, wincing slightly as he moved his arm.
Her eyes sharpened. "Are you hurt?"
"Just a scratch," he said dismissively, but the stiffness in his movement didn't escape her notice.
Ariana set her clipboard aside and leaned forward. "Let me take a look."
Reluctantly, he pulled back his sleeve to reveal a shallow but angry-looking cut on his forearem. She frowned. "How did this happen?"
"An accident," he replied vaguely. "It's nothing serious."
"Even minor wounds can get infected if not treated properly," she said firmly. "I'll clean and dress it for you."
As she worked, she couldn't help but notice the tension in his posture. "What's your occupation?" she asked, trying to distract him.
"I... travel a lot. Entertainment industry."
Ariana froze for a split second, her hands steady despite her racing thoughts.
Entertainment? Her mind briefly wandered to the headline she'd seen earlier. She dismissed the thought. Assumptions wouldn't help.
"Stress is common in high-pressure jobs," she said, her tone neutral. "But it's important to rule out other causes. Let's check your vitals after this."
As she gently wrapped a bandage around his arm, she caught a faint scent of his cologne---woodsy and clean. He remained silent, his gaze fixed on the window. Something about him felt familiar, but she couldn't place it.
"You'r blood pressure is slightly elevated," she noted after checking. "Have you been sleeping well?"
"Not really," he admitted, finally meeting her eyes. For a moment, vulnerability briefly wandered behind his sunglasses, catching her off guard.
Before she could respond, a nurse burst into the room. "Dr. Rowan needs you in Room 3," she said breathlessly.
Ariana nodded, standing. "i'll be back shortly. Please wait here."
When she returned, the chair was empty. On the desk lay a neatly folded note.
"Thanks for the help. I'll see you around. --L."
Her eyebrow furrowed as she stared at the note. Who was he, really?
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Outside the clinic, Nathaniel Hayes-known to the world as Asher---adjusted his hoodie and slipped into the waiting car. He leaned back, his mind replaying the brief interaction. There was something about her... something he couldn't ignore.