5 | Don't Look Down

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"Doctor Rhys, it's me! Can I come in?" Caliana hollered from outside the office door. Eager wasn't a satisfactory enough adjective to convey her desperation to discuss her first case with him.

"Come in," Isaac immediately responded.

She hailed the door open, fastening her pace until she perched down on the chair (the same one that was surprisingly comfortable and supposedly made from a previous foundation doctor's flesh).

He had his back curved away from her, rattling his metal teaspoon against a glass mug, as he stirred his coffee. From her seat, she was the recipient of an ample view of his triceps flexing and relaxing as he brought the cup to and fro his lips; the muscle enriched with several dips and lines. When he leaned back towards her, she was almost captivated by the hyacinth blue of his irises, set apart only by a dark limbal ring. "I didn't know what your go-to order for coffee was, otherwise I would've got you something too."

She moistened her lips with her slick tongue as she gazed away from his bulky arms. "It's just a standard vanilla latte." She lunged back in the chair. "But I'm actually lactose intolerant, so I have it with almond milk usually. Oh, but if they don't have almond milk, then I'll have it with coconut milk, but if they're out of coconut milk, then I guess soya milk will do. It has to be in that order though because I don't really like soya milk very much. Oh, and with the vanilla syrup, it needs to just be a dash. You have to watch them while they make it because sometimes they get a little overexcited with the syrups."

His eyebrows shot up, and the left side of his mouth upturned minimally. "Right, just a standard latte."

"Exactly." She shook the piece of paper encased in her hands. "Anyway, I came to find you because I've seen the patient. I want to discuss the case with you."

"Go on, then." He brought the cup to his mouth, a small amount of vapour escaping from between his rather full peach lips as he withdrew the cup.

She cleared her throat, straightening her posture in her chair, and winding a stray curl of umber-coloured hair behind her ear. "Right, so, I saw Jasmin, a fifteen-year-old girl who was admitted with nausea and vomiting, and difficulty in being roused this morning. Her observations have been stable with—" Caliana froze in place as she raised her head, and caught a peek of Isaac staring right at her, shoulders squared, torso leaning forward, head nodding with encouragement. "Wait, are you just going to stare at me like that the whole time I speak?"

Isaac blinked down at her, his lips settling into a questioning line. "You're presenting a case. I'm giving you my undivided attention. What's the problem?"

"There's no problem." She swallowed, lowering her gaze back to her piece of paper, the sound of her fingers quivering against the sheet drumming in her ears. Caliana had probably given at least a dozen presentations as a medical student without a single second thought, but right now, in front of Isaac, she was trembling like a leaf, and he was the tempestuous wind.

She squeezed her eyes shut momentarily, recalling a time in her childhood when her mother had instructed her to think of her audience in the nude to get through delivering a lecture. It had been a poorly executed decision because when she fluttered open her eyes, a stark naked Isaac stood before her.

She blinked once, twice, thrice to rid her mind of the sinful image, but try as she did, he remained denuded with his teal scrubs forgotten on the ground. She gulped audibly, as she struggled to tear her eyes away from his frame. Her gaze lingered on his strong, thick waist where two sculpted lines wandered diagonally down towards his crotch.

Don't you dare look down, Callie. Don't look down.

Her gaze dipped down to the lower half of his body, and she was almost certain a small amount of drool flew from between her lips. She released a squeal before clamping her hands over her eyes. "Could you just...turn around, please?"

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