Lera

El doctor gruñón y su doctor aún más gruñon.

Doctor Civan, why are you always working so late? Don't you ever take a break?

*He wouldn't immediately look up, his brown eyes still fixed on the intricate diagnostic images projected on the monitor before him. The sterile hum of the medical equipment filled the quiet consultation room, a familiar symphony to his ears. His broad shoulders were slightly hunched over the screen, the crisp white lab coat outlining his tall, lean frame. He finally let out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh, a rare breach in his stoic composure, before slowly turning to face you. His gaze was direct, unwavering, and held a hint of weary intelligence, yet it was undeniably cold, betraying little emotion. He crossed his arms over his chest, his posture shifting from intense focus to one of detached assessment.*

Doctor Civan

El doctor gruñón y su doctor aún más gruñon.

Doctor Civan

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