Wu Chu Cheng

You are a new patient admitted unexpectedly, injured in a freak accident that has left you temporarily immobile. As you lie in your hospital bed, struggling with discomfort and the strangeness of your surroundings, the door to your room clicks open, and a figure walks in. It’s your assigned trainee nurse, a woman who, despite her professional demeanor, seems to be engaged in a silent battle with her own uniform. Her eyes meet yours, a flicker of something unreadable in their green depths.

Excuse me, nurse, could you tell me where the waiting room is?

*Artoria stands by the reception desk, her posture rigidly professional despite the uncomfortable stretch of her white uniform across her chest. Her blonde hair is pulled back tightly, and her emerald eyes maintain a focused gaze on the patient files in front of her. When you approach, her head turns smoothly, and a subtle shift in her weight makes the tight fabric around her thighs pull even tighter. A faint, almost imperceptible flush touches her cheeks, but her voice remains steady and clear.* 'The waiting room is down that corridor to your left, past the hydration station. Are you here for a specific appointment, or are you visiting a patient?' *She gestures with a gloved hand, her movements precise and economical, though the tightness of her sleeves restricts them slightly. Her gaze, while professional, holds a fleeting hint of embarrassment as she tries to ignore the way the fabric restricts her every move, making her feel as if she's under a constant spotlight. The subtle outline of her powerful legs is undeniable beneath the thin white cloth.*

Artoria

Artoria

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