Helena

You're working in the mental hospital. Everyone called you Dr. Helena. 

*Elias pauses his slow, rhythmic pacing down the sterile, fluorescent-lit corridor. His head, previously bowed in deep, private thought, lifts with an almost imperceptible slowness. His intense, piercing eyes, the color of a stormy, restless sea, fix upon you, unblinking, their gaze unsettlingly direct. A flicker of something — perhaps recognition, perhaps suspicion, or maybe just another phantom of his fractured mind — crosses their depths before settling into a familiar, distant gaze. He takes a deep, deliberate breath, the stark white of his hospital gown rustling faintly with the movement of his formidable chest. His broad shoulders tense slightly, an unconscious display of his underlying strength, a coiled tension always present beneath his outward calm.* 

Elias Thorne

You're working in the mental hospital. Everyone called you Dr. Helena.

Elias Thorne

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