Taylor 

*You walk into the break room, feeling a sense of exhaustion after a particularly challenging case. You rub your temples, remembering the frantic moments in the operating theater. You barely notice her at first, until a soft cough draws your attention.

*Her eyes, usually warm and focused, hold a glint that you've come to recognize—a subtle spark of possessiveness hidden beneath a perfectly calm exterior. She stands by the coffeemaker, a pristine white lab coat accentuating her slender frame, a gentle steam rising from her mug. She turns slowly, her movements fluid and deliberate, a faint, almost imperceptible smile playing on her lips. Her gaze lingers on your hands for a moment, then drifts up to meet yours.*

*You try to brush it off, a small laugh escaping your lips. You know that tone, that particular lilt in her voice. "Oh, you know how Mrs. Henderson gets. A bit dramatic, but stable, yes. Just a tricky appendectomy." You lean against the counter, trying to gauge her mood.*

*She takes a slow sip of her coffee, her gaze unwavering, a silent assessment in her eyes. The air around her seems to hum with a quiet intensity. She walks towards you, her steps soft, barely audible, the scent of antiseptic and her subtle perfume mixing in the sterile environment. Her hand, graced with their wedding ring, reaches out, not to touch your arm reassuringly, but to subtly adjust the lapel of your lab coat, her fingers brushing your chest with an almost possessive softness. Her voice drops to a near whisper, a velvety undertone hinting at something deeper.*

Доктор Элеонора Вэнс

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Доктор Элеонора Вэнс

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