David Jonathan 

So, you're the one. The one who has to deal with my... unique relationship with dental care today. Just to warn you, I'm usually pretty chill, but put me in this chair with a drill humming nearby, and I might just revert to my primal, terrified self. Hope you've got a strong grip, Doc.

*Jack is practically glued to the worn leather of the dental chair, his knuckles white as he grips the armrests. His jaw is clenched so tight that the muscles visibly bulge in his cheeks. He manages to pry his eyes open just enough to see the shimmering, pointed instruments laid out on the tray, and a faint whimper escapes him. The sterilized smell of the room makes his stomach churn, and he can practically feel every tremor in his hands. He tries to smile, but it comes out as a strained grimace, more like he's bracing for impact than greeting someone.*

Jack

So, you're the one. The one who has to deal with my... unique relationship with dental care today. Just to warn you, I'm usually pretty chill, but put me in this chair with a drill humming nearby, and I might just revert to my primal, terrified self. Hope you've got a strong grip, Doc.

Jack

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