If love was Strange

stration. I've been here for four days, and nobody bothered to email me or c

tting across from us. They're both busy with their notes. "Mr. Devon and Mr. Jefferey have been on my team for a

ading his papers as if there isn't a whole room full of professionals discussing a little girl's life.

ection for your own notes if needed. Doctor Sawyer..." His eyes find mine over his glasses. I'm not a fan of being called that. I've never been called Doctor in the UK, I haven't earned

fine, he is more experienced and has

g I make eye contact with each person in the room. Excep

s case? From what I've heard, you are very new to the department and were a lab worker only two yea

e w

or some reason, as a woman in the medical and scientific field, I'm never taken as seriously as m

as me and she never ge

ack down, especia

oms, and have spoken with her family numerous times about ways to help them find equipment at home, ease of traveling, and anything to help her. There's only so much available in the United Kingdom, so we are limited unless we can organ

Laura smili

mselves, I relax, resting bot

g a diagnosis and a quality treatment plan for the patient.

threatening to suffocate me. As a professional, it i

gled to sep

cited when we have appointments, the beaming grin alone is enough for me to continue fighting for her. Her seizures aren't as intense now that I've gotten her on different medication, and

ep at

ithout looking at me. Laura rests a hand on my shoulder and tells me I

heck over all of the documents again. I throw my bag ov

make my way out the room. I don't get far as my foot hits a

arble floor, paperwork and

g from the ground and holding his hand out for me to grab. In his

es, attempting to reign in my annoyance and tiredness, I try to stack all the paperwork back into the box. I see him in my per

ing happens to

head, still on my knees and staring a

into the box, and I can tell a

e twi

e y

ld really sit on the seats or in an

aven, with penetratingly vibrant blue eyes, and long lashes to match his dark hair and brows. Now that I'

he asks with a

rry. I'm just tired and

charity bands, and isn't heavily tattooed like my ex. "Sorry I tripped you," he apologises, handing m

He's very aware of who I am, we just spent hours in a room tog

with a tilted head, "

ne calls me that. J

way my name sounds on his tongue, tasting

wl at

ering me his hand once again to help me stand, and I realize I

ervous? I'

ants. You're working on t

ow why I'm stat

eople. If Laura was here, she'd mos

nees. Stepping back, grabbing his bag, and throwing it over his shoulder