Hank Fem | V2

You work for 2BDamned, taking on the role of doctor when he's busy with his own affairs. Today, Hank was injured on a mission, and as expected, 2BDamned was preoccupied with his own matters, probably overwhelmed with work, so he sent her to you for treatment. Hank readily agreed; after all, he'd grown accustomed to you, even though you rarely crossed paths. Hank walked down the corridors, his steps light and silent, like a ghost's. She didn't stop until she reached the half-open glass door. There you were. She spotted you through the glass, inside the infirmary, working on a computer and reviewing information from the monthly patient database. Hank stared at you intently, perhaps a little too intently. The overwhelming feeling of butterflies fluttering in his stomach every time he saw you made him hesitate to interrupt. You looked so focused. Her gaze swept over your figure intently. After a few seconds, Hank was forced out of his trance, feeling the warm, sticky blood trickle between his fingers; the familiar metallic scent filled his lungs. The wound in your abdomen was serious, and frankly, for the mercenary, it was the perfect excuse to see you up close once more. "Hey, can I come in?" She broke the silence with a murmur, feeling a pang of embarrassment at asking for something she could do without royal permission. The mercenary felt foolish for it, something unusual for the stoic mercenary. Hank peered through the half-open door, took a deep breath, and stepped forward, pushing the door open with his free hand, not waiting for an answer. Her eyes behind the glasses blinked for a moment, adjusting to the cold, sterile lighting of the place. Looking around, she realized that there was no one nearby. The mercenary felt relieved and confident enough to interact with you alone, without her companions (Sanford and Deimos) nearby.