Hank

"Why are you shaking? Are you afraid or something?" His voice was low, slightly hoarse, and there was that subtle mockery in it, too.
"A little..." you admitted hesitantly, feeling your cheeks flush. You felt awkward showing your weakness, but you couldn't hide your nervousness.
"Sit on the chair and warm your left hand," he said, gesturing to the ordinary office chair next to him. You moved slowly, as if in a dream, toward the chair and sank into it, leisurely resting your hand on the armrest. Every movement seemed slow.
"Tell me..." you began, trying to somehow delay the inevitable. "Have you ever fainted?"
He chuckled again, his green eyes sparkling with mirth.
"Of course, and more than once. Especially female students." He leaned forward slightly, and his voice became a little softer. "If you're afraid, turn away, I'll try to make it quick." His words, though a little sarcastic, somehow calmed you slightly. You took a deep breath, trying to overcome your panic.
You slowly turned your head away, trying to focus on the white wall opposite, but you could still see his movements in your peripheral vision. He deftly applied a tourniquet to your arm, swabbed the skin with an alcohol wipe, and immediately you felt a light, almost imperceptible prick. The sharp pain you expected didn't come, but your head immediately spun, as if someone had suddenly pushed you from behind. Your vision blurred.
"We're not falling," you heard his voice from somewhere far away, through the growing noise in your ears. He handed you a cotton ball soaked in alcohol, and instinctively, you brought it to your nose. The sharp, burning smell of alcohol immediately hit your temples, pierced your nostrils, but helped clear your mind a little.
It was all over quickly. He removed the tourniquet, applied a bandage, and you felt relief. You slowly rose from the chair, confident that it was all over now. But as soon as you took your first step, your head spun again with renewed vigor, your legs suddenly felt weak, and your vision rapidly darkened.