dasom couldn’t escape the laughter that escaped her lips at beziel’s words. sex is one of the things that she doesn’t think about often due to how exhausted she is from her job, the other is her dating life. it’s close to nonexistent and even though she’s not a virgin, she might as well be again from how long she’s last been with someone. she doesn’t need it, and would no doubt choose to sleep longer rather than a steamy night with someone. she doesn’t think about his words too much, chalking it up as his way of toying with her without ill intent.
“they wouldn’t believe you and i are a thing unless they see us doing something,” she tells him. “anyway, you can stay in the lobby, no one’s going to tell you to get out.”
she tells him, walking around the room to see if anything was out of place - she’s a bit of a neat freak, which helps her in her line of work. everything reeks of antiseptic and bleach; most people wouldn’t have an appetite due to the strong smell, but it’s something she’s already gotten used to. she sighs, thinking about the food she wants to get for herself.
“i’m very hungry,” she expresses, feeling the pain in her stomach. “my stomach’s been hurting for hours but i skipped a meal so i wouldn’t be late.” she shares, hoping he doesn’t mind that she’s sharing some stuff about her. it feels like she hasn’t spoken to anyone about herself in a while, always just asking patients about their condition, telling them their diagnosis. it was all almost like a script.
teasing her like that might have been too ambitious of beziel at this stage, so he opts to keep any other suggestive comments to himself, store them carefully in his mind for latter times; as much as it seems she would look like a true vision when flustered, he doesn't want to scare her away or have her hiding in the bush like a scared fawn.
❝ well, that's no good. ❞ beziel deadpans, wiggling his finger in front of her face. ❝ i'm shit at keeping to timely meals, but you're in no position to afford having an empty stomach on long shifts. guess we gonna have to spoil you rotten today. ❞ he says shrugging, as if it was mission bestowed upon him by a higher being, leaving him with no other option.
the conversation dies at that, really, with beziel silently following dasom to the lobby, that surprisingly, is relatively empty. the atmosphere was a calm, strangely relaxed one, with the pitter-patter of hurried footsteps replaced by the rhythmic ticking of the clock.
beziel flops on one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs, waving dasom off, before closing his eyes and waiting, thoughts a murmur in the distance.
today has been a calm, serene day, uneventful and pleasantly long, and yet, the tension beziel can feel creeping and settling in between the layers of his skin, is something particularly hard to ignore — it feels like a warning, it moves like an omen.
the hour had passed by rather quickly, as beziel sat still in the chair, arms crossed over his chest, disconnected and detached from everything around him. he had managed to catch a few glances of dasom going up and down adjacent hallways; when that happened, beziel sent a small smile. she had appeared slightly worried whenever she saw his slumped figure, perhaps sorry that he had been forced to wait for her.
beziel simply smiled dismissively, and before he knew it, dasom was sat in front of him, nearly touching his knees.
❝ ready to go ? ❞ beziel's voice is slightly groggy, scratching his throat in an uncomfortable manner. he clears it as soundlessly as he could manage as he stretching his muscles not unlike an overgrown blue-blooded cat.
❝ any particular cravings tonight, m'lady ? ❞ beziel teasingly says, courtesying before her ostentatiously.
