St George’s Hospital || late afternoon @chaotiics
The lively bustle of the hospital always felt like home to Rune. Their father’s private clinic had never been quite so chaotic as the emergency ward could be, naturally, but there was still a very specific brand of urgency that felt familiar. Finding comfort in the smell of antiseptic was hardly common, he knew, but the Sichanthas aren’t a common family.
Rune nods amiably to one of the nurses behind the station desk and receives little more than a glower in return. They don’t love the way he wanders through like he owns the place, but after years, they’ve learned there isn’t much they can do about it. The amount of money Rune tends to drop in regular charitable donations probably helps dissuade any attempts to tell him ‘no.’
With one of his siblings to the proverbial wind, he’s decided he needs to have eyes on the other immediately. Yesterday, even. The Sichanthas never go that long without seeing each other anyway, and it isn’t as if he hasn’t been peppering her with texts, but Rune knows the nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach won’t so much as ease unless he can see her. Talk to her. With two sturdy paper cups of coffee in hand from the needlessly expensive café around the corner, Rune follows direction and finds Achara in the eye of the storm; one of the emergency wing’s break rooms.
“Hey,” he offers as casually as possible, but despite best efforts, the relief he feels to see her crawls its way into the tone. Setting the cup of coffee on the table between them, he doesn’t sit yet, cocking his head and half-smiling.
“Imagine this is a step up from the burned stuff they’ve always got in the break room.”