❝ How would you say you are progressing? It is in our interests to walk you out further than before, now that you have become more familiar with your legs. Of course, if such is too much exertion, then I will make a note and have you clear the usual distance, Mr. Shimada. ❞ Delicate fingers were wrapped around a pen, consulting a clipboard with words typed in a fine ink. She raised her gaze, peering at him through pale lashes, roseate lips twisting into a divine smile. It was kind, welcoming, considerate to her newest patient and scientific success. Dare it not be spoken aloud, for it should send the saints above weeping, but there was a medical interest on Angela’s end. Altruism did so bear its fruits in her heart, saccharine and ripe, though she was a woman of science, to believe that there was not an intellectual concern would be foolishness.
However, she looked ethereal with hair spun of sunlight and eyes that called to mind azure skies and crystalline seas. When she met his gaze, there lay nothing but kindness and interest in her latest project. If all went well, Mr. Shimada would be inducted into Overwatch. If all went well, that was. Angela was prepared to temper his volatile nature, however, her bedside manner impeccable no matter how often he called her a devil and a mad scientist.
Perhaps, in some odd sense of such insults, he was not entirely incorrect in the assessment.
It was in her private hours that she gave wry smiles to such recollections.
@cyborgnx