Baran keeps feeling eyes on her at work. The type that's different from an ED of people looking to an attending, a leader, for direction. Eyes that drop the moment she looks up, the opposite of searching. Ones that watch and catalogue and stay silent.
And a part of her feels, not panic, but unease, at the thought that someone is watching her, trying to pick her apart, taking notes and using the evidence for something she doesn't know.
Until she realises someone restocked the herbal tea in the break room, the one only she drinks and forgot to get more of the day before.
She goes to call the lab to add on a test she had thought of hours ago and not had chance to request yet, but the result is already there waiting for her.
An umbrella that appears, propped up against her locker, the day it had forecast rain in the afternoon, when she had resigned herself to a damp wait at the bus stop at the end of shift.
And she has her suspicions. But they're only confirmed when for once Trinity is too slow, and she catches her slipping a protein bar into the pocket of the lululemon jacket she'd left on the back of a chair.
"You don't have to do that."
"... I can stop if you want."
And with the way that Trinity tips her head down, fighting the fact the corner of her lips are turning upwards, the faintest pleased blush spreading up her neck... Well, Baran decides that some eyes on her might not be that bad after all.
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