Everywhere the wind blows

Dayna Leah Wilson P.O.V-

What Dr Williams said was unfortunately true.

Noah was indeed in that man's care and I can't do or even speak anything about it except to prepare and send him off on his merry way back to his home town, which is exactly what I'm trying to do. I finished preparing the ambulance and double-checking on the extra supplies that had to be prepared for Noah's departure so he can be as comfortable and as healthy (as much he can be now anyway) on his way back.

As I proceed with the necessary still pending paperwork with a heavy heart, I felt a sudden presence behind me.

And what's worse is that I uncomfortably know who it is. It's like a type of spidey sense. Weird.

"Confirmed?" A voice too rough, too silky, too dense but just perfect in any sense anyway makes my skin prickling with awareness. His eyes are on the back of my head and I feel...

What do I feel? What am I feeling? It's so foreign to me and I'm unable to place a name to the strange sensations over my body. I don't even understand anymore.

"Yeah." I reply trying to act cool, not turning back for the reply. I mean, doctors are cool. Cool as in, dope af - that's one of the perks of studying medicine. I mean, I technically am doing important paperwork, unnecessarily burdensome as it is.

"All good here. Can I help you?"

No response. In fact after a few seconds, I began to think if I was hallucinating, but I still feel the unwavering heat of the body behind me confirming that I am not losing my senses after all.

I turned around.

And there he stood. The man in grey. The person that I force myself to not even think about, but fail nonetheless.

Every corner I turned I kept searching for his suited frame, every person that turns makes me expect it to be him. That's so frustrating! Especially the fact that his face gets blurry as time goes on and I can't remember what shade of green his eyes were. Was it deep green? The forest tropical one? Or the darker, almost brown shade? Or was it an emerald shade?

Oh what the hell?

I hate it! I absolutely loath it! I was never one to pin over a man I've seen for half a minute, but well, here I am.

He is wearing a suit so damn perfectly tailored to fit his framework. Hair dark as the wolf's fur I imagined (the reason that I thought I was losing my damn mind in the first place by the way), and eyes as green as the forests (tropical but a shade darker – keep in mind!!!) stuck glittering with an unspoken emotion shining through as if he's trying to tell me something, enough that I was tempted to drown in and search for what he's trying to communicate non-verbally, but I refused to (practicality and all that you know).

I found that I wanted to know what he's saying to me, that I was desperate to. I wanted to know it just like I want to know everything he'll ever say.

I'm being ridiculous. Even my damaged brain recognizes that, but the need to connect with him is just so overwhelming, and so so tempting.

A face so perfect, I wanted to-

Nope. Snap out of it! But I wanted to what? I don't know. I don't see who cares.

I realized that I was probably staring like a creep. Well, he certainly was doing the same to me, which weirdly I didn't find uncomfortable with. He looked at me as if looking he was looking at something precious, something priceless. And that, made me feel the weirdness. I wasn't used to random people looking that way, or even making me feel mushy inside at the same time.

He was (happily) no dream of mine and not a fiction of my imagination.

There, confirmed.

His face was a fading image in my mind and I would be lying if I said seeing him again didn't please my memory of him that was being strengthened.

But at the same time, it killed me inside, the dread that perhaps I was losing something away and unnecessarily trying to pacify myself, but I just couldn't bloody stop and take my eyes away from his face.

But the most appalling fact is that I also felt amazing to do that exchange of passing some of me away.

Olive toned skin, thick eyebrows, long lush eyelashes that framed his eyes so thick that it gave a husk feel, his face so perfect it should be illegal. His nose slanted just right to shape his lips, oh his lips!

So firm and kissable, I wanted to slap myself.

Why did I want to remember him? Why did I want to never forget?

The Greek god Adonis in front of me is probably why.

What's going on??

.

.

.

I pinch myself hard enough to bring sense along with the jolting pain.

Priorities. Set them straight.

I bring myself to back into reality, as harsh as it may be, and force myself to remember the reasons why I can never even think anything of or with him.

Tilting my head to the side as if still waiting for him to answer, the question I already forgot, I look up to him focusing my will onto his eyes. Which, as you guessed perfectly, was a mistake, but I somehow managed to remain here, as in the present reality, and not in my head. Barely though.

Feeling my change in heart, his gaze becomes one that of heated defiance. And I harden my gaze to a glare.

People always said that I was a kind, compromising and much of a sweet to do much damage to anyone. But for some reason I wanted to resist. I wanted to stand out. Perhaps it is the fact that he carried around him an aura of confidence and dominance, which I wanted to combat with. I wanted to show him that I'm not some other woman that did what was told.

I stood in my right, no matter if it's the same right or wrong of other people.

That flow of thinking is what made me stand strong in my line of occupation, and not faint at the sight of blood - I'm telling ya, you need nerves to do that, and a ell of a lot of 'em too. But that's what made me want to fight for other who can't (not the blood, the strength).

I stand for what I think is good and what I think is needed. And I don't think moving Noah to a new hospital was convincing enough. Yes, he is way better in the hands of doctors who know him earlier on, but he hasn't reached that stage where he can travel yet. And God forbid that he has a phobia of travelling after his accident!

He has been here for maybe four days and he's being changed! What craziness!?! At least, let him adjust to his healing body enough so that mobility is possible (which I think will be soon enough given his super healing), but no.

I liked that kid to be honest. And I wanted so bad to help him fight off his demons in any way I can, no matter how little I contributed to his better health. And I can feel that the man in front of me is part of whatever that is happening now. And I don't like it. Not one bit. Especially the fact that I don't know what it is.

"I can see the wheels turning Dr Dayna. What are you thinking?" He asked.

"How do you know my name?" I question back.

His tone is amused when he answers "Your name tag." I blush deep red and then he smiles showing off his dimples! The dimples!

I'm such a sucker for dimples, and I want to melt...No! Bad Dayna NO!

Ugh the nerve of the man to use his tool like that! What a guy! At least, he knows how to wield it properly.

Hmm.

I took a deep breath just to make sure that I was breathing and then replied curtly to his initial question, "The ambulance to shift the patient will be ready shortly, but need you fill some papers for Noah's discharge and transport from here." His brows furrowed in concentration to my words.

Cute. Nope. Not cute!

I don't miss the fact that he now is listening to me and my instructions, which he's taking seriously. I respect that he's listening to my words and focusing on what I'm saying, I did have the displeasure of meeting quiet a few people who didn't.

"The reception will provide you with the documents necessary for this procedure. Please head there. The faster you reach, the faster you fill out those forms." I try to smile, but it probably comes out squiggly and weird. Well, beggars can't be choosers. And I dash.

Well, I try to before I'm stopped with another question.

"What if I need some sort of assistance?"

"I'm sure it will be provided to you by the reception."

"But what if I need assistance from you?"

"I don't think you will be needing any from me to sign some papers." My eyebrows furrow in suspicion at his delightfully calm facade.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive Mr-?"

"Alexander. Alexander Black."

"Right Mr Black, if that is all..." my bloodstream fills up with adrenaline. What do you know? Here's a person getting high BP for a conversation.

"Please call me Alexander, and thank you for taking care of Noah so much till now."

"Oh!" Now my brows furrow in surprise. "You're welcome." But somehow it comes out as a question.

"He is- was my patient and it was my duty to do so anyway."

His eyes bore at me, his stare burning holes into my very soul as I try not to crumble into my instinct telling me to break eye-contact and look downwards. My heart pounds in my chest and I wonder if he can hear it having its own staccato to its beat.

He nods. Then I dash again my heart still pounding.

-----

Emerging from my office much sooner than I preferred after the dreadful event, I hand in the necessary files and documents of all the tests, results, observations and other reports that is to be transferred to the next hospital and Noah's next set of doctors, to my supervisor.

She goes through my very first official patient documentation, despite how incomplete the case is, with fever intensity as I make my way to part with Noah with a racing heart.

When I decided to start studying medicine and later majored in psychology, I was aware that hearts wanting to jump out of my body was a common thing but I did not realize how frequent it is. Can be dangerous you know?

*blink blink*

The first person I spot is surprisingly Evelyn, who looks like she had stepped out of the room quiet a while ago, walking back and forth with her face as colored, if not more, as the brightest red wall beside her. I pat her on the back and give her a small tensed smile indication just how similarly happy I am with what is going on(detect sarcasm here).

I reported the confirmation of the procedures and transportation of Noah by telephone to her the minute I got it just to make sure that she doesn't end up grilling the doctor with her burning glares. See, I save lives!

"The nerve of the man! He told me to scoot out since the kid was his client now and he wanted to do another check-up. How rude!!" She exclaims ready to bolt open the door to punch the newly arrived doctor, and I exhale. At least one of us is displaying the anger for the both of us.

Upon entering the room I spot Noah clutching the said doctor, with a tired look on his pale face. Their faces turn to look at Evelyn and I when the door opens.

I smile at my soon departing patient and I see his lips twitch which I hope is to give a small smile. I take it as a confirmation that he doesn't hate me and that's progress. I think. I glance at the doctor to find him looking at the extra report sheet that I had left earlier, I don't mind.

I go to Noah.

"Well Noah, for what it's worth it was nice meeting you." He nods in acknowledgement and I pat him on the shoulder lightly to make sure that I don't hurt him, and I proceed to leave the room filled with misery.