𝐢𝐯. vicinal

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vicinal - a person who has special knowledge or skill in a field (noun)

⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆

My eyes were immediately drawn to the shelves decorating the room, in which bottles and jars were filled with concerning and abnormal substances. The pungent smell of herbs, spices and incense mixed in the air, hitting my nostrils abruptly.

"Have a seat over there," the man told me, gesturing to a corner of the room next to a small window.

I made my way through the small and cluttered room to a small bed comforted with a grey blanket, and a pillow laying at the head of the bed. The harsh wood underneath the bed scratched at my back as I laid down, the thin mattress on top of the wood doing next to nothing for comfort. Rusty metal tools hung on the cracked wooden walls, and herbs that dangled from the ceiling further decorated the cramped clinic. The crackling of wax candles filled the mostly silent room, along with the occasional creeks from the wooden floor.

"Think happy thoughts," I thought anxiously, aiming to hide my feelings of fear and anxiety from the man.

Eventually, the young doctor turned around and pulled out a wooden chair, sitting in front of my horizontal form.

"My name's Henry Palmer," he stated, a soft smile plastering his handsome face as he offered me a hand, "welcome to my clinic."

"I'm Y/n," I replied, accepting his hand cautiously.

He smiled, pressing his soft lips against my knuckles, "That's a pretty name, Y/n."

My cheeks turned a light pink colour at his sudden bold gesture as I pulled my hand away.

"Is it possible for me to inspect your wounds?" Henry requested, rearranging the curious instruments that covered the table next to him.

I bit my lip, reluctantly unbuttoning my stained shirt, revealing a sports bra underneath and the wounds that tainted my torso and arms.

I watched as Henry's eyes widened. He studied each of my wounds carefully, his slender hands occasionally grazing over the patches of black and purple skin. After several minutes of silence, he finally spoke.

"How did you get these," Henry questioned, his smooth voice acting as a calming aide to my anxiousness.

"I got into an accident," I explained, wincing as he continued to trace my cuts and bruises.

He tilted his head, his dark brown eyes meeting my e/c ones. "How long have you had them?"

I thought, trying to remember how long I'd been in this place.
"Maybe a week ago? I'm not totally sure.."

He let out a sigh before speaking, "Your wounds weren't treated properly so it will take longer for them to heal."

I restricted myself from groaning.

"I'll try my best to help you Y/n."
Henry stared at me for a while, not saying or doing anything. After several moments, he shook his head, clearing his throat.

"How long will I be in this place?"  I thought to myself, watching as Henry left his chair and strode around the cramped room, collecting a variety of items.

I attempted to take a deep breath, causing me to inhale the strong fumes of burning incense which forced me to break out in coughs.

"Is everything okay?" Henry asked as he continued to inspect and gather medical instruments.

"I'm fine, just... clearing my throat.." I replied, my eyes tearing as I attempted to stop my rapid coughing.

Henry strode back over to the corner I was in, placing the various instruments on a small table as he spoke, "Do I have to check you for the bubonic plague or any other diseases?"

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