𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐄, doctor strange.

Ana

                   Steven paced his room nervously, his boots booming across the floorboards as he repeated the same three steps over and over, his hands pulling at each other behind his back. His brows were furrowed deeply, his lips set in a grim line as he stared at the floor, his ocean blue eyes tinted with confusion and anger.

                   When the girl had first been brought here, something had been off about her. There was an air around her that pulled at Steven, something mystic. The Eye had nearly scorched him when he had carried the light woman to a guest room, and he had cried out when he had closed her door quietly, throwing it off his neck and to the floor with a metallic thump. The empty spot on his chest was foreign to him, and the Eye sat glaring at him on his dresser, glowing as usual. 

                  Inhaling sharply, he twisted on his heel with a squeak and stalked out his door, persisting to keep his shaking fists from curling up when he arrived at the mahogany door of the guest room, where muffled sounds escaped from underneath it, bright yellow light filtering through the edges. She was awake. Raising his hand tentatively, watching it tremble out of the corner of his eye, he curled it into a fist and knocked gently twice, taking a cautious step back from the door, his thumbs twiddling together in front of him. The noises stopped, a shadow appearing behind the door before the knob twisted and the woman appeared in the doorway.

                  She was a tall woman in her late twenties, her oval face a clear tanned peach, her brunette wavy hair falling over her shoulders and tangled. Her eyes was a luminscent blue, like the sea, alluring and kind, her eyelashes long. Her puckered lips were a light pink, contrasting nicely to her skin tone, her upturned button nose above them dotted with brown freckles. Her eyebrows were neatly groomed and thin, and were crinkled in confusion at Steven. Her bloodied work attire was replaced with a thick-strapped navy blue scoop neck summer dress that flowed to her knees, covering her slender long-legged body, her feet barefoot.

                Her hand left the doorknob, and she looked at Steven a grim expression, her eyes curious and accusing. Steven bit his lip, unusually tense, and cleared his throat, and the woman shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, until she finally inhaled sharply, looking down at the floor with a grim expression. She licked her lips as she looked up back at Steven, one hand propped against the door, the other clutching the other rim of the doorway for balance. Steven looked down and noticed the blood-stained bandages wrapped around her right lower leg he had asked the first sorcerer to put on, and he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling anxiously.

             " Who are you?" the woman said finally, her voice quiet and tinted with New York and British. Steven gritted his teeth together. " I'm Steven Strange," he replied confidently, smiling tightly at the woman, who nodded slowly, eyes still slightly accusing. " I'm Ana Johnson," she said, holding out a feminine hand in front of her, giving Steven a blank expression. He gently slipped his hand in hers, and sighed at how warm hers was inside his. She gave a firm single shake, never breaking Steven's gaze, before she slowly slipped her hand from his. 

              Steven felt his hands tremble more than normal.