The evening sunset cast a warm glow through the windows of Dr. Ziegler's office. The rays blinded her as she rummaged through the junk drawer. She angrily threw the crumpled documents around in hopes that there was a stapler in there somewhere. Within a few moments, however, she gave a sharp squeal and threw her arm back out of the drawer. A scarlet dot began to manifest on her index finger. Wonderful. A look of disgust crossed her face before placing her finger in her mouth, and throwing out the tack that caused the puncture wound.
Upon returning back to the drawer, the edge of a photo caught her attention. Still sucking on her wound, she gently pulled it out, but only looked at it for a second before realizing what the picture was of. Her heart rate sped up and Dr. Ziegler almost dropped it. Even after all these years she couldn't forget that woman's look of superiority.
Dr. Ziegler stood a few moments longer, entranced in those heterochromic eyes. The picture was taken not too long after she and Dr. O'Deorain first got together.
With a heavy sigh, she set the image down for she was so startled and frustrated that it would've crumpled in her hands if it was held for much longer. She looked back at her own naïve face on the image. If only she had known then.
****
Dr. O' Deorain winced in pain as she inserted a syringe into her own arm. A tingling sensation swept throughout her it as she flexed it softly. Smiling at her own work, she pulled out a small wipe, and rubbed it gently over the puncture in order to clean it further. In hopes of finding a bandage, she walked over to the closet, and rummaged through the top shelf. Even an old cloth would be acceptable, after all, she didn't want to waste her precious technology on a small inconvenience such as this.
A glint of satisfaction spread across her face as she found something of cloth material. Pulling it down, however, caused several other papers to tumble down as well.
She scoffed at her clumsiness, and began to pick them up. They were just old Overwatch reports which were nothing of importance, however, she paused her thoughts when picking up a piece of folded paper written in an oddly familiar handwriting.
Grasping it in her claw-like hand, she gently opened it up to reveal an entire letter . Reading it over, her indifferent expression twisted and changed into a look of pain as very old emotions began to resurface. In a fit of frustration, she threw it to the ground, shaking her head as well which caused her bangs to form a thin veil over her eyes.
Wrapping the cloth around her arm, she walked out of the lab in haste and shut the door, leaving the crumpled letter on the smooth, tiled floor.
****
Dr. Ziegler flipped over the photo on the desk. The back had a small caption in her delicate handwriting that wrote: " Ich und mein Lieblingsmensch ~ ♡".
She stared at it for a few moments longer, reminiscing in the memories it brought back. These memories, however, turned bad fairly quickly causing a surge of anger to rush in. She shook her head, hoping to clear those thoughts before clocking out of work. With a gentle touch, she placed the picture back in the drawer, and proceeded towards the door. Switching out her lab coat for her jacket, she left her work at the Swiss base for the day.
Outside, the stars twinkled, and the night was calm except for the occasional car that drove by. Because the road was so empty, she decided to ride her bicycle along it instead of the usual sidewalk. Cold wind tickled her face as she peddled down to the liquor store. Delicately, she parked her bike outside and wandered in. It didn't take her long to find her favorite German beer, but as she grabbed it her heart dropped down to the floor. She had to do a double take swearing she just saw a ginger head bobbing right outside the window. Looking back, however, it seemed to have disappeared, and only a few random people strolled by. Taking a deep breath she blamed the strange experience on work exhaustion.
Dr. Ziegler finally made her way to the counter, noticing a set of keys someone must've accidentally left there. She handed them to the cashier before checking out and leaving.
****
Dr. O'deorain hopped into her car, a small black sports car. The resurfaced feelings were still lingering, so she decided to wash them away with a dash of vodka. Along the drive she admired the serenity of the night. It wasn't so often that this area had nights such as this.
At the liquor store, she put on a leather jacket, not wishing to attract more attention than was necessary. While inside she quickly grabbed the vodka and headed out, however, as she walked out of the building she swear she saw a familiar blonde face inside as well, but it couldn't be.
YOU ARE READING
My Angel
Fanfiction| #1 IN MOICY | For 8 long years after the disbanding of Overwatch, these former colleagues and lovers part ways and live their life completely independent of each other. Dr. Ziegler is now one of the lead researchers and surgeon of the Switzerland...
