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•NERVES•
Monday, October 18th, 2010 . . . 1:26 P.M.
"He's coming today?" Eleanore wondered, seeming to look past Genevieve when she spoke. Her gaze was set on something in the distance, fixating on whatever it was with a heavy sense of curiosity. However, unbeknownst to Genevieve, it was, in fact, the famed Plastic Surgeon—Mark Sloan.
He lingered by the elevators at the end of the hall, wearing scrubs similar to other Hopkins Attending surgeons. He conversed with Chief Collier and another Surgical Attending. The three appeared to be getting along, sharing a laugh every now and then, but it wasn't long until Mark and the Chief started to make their way towards the nurse's station—the exact one Genevieve and Eleanore resided at.
At the moment, Genevieve was oblivious to her surroundings. She was preoccupied—focused. Her attention was fixed on her patient's chart, making a note every now and then; considering surgery was scheduled this evening for the little boy whose chart she dictated. However, she did manage to spare a smidgen of her attention to answer Eleanore's awaiting inquiries.
"Yeah. He should be here soon—I think. I'm not really sure what time, two o'clock maybe," she responded, shrugging her shoulders as she rambled, assuming as much considering she knew for a fact today was the day he was arriving due to the few texts they've exchanged. However, she was vaguely aware of the time.
