Unspoken Agreement || J.JK

ᴏɴᴇ

I've been waking up drenched in sweat, all my dreams full of my regret

―⋆ ⭒⭒⭒ ⋆―

RAINA

"Scalpel." I instruct, not taking my eyes off the skin that I'm soon cutting apart. The operation had only begun a few minutes ago and I feel calm and collected in the process, ultimately focusing on not screwing it up.

I'm saving lives day after day, never once breaking the Hippocratic oath and until this very moment I can proudly say I'm enjoying in giving people hope.

Because hope is the only thing that makes our soul feel alive.

Seeing the relieved faces on patient's relatives and the smiles showing after always give me the satisfaction of doing my job just the way I'm supposed to.

It's a hard lifestyle, knowing somebody could be gone just like that under the tips of your fingers. I could never wash away the guilt if it happened on my account. But I can say I'm passionate about drawing additional lines to live with.

"Scissors." My voice cuts through the silent air, the heart monitor simultaneously beating in the background to assure me that nothing's going wrong.

It feels like I've been in here for ages, when in reality, it's just long and stressful minutes that turn into hours. The hard work pays off once more, and I leave the operating room to deliver good words to the impatient family that waits in the hallway, their nerves probably overwhelming.

Pairs of feet are rushing to my side, obnoxious and stumbling. Their anticipation grows along with their heartbeats as soon as I'm in their eyes.

"Everything went well, you can see her in a couple of hours when the medication begins to remiss." I explain lowly, tired and lightheaded with my hands tucked inside the pockets.

"Thank you so much." The woman squeezes my arm, looking fondly at the man by her side and I smile, leaving them to relieve their minds and finally take a breath.

Skipping the large, busy corridors, my only goal is to change out of the scrubs. My muscles are aching from exhaustion and I can only think about sleep, the nerves blocking out after I'm no longer under the red light anymore.

When I get to my office, I immediately lay down on the small velvet couch by the wall and get some rest.

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"Take this."

I look up from my desk, a smile appearing on my face at the sight of coffee. Evelyn passes me a to-go cup, motioning me to follow her out on our break. We walk down the corridor, past her office and to the benches outside the hospital.

"Now tell me what's been bugging you. I can see something's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong." I say, meaning it.

"I know you a little better than that, don't you think?" She gives me a look. "You seem distracted."

"I'm having a bit of trouble sleeping, but that's nothing new."

"I thought you said it was getting better?"

"It was. Now it's getting back to its old ways."

"Stress?"