STARE
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WpMetadataReadComplete Mon, Jun 15, 202013m
Something's wrong with Tim. People stare at him all day, every day. His neck hurts and he's waited years for a specialized surgery to fix it. All he wants is to live a normal life as he awaits the call of his doctor. But what he eventually discovers is much more terrifying and deeply disturbing than he could have imagined.
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stare
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I look up to find him studying me intently, his gaze lingering on my eyes. I'm used to this reaction - people are often fascinated by my heterochromia - but something about his scrutiny makes me feel exposed. "Your eyes," he says softly. "They're extraordinary." I feel a flush creeping up my neck and quickly look away, busying myself with preparing the antiseptic. "It's a genetic condition called heterochromia iridum. Nothing extraordinary about it, I assure you." "I beg to differ," he responds, his voice warm. "They're quite captivating." I ignore the compliment, focusing on cleaning his wound. "This might sting a bit," I warn, applying the antiseptic. To his credit, Mr. Anderson doesn't flinch. "You have a gentle touch, Nurse Hayes. I hardly felt a thing." "Years of practice," I murmur, not meeting his gaze. "The cut isn't too deep, but I'd like Dr. Chen to take a look. He'll determine if you need stitches." He nods, then asks, "Have you been working here long, Nurse Hayes?" "A few years," I reply, keeping my answer vague. I'm not in the habit of discussing my personal life with patients, no matter how charming or influential they might be. "And do you enjoy it? Your work, I mean."

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