You knock lightly on the white-painted door. You wait a few seconds like you were trained to do, then you open the door with a gentle smile.
"How's my favorite patient?"
You walk into the white room quietly.
The man lying on the bed lifts his head lightly, and gives you a weak smile. "I'm fine." He whispers hoarsely. His body disagrees with him. The areas around his eyes are red, and his stubble is starting to grow out. His shoulder-length hair, dark-brown hair is disheveled, and he looks extremely tired.
You frown, and sit on his bed without asking for his permission. He sits up, making room for you.
"You don't have to fake anything to me, Mr. Smith." You say, giving him a reassuring smile.
He shakes his head, "You can call me Sam, Nurse (Y/L/N)."
You grin, "Well Sam, you can call me (Y/N), then."
A furious buzzing goes off in your brain, but you ignore it. Sam scowls at you. You think about what you said, and why it would merit such a reaction, but the more you look at his scowl, that more it looks like he's angry at something past your shoulder.
"Is everything ok, Sam?" You ask, concerned. The buzz goes off again, and it feels like a bee flying around your skull. You shake your head in an attempt to get rid of it, but to no avail.
"Excuse me." You say. You leave Sam's room, rubbing your temples lightly.