Placing Kaufman's handkerchief inside the washing machine, Lisa took one last look at it, sincerely hoping she wouldn't further damage the fragile item. Closing the door, she poured in all the necessary powders before switching it on.
Leaning against the opposite wall, she folded her arms and watched as the linen spun round in a continuous, dizzying cycle. She'd ensured that all the white laundry went in together, so as to avoid colours mixing.
Her initial plan was to leave the hanky and come back when everything was complete. However, as she listened to the machine's rhythmic whirr, the nurse found herself reluctant to leave, afraid that something terrible might happen if she did.
All morning she'd been on edge, as though cleaning a handkerchief was somehow more important than her job. She had yet to catch a glimmer of the elusive doctor, but it was early, and she was beginning to learn that he had other priorities.
The wall clock ticked idly by, enveloping the desolate room in it's noisy mechanical sound. It was as irritating as it was welcomed, allowing her to focus on something other than the growing knots in her stomach.
She'd arrived at the hospital an hour early, under the pretense that she was being given an induction by the director. Her mother seemed to accept the story, completely oblivious to her daughter's lies. If she suspected Lisa of being unruly, she never said it.
It was tiresome trying to continuously keep up the facade of a good child. Since leaving school, she'd had little interaction with the outside world, and was beginning to miss the more carefree days of her youth.
Time seemed to pass so quickly, and though she was still only seventeen years old, the intern longed for a more adventurous lifestyle. The humdrum existence she led was nothing but unsatisfying, and she trembled at the thought of becoming her mother.
No, Lisa refused to settle for anything less than what she expected. Unlike her parents, who dated briefly and wed far too soon, the nurse wanted to experience love, revel in lust and defy everything her parents believed her to be.
She knew exactly what she wanted.
She wanted him, but even she could not bring herself to admit it.
Her entire body was pulsing again, both cheeks burning as her thoughts wandered into dangerous territory. Alone in the tiny room, she allowed herself a moment to divulge in her secret thoughts. Tempting fantasies which remained sealed away in the depths of her psyche.
The air grew heavy with a musky, masculine scent; a strange cologne which wasn't pleasant, yet enticed her nonetheless. She inhaled deeply, remembering the empowering aroma, letting it's spicy, strong flavour invade her nostrils.
Next she thought of his skin, rough and worn. It brushed against her soft flesh, grazing the tips of her fingers ever so slightly. It almost tickled. Yet they were busy hands, weathered by years of work. She liked that.
Finally she pictured his face. Unattractive though strangely alluring. His sunken eyes and stiff jaw line suitably becoming of him. She was smitten with his rugged features, finding them inexplicably captivating.
His overly expensive suits and high priced shoes were an attempt to appear middle-class, though wearing a mask proved fruitless before those who knew him personally. And as nobody really knew him that well, this extended mainly to his staff.
But Lisa wanted to know him. She wanted to tear off that mask he wore, rip away the clothing that obscured his soul, savour the tender sugar of his intimate secrets.
Breaking out in a flurry of sweat, the girl fell into a crude squat, cringing into her damp palms as she clenched her thighs tight shut, praying for the pulsating heat to subside. Her breath came in quick, short bursts, eliciting a pained groan as she collapsed onto her knees.
She stayed there for some time, gazing mindlessly at the oppressive grey tile. However explicit her daydreams were, and however much she enjoyed having them, it didn't stop the teen from feeling relentlessly guilty about her own sexuality.
None of her past boyfriends had ever had such an effect on her, and Lisa deeply feared that she was becoming aware of her own body, even as she rejected the notion.
Kaufman was a monster of a man, which only seemed to increase her desire. There was something arousing about his superiority, in the way he veered through an empty world with such blatant disregard. It filled her with excitement.
Without warning, the door to the linen room clicked open, revealing a stocky doctor whom Lisa was not familiar with. Startled, she remained frozen in place, her arms clasped defensively around her chest.
Wearing a stethoscope around his neck, the dusty blonde gave her a quizzical look, seeming almost surprised to find her. Only when the girl got to a shaky stand did he rush to provide her with assistance.
'Are you okay my dear?' He asked, his voice low and compassionate. Well practiced.
'Yeah, I think so.' She replied, allowing him to help her up. 'I'm just feeling a little light headed, that's all. I skipped breakfast this morning.'
He slowly shook his head, supporting her with an outstretched arm. 'You should go and get some rest. Have a bite to eat, it'll make you feel much better.'
'I will,' She nodded, offering a weak smile.
'It's all good and well helping those in need, but if you're not careful, you might end up in one of those hospital beds yourself.'
'You're right, I promise I'll take better care of myself.'
The washing machine ground to a halt, plunging the room into an abrupt silence. The nurse felt she was becoming more adept at lying, though she wasn't proud of it. Folding her hair behind an ear, she focused her attention on the damp laundry.
Doing her best to ignore the lingering doctor, she removed the soggy bedding and shoved it in a dryer, careful to keep the tiny handkerchief separate. There were no instructions on how to dry it, and the nurse was afraid it might burn from the heat.
Clueless, she decided it was better to be safe than sorry, covertly cupping the hanky in the palm of her hand. Switching on the machine, she turned to face the waiting man, feeling as though she were interrupting something.
'Am I in the way?' She enquired, shifting to the side.
'Not at all,' He laughed, searching through a basket of clean sheets.
Lisa didn't know what he was looking for, and she didn't really care. She'd done what she needed to do. Briefly thanking him, the girl swiftly fled the room, not even bothering to ask the man for his name.
It was her embarrassment at being found on the floor, drenched in beads of sweat, which forced the teen to run, ashamed of how uncouth it all must have seemed. The doctor appeared none the wiser, but that didn't make her feel any less humiliated.
Clenching the wet hanky in her hand, the intern made her way down the stairs, feeling an icy draught cool her warm skin. Each step echoed off the walls, thumping around inside her skull like a blaring, invasive siren.
Pausing outside the second floor, she inhaled large amounts of cold oxygen, forcing her quivering body to relax. Drops of water splashed onto the floor, dripping from the wet silk laced between her fingertips.
The handkerchief held a faint brown hue, though it fared much better than when it had first been stained. Slightly disappointed with the outcome, Lisa headed for the first floor restroom, squeezing the hanky over the sink until it stopped leaking.
Sealing it inside her locker, the nurse hoped it would dry before her shift ended. She was itching for an excuse to see him again.