A Familiar Stranger
675 Words
The room felt colder than it should have been.
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Isolde stepped in, closing the door gently behind her.
“Hello, I’m Nurse Isolde Faylen. I was told you requested me.”
Her voice was steady. Practiced.
But something about the atmosphere made her slow down just slightly.
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The man sitting on the bed didn’t answer immediately.
He was watching her.
Not casually.
Not politely.
But… intently.
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Isolde paused.
“…Are you feeling unwell?”
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Lucian didn’t respond right away.
Up close—
She was exactly as he remembered.
Not just her face.
But everything else.
The way she held herself.
The slight hesitation before speaking.
The quiet warmth in her tone.
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The same.
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“Are you always this cautious?” he asked finally.
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The question caught her off guard.
“…Excuse me?”
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“You paused before speaking,” he said. “You’re measuring your words.”
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Isolde blinked.
Then gave a small, awkward laugh.
“I… that’s normal for work.”
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Lucian watched her a moment longer.
“You’re lying.”
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The words were calm.
Flat.
Certain.
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Her smile faltered slightly.
“…I don’t think that’s relevant to your condition.”
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A pause.
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Lucian almost smiled.
Almost.
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She deflected.
Just like she did back then—
Without even realizing it.
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Isolde stepped closer, reaching for his chart.
“Can you tell me what happened?”
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Lucian’s gaze followed her hand.
“Does it matter?”
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“…It does if I’m treating you,” she replied.
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He leaned back slightly.
Relaxed.
In control.
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“Let’s say,” he said slowly, “I wanted to see someone.”
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Her brows drew together.
“…You came to a hospital to see someone?”
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“Yes.”
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“That’s not how that works.”
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Lucian tilted his head slightly.
“Isn’t it?”
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Isolde hesitated.
There it was again.
That feeling.
Subtle.
Unsettling.
Like she was missing something important.
---
“…Are you in pain?” she asked instead, redirecting.
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Lucian didn’t answer.
Not directly.
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“Do you always choose this place?” he asked.
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“This hospital?”
“Yes.”
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“…I work here,” she said simply.
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“Why?”
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The question came too quickly.
Too personally.
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Isolde paused.
“…Because people need help.”
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A simple answer.
But she meant it.
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Lucian studied her expression carefully.
No hesitation.
No doubt.
---
Still the same.
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“…You haven’t changed,” he said quietly.
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Her hand stopped.
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“…I’m sorry?”
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Lucian looked at her fully now.
Not observing.
Not analyzing.
Just… looking.
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“You still believe that,” he said.
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A faint unease crept into her chest.
“…Have we met before?”
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There it was.
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Lucian didn’t answer immediately.
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Instead—
He leaned slightly forward.
Just enough to close the distance between them.
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“Do you think we have?”
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Her breath caught—just slightly.
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“…I don’t know,” she admitted.
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And for the first time—
Something in Lucian’s expression shifted.
---
Not visible enough for most people to notice.
But it was there.
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“I don’t know.”
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The same words.
The same tone.
The same girl.
---
“…That’s interesting,” he murmured.
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A knock came suddenly from the door.
“Is everything alright?”
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Isolde stepped back instinctively.
“Yes—everything’s fine!”
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The moment broke.
Just like that.
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She looked at him again.
Longer this time.
Trying—
Failing—
To place him.
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“…I’ll begin your check-up,” she said, returning to her duties.
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Lucian leaned back again.
Calm.
Patient.
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Because now—
He didn’t need to rush.
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She didn’t remember him.
Not yet.
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But she was already thinking about him.
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And that was enough.
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- Writer
