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“I feel strange.”
“How so, herr Sniper?”
Sniper sighs, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He doesn’t meet Medic’s gaze, despite his thick sunglasses preventing them from making clear eye contact.
Medic doesn’t press him. He knows Sniper has never done particularly well with doctor’s visits. He’s already lucky to have Sniper agree to a checkup to begin with.
“I don’t really know how to describe it, doc.”
“Give it a shot.” Medic states, before giggling. “Pun entirely intended.”
Sniper furrows his eyebrows and pretends not to have heard. “It’s like.. when you’re about to fire off a bow, and you can feel how tight the string is.”
Medic pauses to think, idly drumming his fingers against one of the syringes in his coat pocket.
“Tense?”
“Yeah. It’s like that, but different. It’s tense in a different way.”
“Could you mean anxious?”
“Maybe,” Sniper glances away, scratching at his cheek. It doesn’t look like he’s shaved in a few days. “But I’m not /nervous/ or anything, just.. aware.”
“Of what?”
Sniper looks up at Medic, and his gaze is piercing despite his glasses. His eyes are hauntingly clear, and it freezes Medic to his very core.
Medic shivers. He can’t help it, despite the carefully crafted control he keeps himself under. The last time someone gave him /that/ look, they were dead. In fact, they were the first patient Medic had ever truly lost.
“Of everything, y’know?”