“You know I’m not that kind of doctor,” Bruce points out in his usual mellow tone.
Natasha pops up on the bed anyway and tilts her head playfully. “Am I that bad a patient?” She leans forward ever so slightly, flirtatious cant of her lips, lets him chew on that as he decides whether or not she actually means it.
“Early stages,” the doctor went on and Chuuya barely heard him, still stuck on such completely unexpected results.
It was his second annual hanahaki screening. Kouyou had insisted from the time he hit puberty that he use a fake identity and show up dutifully at the hospital a city over to get them.
He also wasn’t in love.
“There isn’t anyone,” he cut impatiently into the doctor’s rambling. “I’m not in love with anyone.”
The doctor blinked. “Well, you’re a teenager. It may be puppy love and go away.”
“Familial love?” he asked hopefully. Maybe it was Kouyou.
But no.