I looked at Dr. Red's photos as my driver brought me to the hospital where she worked. Finally, I would be meeting the daughter of Mr. Albert Grey. Calla was a mistake, but she had stubbornly occupied a part in my heart. I did not meet Dr. Red right away because I was hoping that time would help me take off Calla from my mind. I have promised Sir Thomas to win her heart if possible, but meeting Calla first, defeated our plan.
I got off from the car the moment my driver pulled over the parking lot. I couldn't wait to see Dr. Red, partly because I wanted to know my reaction when I would finally see her in person. I was hoping that her presence would also bring me a spell, a more effective spell than what Calla was using. Of course, this was only my presumption, but what would I think after being told that Calla could win any man's heart if he looks into her eyes?
When I glimpsed a shadow by the window of the isolation room, my heart pounded loudly against my chest. Just as I expected, she peeped at me through the glass window. Even if she was totally-covered from head to toe, I could still figure out her beautiful face. I understood why the triage personnel placed me in an isolation room. It's because any man that had travel history, especially like me who also had complaints of respiratory illness, should be considered as a suspect for the virus infection.
I stared into her eyes, foolishly wishing that somehow, Calla's spell would be reverted to me. Instead of me and any other man falling for her the moment we looked into her eyes, may this time, it would be Dr. Red to fall in love with me. One quick stare from her and our eyes locked.
"Good morning, doc!" I greeted her, drawing her eyes on me. I knew I was a fool to think that a piercing gaze would make her attached emotionally to me.
She stared at me, and I felt triumphant. I knew she was melting in my gaze, and it made her feel uneasy. To my surprise, it seemed that I had succeeded in winning her through my eyes, just as how love at first sight does. She was looking at me as if she was seeing a gorgeous man for the first time!
"Good morning, Mr.?" she asked, and her voice was as beautiful as she was.
"Sean...Sean Grey." My lips twisted into a delicious curve, and I saw her eyes glowed. She then smiled back, and I stared at her lips, imagining how it would feel like in my mouth.
"I'm Dr. Red, Red Nelson, your physician-on-duty today. Now, may I ask, Mr. Grey, what prompts you to come here?" she asked, but her eyes were also on my lips. I swallowed hard before I replied. I never expected that my stares also seemed to affect her.
"I was one of those who went to Sama Island a month ago."
"It's already a month, isn't it?" she clarified; a load of worries seemed to dispel right away from her heart with her initial conclusion that I was not a suspect for the virus infection. The incubation period was only one to two weeks before the signs and symptoms start to manifest. Cough, fever, and red patches all over the body were the cardinal signs, and airborne transmission was how the virus spread itself.
"Yes, but I'm getting paranoid when I learned that a lot of tourists are tested positive of the virus," I answered with a wide grin, hoping she hadn't caught my pretense in coming here.
"After that, have you gone back to Sama Island or traveled to countries where the virus is on outbreak?"
"No."
"What else prompted you for a check-up?"
"I have a cough."
"Describe your cough, Mr. Grey," she said, and her addressing me in my name got me tickled in my heart. Hoping that soon, I would be calling her Dr. Grey.
"It's dry and persistent like every time I got my asthma attack."
"Are you having a breathing difficulty?"
"Not anymore. I had my puff."
"Do you also have a fever?"
"Not yet."
She laughed hard at my answer. Probably, because I sounded paranoid, I threw her a puzzled look, but she ignored me. She walked over to my side, placing the diaphragm of her black stethoscope into the quadrants of my back. I felt nervous in front of her as she bent a little to listen to my lung sounds. I stared into her eyes again, as she did her ministrations on my chest, almost tempted to place both of her palms, instead. I hoped she hadn't heard the erratic thumpings of my heart.
"Go home, Mr. Grey," she said, and I got unhappy that my moment with her soon ended.
"Why do you send me home? Aren't you going to test me if I am positive or not? Aren't you going to treat me?" I protested, trying to buy more time.
"You are as silly as I am, Mr. Grey," I heard her mumbled, speaking softly to herself. She perhaps did not realize that I heard her because she looked away in shame, as soon as she saw my brows turning up.
"What did you say?" I asked, my confused gaze turned into a spark of amusement.
"I mean, you are as paranoid as me. Look at me now, wrapped in this troublesome protective gear, thinking that you are infected with the virus," she explained, laughing but not over what she said, but for her craziness.
She began removing her shields, including her goggles and her mask before she spoke again to me.
"Mr. Grey, just continue your maintenance medication for your asthma. I'll give you an antihistamine for five days, but you may consult your doctor if symptoms get worse."
"Give me your number," I said, with all the seriousness I could muster. She looked at me, dumbly, and her mouth fell open.
"My number?"