| [Jun. 19th, 2008|03:45 am] |
Hayate really, really hated cold things. The table was cold, the stethoscope was cold, and Haruichi's hands were like ice! He was certainly not high on Hayate's "likeable people" list.
He pricked up, though, when Haruchi started laying out items for drawing blood. Hayate wasn't terribly fond of needles, but the process of blood-drawing was always interesting. He rolled his sleeve up without protest. Haruichi's hands might have been cold, but they were deft and sure about their motions. Hayate watched closely, especially when Haruichi angled the needle above a good vein and slipped it in.
It stung a little, but not that bad. The blood that filled the syringe was dark and thick. It was a beautiful shade of deep crimson, swirling beneath the clear plastic in fascinating whorls and currents.
Hayate knew most people didn't like to watch themselves get poked with needles, nor see their own blood, and was unsurprised when Haruichi spoke up. |
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