Dr. Beast and his Inamorata

5. Life or synonym of the wife...

Dr.Ishaan, I, and silence, the best friend of Dr.Ishaan started our journey to the preoperative ward. To calculate, it's not more than thirty yards but with a boring person like him, it's seeming like miles. But there was something, my brain was planning to do, at that present moment. That was to kick out Dr.Ishaan's best friend from between us. 

Is it a good idea to speak with him?

Ok, let the right-hand fingers decide whether to speak or not.

Thumb: Speak.

Index finger: Don't speak.

Middle finger: Speak.

Ring finger: Don't speak.

Little finger: Speak.

So the final decision is to 'speak'.

I glanced at him from the corner of my eyes. After knowing him to be a laparoscopic surgeon my respect for him increased more and more. He must be having a very intelligent brain with a sharp and quick-witted memory. Otherwise, he could have never completed his bachelor of medicine, specialization, and even super-specialty at a very young age. But to become like him, I should know the three topmost qualities of Dr.Ishaan.

First: to be silent. Second: to be more silent. And third: to be much more silent.

Dear brain, is it actually necessary, to speak?

Brain: Speak. Speak. Speak.

I wet my lip, "So, you are a Laparoscopic surgeon?" I asked.

"Yes," he replied and stopped in front of a room. I intermittently glanced at him and the room. Last night's memories of me, following him inside the same room replayed. "stop here, I will be back in a—" he cut off watching me smiling.  

"What's the fun to smile, Doctor?" He pried, with his native annoyed tone. Dr. Ishaan and irk go in the same line. He should be called Dr. Ishaan Angry Sharma.  

"Nothing?" I shrugged and tilt my head away from him and pressed my lips against each other to suppress the amused chortle.

I heard him sigh and took a step near to me, inconsiderate of the place he threatened, "Be in your bloody limits." his face was angled down to meet mine. Well, mine was tilted up to meet his. His glare was ferocious while mine was a blazing one.  I am trying to interact with him, but he wants to behave like one aggressive animal with me.

"You should get diplomatic, in a subject: How to communicate with others." Saying I took a step back and gave a once-over to the hallway. There were only a few ward boys and nurses who acted as minding their own business. But seemed to enjoy the free drama. I walk past him and entered the preoperative ward.

He is such a bumptious, ruthless-arrogant-moron.

And Nisha is assuming that I started falling for him. Not even my ballet flats will fall or get flat for this man.

The patient was not in bed. Dr. Moron came a minute later and stood beside me. Whatever, this time I am not going to speak with him. 

"Where is the patient?" I avoided it, took that patient's case sheet, and kept myself involved in it. "I am asking you?" I turned around, avoiding him. "I am not your friend. So, Stop showing attitude to me." He stood in front of me and pulled the case sheet out of my grip. There were a couple of patients who were literally busy speaking with their visitors. 

I turned my gaze at him and replied to him, addressing his own words, "I am being within my limits." That was enough for him to go back to silent mode once again. At least he could have tried to apologize, right? But he didn't, And I shouldn't expect.