She followed very quickly behind him, having to literally jog to keep up as his incredibly long legs stormed through the sterile corridor.
The bright hospital completely reeked of strong antiseptic and cold, unfeeling professionalism. Bright white walls. Shining white floors. Harsh fluorescent lighting that made absolutely everything feel sterile and lifeless.
Thalia hated it already.
She walked very fast, just slightly behind Ermond as his heavy steps echoed loudly through the quiet corridor. Her hand brushed anxiously against her chest again.
'Why does it feel so tight?' she wondered, deeply confused. 'He's probably not dying. He's probably just bruised or something.'
Still, the heavy feeling definitely didn't leave her.
'Maybe it's misplaced guilt. Maybe it's anger. Maybe I'm just incredibly tired from work.'
But that definitely wasn't it. Not really.
Her small fingers curled tightly into a soft fist. She fiercely told herself she absolutely wasn't worried.
