Bloom #01 - Sure You Are

The clinic air was different here. Not the crisp, near-sterile quality of the city's health centers, but something denser, earthier, tinted by something alive. The faint hum of purifiers working in the background couldn't erase it entirely.

Lin adjusted the sleeves of his tunic, letting the fabric settle against his wrists as he stepped through the archway. The agricultural health facility was built like everything else in the Green Belt--open structures, living walls, filtered sunlight warming the biotextile floors beneath his feet. The design felt intentional, a balance between natural and synthetic.

He let himself pause near the entry terminal, his fingers hovering over the moving interface as the system synced with his medical credentials. His schedule materialized in the air before him--soft white text floating against the backdrop of the lobby. He scanned the list, recognizing familiar patients : routine assessments, follow-ups, post-surgical therapy...

A new name. Dorin Vasilescu.

Lin assessed his folder. A farmer. Post-operative physical therapy following a hernia repair.

A group of workers passed by him, their voices low but full of that easy, physical confidence Lin had come to associate with agricultural teams. Their bodies moved with a weight he wasn't used to seeing in his usual patients--broad shoulders, sturdy limbs built for lifting, pulling, planting, moving. Their laughter was unrestrained, their presence filling space in a way that was almost overwhelming.

A woman near the reception desk--Maëlys, the cooperative leader--was speaking to a cluster of field medics. Her voice was low, steady, a contrast to the unhurried rhythm of the workers around her. Lin had always admired that about her--the way she commanded respect without raising her tone.

He tapped his medical slate, linking the file to his queue, and stepped forward.

"Doctor Lin," Maëlys greeted without looking up.

"Coordinator." He inclined his head slightly, stepping closer as she finished her discussion with the medics.

Her gaze flicked over to him, sharp as always. "New patient today."

Lin nodded. "Post-surgical therapy."

She hummed, tapping something on her own slate. "Vasilescu."

The name sounded different when she said it. He glanced back at the open waiting space. Half a dozen people were here for check-ups, some in their work gear, others leaning back, chatting in the unhurried way of people who spent their days outdoors.

"You'll like this one." Maëlys' tone was unreadable.

Lin exhaled softly. He had worked with farmers before--though not often. Their bodies were different from his usual patients. Harder, resilient in ways he wasn't accustomed to touching. He had learned to measure pressure carefully, to account for their instinct to resist discomfort rather than acknowledge it.

His eyes flicked to the open doorway leading toward the consultation rooms. The light there was warmer, gold-threaded, spilling into the waiting area.

A shadow passed through it.

Lin knew, before the name was even called, that it was him.

Dorin Vasilescu stepped inside like he belonged to a different space entirely.

Lin had seen his medical file--knew the numbers, the weight, the expected recovery process--but it did nothing to prepare him for the reality of him.

Tall, broad. Built with the kind of strength that felt inevitable, something carved into his body by work rather than training. His hair was longer than expected, dark waves that caught the warm light as he moved. His clothes weren't the stiff, pristine fabric Lin was used to seeing on city patients--they were meant for work, meant to be used, the sleeves pushed up carelessly, exposing forearms laced with the fine scars of someone accustomed to handling tools faster than human reflexes.

He scanned the room with easy confidence, gaze flicking from one person to the next.

Then his eyes landed on Lin.

A pause.

The weight of his gaze was slow, assessing, unreadable.

Lin knew this moment. He knew the way people's eyes moved over him, the subtle tension between what they expected to see and what they actually saw.

Still, when Dorin's brow furrowed, when his mouth tugged slightly into something questioning, Lin felt an unmistakable flicker of irritation.

Dorin's lips parted, then--

"Wait. Shouldn't this be done by a man?"

The words rolled through the space with the ease of someone who didn't think twice before speaking. The easy confidence of someone who had never questioned his own assumptions.

Lin's irritation sharpened into something steadier.

He tilted his chin, keeping his voice even. "I am a man."

A shift in the air. A small pause.

Lin had corrected people before--had seen the usual range of reactions. Embarrassment, apologies, hasty recoveries.

Dorin did none of those things.

Instead, something in his expression changed--not quite disbelief, not quite amusement. More like... consideration.

Then, finally, a smirk.

"Sure you are, doctor"