The last time I donated blood, the nurse missed my vein.
Let's just say, things got messy quickly and not in a nice way. She was sincerely apologetic and urged me to return in a few days to try again. She had kind eyes, and a cheeky smile. I would be booking another appointment just to see her again..
Scrolling times for the afternoon on my phone:
"CONFIRMED!"
The text message screams back at me.
I make my way to the donation center.
A little apprehensive, because although I'm heavily tattooed, I still don't love a needle - and last time, the missed vein caused some issues!
Sitting here patiently waiting for my name to be called. Nurses walk past me, humming. This place makes me happy. The music is always up beat. The smell of antiseptic fills the air. Lazing back on the couches I find myself watching her carefully. The same nurse I saw only a few days prior. A black bow in her hair and a small gold chain around her neck.
She has those deep eyes that smile.
The way she interacts with others makes my heart throb. How gentle and kind, yet with a sense of dominance. I think to myself; "She's so kind here; what's she like after hours?"
Surely her outlet after hours is way more dramatic than most other professions. In my mind I see her taking control of any situation. Holding that safety of being a Nurse over someones head, just to create that illusion of care, before aggressively strapping you to a bed and fucking you so hard you're screaming for more and sore for days.
I shake my thoughts and come back to reality.
I can hear her asking the usual questions to others, before moving over to me.
She calls my name. "Rebecca?" I spring out of the chair in the waiting room and move over to the room she has directed me to. She introduces herself.
"Hey Rebecca, I'm Chloe and I'll be your nurse this afternoon... Actually, I remember you from the other day! Hopefully today I can find what I'm looking for.." she says with a cheeky smile.
We rush the formalities and get to the blood pressure test. The way she moves my sleeve up sends shivers. She's delicate, however precise.
She mentions my blood pressure is a little higher than usual. I joke that it maybe it was the way she touched me, excited me.
She giggles shyly.
The arm band is pulled off and she asks me to move over to the donation chairs. She pushes one of the blood machines over next to me and asks me to take a seat. It's a big comfy chair that let's me lay back and look over the rest of the clinic.
The needle and tape are organized and she assures me it will only pinch for a second. Blood runs through the tiny tube and into the machine.
She connects the cords and tubes and reminds me to relax.
Taking a big breath in, I settle into the reclining chair for the next few minutes.
Chloe moves off to tend to the other donors, bringing them snacks and adjusting their chairs.
Shortly after she has done the rounds, I watch her float back over to me.
Brushing up against my thighs with her hand, she asks me if I'd like a drink.
'Water, please."
I mumble, still feeling her hand on my thigh. She nods and walks off.
I'm tingling at the thought of her.
