Alice's mind was racing, trying to process the revelation and figure out if he had already discovered that she knew. Her fingers fumbled with the stethoscope, the familiar medical instrument suddenly feeling foreign in her hands. She hadn't even remembered what she was supposed to be doing, her focus completely consumed by the shock of his words. Could he have seen through her carefully constructed facade? Had he always known? Was this a test?
Acting as calm as she could she spoke up
"Okay Mr lance it time for me to check your vitals . I have to make sure there are no complications."
Seeing him nod slightly she went ahead to do her task.
His gaze, sharp and observant, seemed to penetrate her facade, catching her in her moment of vulnerability. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, a betraying blush that she couldn't control. She forced herself to focus, pulling her thoughts back to the task at hand.
With practiced ease, she placed the stethoscope on his chest, listening to the rhythmic beat of his heart. It was steady, strong, a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within her. The sound of his heartbeat, usually a comforting reassurance, now felt like a mocking reminder of her deception. She checked his temperature, his blood pressure, noting the readings on the chart. Each action felt deliberate, a way to regain control in a situation that had spiraled out of her grasp.
He didn't speak, his eyes fixed on her, his expression unreadable. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken tension. Alice knew she couldn't stay here, frozen in this awkward stalemate. She had to play it cool, act like nothing had changed .
'This is all Elena's fault , that blabbermouth assuming she hadn't told my life would have been much easier ' she thought
But even though he knew she knew who he really was he couldn't really do anything to her it's not like she told the whole world. She kept it to herself so it shouldn't warrant any kind of jail sentence right?
Lance watched Alice, his gaze unwavering as she fussed with the stethoscope, her movements jerky and unsure. The moment he'd opened his eyes and seen her standing there, a flicker of something – fear? guilt? – had crossed her face, and he'd known. She knew more than she should. It was written all over her, etched in the lines of her brow, the way her fingers fidgeted, the slight tremor in her hand as she checked his temperature.
He couldn't place the exact moment she'd learned, but it was clear she had. But what he was trying to understand was why she was acting this way. It wasn't like he was going to kill her just for knowing his identity she was clearly overreacting.
He knew she was struggling, trying to maintain her composure, to act like nothing had changed. But the facade was thin, barely holding back the storm brewing beneath the surface. He could see it in the way her eyes darted around the room, avoiding his gaze, the way she kept her lips pressed together, her breaths shallow and quick.
He wanted to tell her it was okay if she knew but he was enjoying her anxiousness and he wanted to see how long she would last trying to play this game .