Sterile
The waiting room was sterile white and had an artificial lavender scent that was trying to mask the pungent smell of adhesives. The young, pretty receptionist was sitting at her desk, doing her best to ignore the waiting patient. Emily was sitting right in front of her and couldn’t help but notice that the receptionist was perfect, everything exactly where it should be. Her straightened raven hair reached just above her cheekbones, her red lips radiated against her porcelain skin, a silver heart necklace poured out of her smooth neckline, all the while her long fingers danced majestically over the…