Oliver Burton

He took a mental note as she talked about that hospital, he knew the place exactly, committing it to memory before the rich baritone of his voice flooded that car with the authority it so often possessed. "It is impossible to miss, I built the new wing and expanded the parking garage. I know the place." He would have to fish her full name from her at some point. At the very least he had her first name and he was certain there were not a lot of Miya's floating around Sacrosanct General Hospital, it was an unusual, pretty name that rolled off the tongue easily. He instantly knew what he was going to do, even if she had no realization of the demanding phone calls he planned to make the next day. He suspected she would have something to say about it, so he chose to remain silent. Seeing her apartment and the state it was in, confirmed they were hardly paying her a doctor's salary, upon observation only. Not that he judged a person based on where he lived, he had lived within worse. There were times he didn't have a roof over his head at all. But at the very least he could have helped her after this mess was through, after all it was the least, he could do after the attack. But perhaps, he could spread a little good in the world for someone deserving of it. Someone who dedicated a large chunk of their life in school just so they could help others deserved not to be overlooked. He could not help but wonder if maybe someone in the hospital had something against her? She was beautiful, young, and smart. Something wasn't adding up. A frown etched upon his features, people's insecurities knew no end! He needed to look into it, her buried those thought for now.

How this woman tries his very patience, defying him every chance she got. He wanted to help her, she needed it, she could barely walk let alone stand but she fights him at every turn. Her own pride was going to be her downfall and Oliver could hardly help the way he growled at her, his nutmeg hued eyes taking on that intimidating stare he so willingly used on people within the workplace and in life general. He was always so used to people submitting to him. He was every bit that alpha male in all aspects of his busy life. Miya opens her mouth and Oliver nearly growls at the fiery woman within his arms. Surely, she was not going to pick a losing fight with him like this. He had to at the very least, admire her tenacity, but she was choosing the wrong person to fight with. But she had to admit, she looked adorable as she tries to appear defiant and incredibly pouty, her peered down upon her, his face softening as he does. "Much better." He uttered probably more antagonistic than he had hoped, his rich baritones smooth and gentle now that he got his way. "This will go so much better for you if you would just let me help."

After bidding Edgar goodbye they moved toward the girls apartment, climbing up those creaking metal stairs, that hardly seemed to code. IT was concerning, the way it rusted at the center of those steps. He carefully stuck to the outskirts where he was assured the steps were at its sturdiest and the rust hadn't eaten through most of the metal. This place seemed like it was one step from being condemned.

Finally, within the somewhat safety of that her apartment she continues to try and shoo him off. He hardly budged, even with her scrutiny and she sighs almost too dramatically, finally but reluctantly accepting his help from his sheer stubbornness alone. She hardly was able to stand, and she looked like the walking dead! How could he just leave her to fend for herself where she might just pass out and die in her own blood. He was not going to let that happen.

Placing her down gently before him, her feet finally met the floor, while her own legs quivered beneath her own weight as if she were too weak to stand. He offers her that sturdy forearm, so she could use him as needed for that unmovable support, he would be right there should she lose her balance. But that nagging voice in his mind still sliced through his concern, irritation needling its way through. He would much rather her be in the hospital than in his care. But no, of course he had to contend with the most stubborn woman on this planet. But he would not back down on this, for her own wellbeing. After she was taken care of and she still wanted him to go, he would. Regardless he felt a responsibility to make sure she was going to be alright, that utter desire to protect what he deemed was his. It was a primal roaring urge that floods throughout his body, it was the animalistic need that drove him by impulse alone. It was who he was, a dominant by nature while he wasn't going to force her hand, he simply could not leave when she was suffering on her own. Even despite the incessant need to push him away, he would be only fooling himself if he said he didn't care for the mortal girl's wellbeing.

He saw her struggling, her eyes flutter closed for a moment claiming they could not turn up the temperature. What kind of place was this?? They can't even provide proper heat for their tenants? The thought truly irked him, he could feel it within his bones. It wasn't his place, he chided himself willing that protective beast within him to back down. "Okay, then we will need blankets, I am afraid you are in shock, your body needs warmth." With that matter of fact demeanor.

Oh, the glare she offers him, abrasively wears on his own patience when insists that she must sit. But eventually logic or exhaustion sets in and that fight within her seems to settle as she flops onto that waiting couch. Good, at least that was progress. Without thinking, he snatches the blanket behind her, gently draping it upon the exhausted woman. He didn't linger long before he moved with that smooth confidence into the kitchen where she directed, his gaze scanning the room, less out of judgement and more out of the desire to help her. A person should not be living like this, in a place where she could not even raise the bloody temperature! But now was not time to argue such things, it was not his place to simply storm her home and change a single thing within it.

The kit or so he hoped, was sitting upon the nearly barren countertop. But he skipped passed it so he could fill up that kettle with water, he all but fumbled through the kitchen awkwardly. This was not his forte. It had been a long time since her took care of someone. This felt new to him and it was ever apparent as he nearly knocked a mug off the countertop. It is just tea, he reminded himself, not rocket science. He was at least able to get the kettle going before grabbing the medical kit from its spot, entering the living room, raising the bag as if looking for confirmation that this was indeed correct.

The reality was, she could have been free of him should she just have gone to the hospital to begin with. But trying to speak his logic to the petite woman was trying to turn water into sand. She claimed he was bossy and while he couldn't argue with her, he still countered her, far more gentle than his normally brusque voice and hardened features. "...and you are awfully stubborn." He added.

She brings her hand to her head, winces and says they need to wash the blood from her, as he moved back into the room with her exactly where he last left her, medical bag in tow. That reveal he had not seen coming at all. "There is only one way to do this.. But it might feel a bit awkward... for you." He admits near casually, but there was only one way to ensure she wasn't going to fall in the shower and injure herself more.

That fierce blush then bloomed across her cheeks as she offered the knowledge and the sight of her own blood. A rare, slow blooming smile spreads across his lips before a chuckle escaped him. "Now I have seen it all.. A doctor who cannot stand the sight of their own blood." He mused softly then, that near teasing smile lingering. "The sight of blood doesn't bother me, I can help with that part." That surprise at her asking for help still lingered within the back of his own mind, perhaps there was still hope for her yet. His softened nutmeg hued eyes studying her silently as she avoids eye contact.

"Save your defiance for not passing out, doctor. Now show me to your bathroom, we can treat you there. Maybe then, I will allow you to direct me with your wounds. I am afraid I am only used to treating myself." Perhaps he said too much, but he doesn't expand as he offers her a hand to help her up, still holding onto that, clasped firmly in his other hand medical bag.

Once inside the confines of that small, unpretentious bathroom, he mulled over his options. "I am afraid I need to go into the shower with you to make sure you do not fall. You can keep your clothes on, if it makes you feel more comfortable, I will not look. I give you my word." He inquires so very suddenly, he wasn't quite sure how she would feel about nudity in general, being were, he hardly paid it a second thought. He was quite confident in his human flesh, but mortals seemed to possess differences in opinion. His eyes peer down at her, wondering what choice words would find her then or perhaps she had a better idea lurking in that busy mind of hers.