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Clouds of smoke engulfed his vision as he breathed out

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Clouds of smoke engulfed his vision as he breathed out. The old, infatuating scent of cigar inebriating not only his olfactory senses but also his mind, his body and his soul. Another puff and he could feel the stress rip off of him, layer by layer.

The night was a beautiful enchantress for letting the lawyer have a moment of solitude from work but an evil witch to not let him have tranquillity in his life. He could vividly remember the abstruse look on his companions face earlier this morning and the morning before that and every single time they've met in the past two days.

Although it was only once, he missed reaching back home to her telling him about what new she had learnt that day. Or what expired items were there in his house. He wouldn't name his concern as care, but he was anxious about her health- mental and physical. Her diet had decreased over the last few meals they had shared together and the lack of conversation would have surely affected her.

He rubbed his eyes, tilting his head upwards to look at the nightly expanse filled with stars and felt the air-breathing cold. Putting on his glasses again, he let his fingers type the word and stared at his laptop screen for whatever the internet could provide him about what he was after.

Amnesia.

He took another puff and learned more about the human brain than he'd ever wanted to know. He didn't realise when his search turned into a self-evaluation mania and for a short, excruciating moment he believed Youra had a tumour. That he might have one, as well. He experienced a deep concern for his brain stem until his nose was pushing against the screen and he realised how he had been leaning forward. He corrected his posture, gave his shirt a hitch and looked around.

Clearing his throat, he settled the dispute in his mind that it was because of these tricks and ticking time bombs in the human body that he hadn't chosen medicine. Because it was all just too scary. He'd rather much hand out a gun to a stranger and face it than the unpredictable nature of his own internal organs.

After minutes of debate and analysis, Jungkook could conclude that Youra was unlikely to be having a tumour. All the signs pointed to Post Traumatic Amnesia, which could resolve itself within minutes, hours, days or weeks. Months in rare cases.

Which put them solidly back at square one. The site he had been surfing through indicated that amnesia was a symptom, rather than a disease. And although he knew he couldn't be as qualified as a doctor to deal with Youra's problem, he believed Yoongi could be the one. Since his medical training had been put to use several times.

Another smoke and he bent a little forward, typing up his notes, conclusions and questions. Finally done, he took a stretch, satisfied by the cracking sound emitted from his joints and descended back inside his house, chewing a mint flavoured gum.

Downstairs, he was met with a pair of curious eyes analysing his dishevelled workspace. He could see how her eyes hadn't left the pictures he had there displayed against the wall and then she looked at him.

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