A/N: Professor Maka requested SoMa med students, and while this sorta veered away from that, it kinda sorta fits the request! I tried to stick with what I at least knew something about.
He was absolutely insufferable.
Maka huffed and flattened her pencil skirt further on her legs. That new intern, the boy who had been accepted to shadow Dr. Stein, had submitted a wonderful application that she had looked over personally. He had already been accepted into optometry school for the upcoming term, he seemed to have a deep knowledge of various eye ailments and treatments, and his schedule was flexible to suit Dr. Stein's. On top of that, he was an Evans. Even Maka knew that name; he was the son of an affluent family that ran a group of hospitals in the area.
It was no surprise that an Evans boy was going into a medical field. Still, though. Soul Evans was not what Maka had expected. Her lips pursed into a tight line as he emerged from the exam room conversing with Dr. Stein. Anyone else would likely never dare to show up to shadowing dressed in some ratty jeans and a leather jacket, much less with their hair gelled and an eternally bored expression plastered on their face, but, Maka thought with chagrin, perhaps that was why he had chosen Dr. Stein's office for his shadowing in the first place. The good doctor was brilliant at whatever he attempted, but there was something decidedly off about him. He certainly wasn't the type of mentor that an Evans would seek as their first choice.
His attitude was terrible; Dr. Stein had to step out for a moment earlier in the day and had asked Soul to look after any walk-in patients. The result was shocking to Maka. A young woman wearing an eyepatch had come to have the swelling of her eyelid looked into, and Soul did nothing less than outright scowl at her until she flipped the fabric up. The young lady had been in before to have her eyes looked at, and Maka looked through her files until she found the right patient: Marie Mjollnir. Even from her desk at reception Maka could see that she was in pain every time she blinked, her upper lid red and inflamed, but Soul did not seem particularly interested in her discomfort.
"Put a hot compress on it for twenty minutes at a time around three times a day," he had grumbled, flipping the eyepatch back down. "You've got a nasty stye on your top eyelid, but they tend to go away on their own, and heat will accelerate that." The woman flinched when the fabric snapped back into place, and Maka noticed Soul's stoic expression flicker for a moment. "It might ooze a bit when it comes to a head, but that's normal. It should rupture on its own. Don't try to pop it, that could make it worse."
Marie nodded, wincing a bit, and spoke. "Um, is Dr. Stein in?" she asked quietly, leaning around him to look around. "I've been here before about this same issue, and it keeps happening. Last time he said that if it didn't get better I should come back and we'd talk about a preventative treatment option, so–"
"The doc isn't here right now," sighed Soul. "If this is a regular problem, it's probably a result of the occular rosacea you've got going on. It doesn't seem to be affecting you anywhere else, which is good, but if you don't mind waiting around I'm sure Stein will end up giving you some ointment. Rub it along your eyelash lines twice a day and you should notice the styes occurring less frequently and a drop in the redness along your eyes." He stood up and gestured towards Maka's spot at the receptionist desk. "If you have some other stuff to do, you should probably just make an appointment for when the doc is in."
With that, he had retreated back in to the examination room, leaving Maka to apologize to the flushed and confused Marie.
Even so, he was intriguing.
Soul was obviously smart. This was his third day of shadowing Dr. Stein, and Maka had seen his intelligence first-hand with his quick and accurate diagnoses of patients. He could easily start his own practice after optometry school; not only was he smart, but he had the name of Evans to back him up. There was no way he would fail. Even so, Maka got the distinct feeling that he did not want to be where he was, brilliant as he may be, and she could not help but wonder what pressure he must be under to enter some branch of the medical field.
Then there were his eyes.
They were strange. His eyes were the color of rich mahogany, but when the light struck them from just the right angle, they seemed to be decidedly more red than brown. They did not seem to shine, perhaps a byproduct of the dark circles that left him looking eternally tired, but there was still a thrilling depth to them.
It was as she was looking into those strange eyes, while the two of them gathered their belongings to go home for the day, that Maka blurted out, "Would you like to get something to eat?" Some curiosity, deep and burning, had overcome her, and Maka's hand flew up to cover her mouth. What was she doing, asking out an Evans?
He looked startled at first, eyes widening and brows knitting together, but that melted into a lopsided and toothy grin, endearing in its own way, and he replied, "Sure. You'll probably be more interesting to talk with over food than my family either way." His fingers grabbed the handles of her tote, slinging it over his shoulder, and he strode over to the door and looked expectantly over his shoulder with a slight smile.
There was something that she couldn't put her finger on about him, this strange boy with the mahogany eyes, but Maka could not help but smile at his response, and she breathed out, "Cool."