The Waiting Room Object Show の小説・ストーリー

I guess that's one of those things I don't understand, and Alice is the same way . The elevator dinged open on the fourth and fifth floor and we followed the woman who guided us into a spacious, luxurious looking waiting room. The entire wall of this room is covered by thick red velvet. I sat down on one of the dark green couches while Nick wheeled the twins' stroller around the room as both looked interested in the interior of the room. Luckily there was no one else in this spacious waiting area.

I'd rather know then be given the element of surprise, where I never gave myself time to prepare. In this wait of mine, I hold on to all hope I have in me, to not surround myself with doubt and believe that one day, shall come. The opening of the front door, has me perking up to look towards the living room entrance, awaiting him to pass by. His footsteps sound along the tiled floor, nearing to the living room until I see him about to pass the living room and head towards the stairs. Before I can say anything, I notice him stop in his tracks and turn his head to look towards me.

I lingered on the Omega floor of the Pack House, waiting outside the guest room that Aliana had had been moved into. My back pressed against the cold hard stone, but I barely felt it. My whole being was centred on that doorway, my eyes fixed on every person that walked past it. I bit my lip. Stars, I hated waiting. My watch shift was making my eyes bleary. ‘Seen anything yet?’ Ares minlinked to me. ‘No, nothing yet.’ I shifted my weight. Tucked away behind a curtain, I had only a sliver of vision to keep me occupied. The fabric rippled slightly; I froze.

Darla’s POV The waiting room wasn’t fancy. It was just clean, quiet, and cold. With simple gray walls, a humming coffee machine, and not a single distraction. It wasn’t meant to comfort. It was meant to prepare. I sat perfectly still. No glam. No distraction. Just me in a black turtleneck, pressed pants and my hair tied back. I wasn’t here to soften anything. An assistant popped her head in. “We’re ready for you.”

Silence filled the VIP lounge at Mediterranean Hospital. Marilyn sat on the edge of one of the cream-colored sofas with both hands clasped tightly together. Naomi sat on her right, Sia on her left, and Madison occupied the single armchair near the window with her tablet resting on her lap. The room was beautiful in a way that felt almost insulting to Marilyn’s fear. Soft lighting, expensive furniture, fresh flowers on a glass table, and a private coffee station in one corner. Everything looked calm, elegant, and controlled.

She said nothing, but when she saw the console was still open she didn’t move toward it. She found a seat near the wall. And sat. The system logged it without instruction: :: USER COUNT: 26 :: ROOM STATUS: STABLE / UNALTERED :: COMMENT: NO RETURN PROMISED. BUT SPACE STILL BEHAVING LIKE SHE MIGHT. A new line blinked in the behavioral feed: :: PRESERVATION WITHOUT COMMAND :: CLASSIFY: VOLUNTARY ENVIRONMENTAL HOLD :: COMMENT: **NO ONE IS ASKING IF SHE’S COMING BACK. THEY’RE JUST waiting like it matters.

My eyes travelled to the signage on the room’s door. Room Number: 401 Patient’s Name: Zion Watts

Grace pov I sat in the waiting room of Dr. Evelyn Winters' office, Lucas dozing in his carrier beside me. The office was unlike any medical facility I had visited before—more reminiscent of a cozy living room than a sterile doctor's practice. Soft lighting, comfortable seating, and walls painted in calming earth tones created an atmosphere of tranquility. A subtle scent of cedar and sage permeated the air, pleasant to human senses but particularly comforting to werewolf patients with their heightened olfactory sensitivity.

He keeps his eyes on me until the very last second, until the doors close between us. And then he’s gone. ----- **7:30 AM - Waiting Room** The surgical waiting room is designed to be calming—soft colors, comfortable chairs, quiet music playing. It doesn’t work. Nothing could make this bearable. Catherine is knitting, her hands moving in a steady rhythm even though I can see tears on her cheeks. James is reading a book he’s been on the same page for twenty minutes. Sarah is pacing. Rebecca is on her phone, probably distracting herself with work emails.

"I'm his partner." She nodded. "Have a seat. The doctor will be out soon." I sat down. The waiting room was cold. White walls. Fluorescent lights. The smell of antiseptic. A woman was crying in the corner. An old man was reading a magazine. A child was sleeping on his mother's lap. Normal life. Happening right in front of me. But my world had stopped. My phone buzzed. Maya. How's practice? I stared at the screen. My hands were shaking.