He gestures with his clipboard, leading Chanyeol from the waiting room down a hall of wooden doors with little windows. “How are you?"

"Uh, I've been better."

"Oh? What's wrong?” The nurse probably expects something he can use to update Chanyeol's medical history. “In here, please." He steps aside for Chanyeol to enter a small exam room. It's bland and tasteless, utilitarian except for the framed print of a pretty countryside on the wall with a chair he sits on.

"I'm actually not super fond of needles."

"Few people are. I’ll try to make it as quick and painless as possible.” The nurse—Kyungsoo, according to his nametag—looks over Chanyeol's records. It hasn't been updated since a visit to urgent care over a bad case of tonsillitis a couple years ago. "Has anything changed health-wise recently?" Chanyeol shakes his head. "No concerns? No new medications?" Another shake. "Great. Sit tight for just a couple minutes, and I'll be right back with the vaccines."

Chanyeol expects to hear a click as the door closes, locking him in, but he finds that he can turn the handle readily. There’s small comfort in that. He could totally leave.