݁❀₊lia⋆𐙚 ˖°

It seems like every single university student has had the same idea of deciding to reduce their carbon footprint today, with everyone cramped in the same bus that you are in.

After a few “excuse me's”, you find refuge in a less crowded area and lean against the wall whilst you wait for the bus to get to your stop.

With the automated voice announcing your stop, a large chunk of the crowd gets off and you finally have enough personal space for the first time in twenty minutes.

You step down the steps, with your phone in hand whilst you follow the online map on your phone. The next instruction from your phone's map is to cross the road and like the law abiding citizen you are, you wait at the pedestrian crossing until the little man at the traffic light turns green.

With the sound of loud beeping filling the street, you walk towards the opposite side of the crossing. The map orientates itself whilst you change direction and another loud, blaring sound fills your ears.

Looking up to the cause of the sound, a speedy white car drives towards you. Running towards safety, you check the little man at the crossing, only to see that he is happily glowing green without a care in the world.

So much for a good start to the first day of university.

Walking up to the entrance, your eyes scan the building walls for a sign showing all the information about the rooms in the building. But just as lady luck would have it, nothing of said sign is found.

With loud conversations coming at you from left and right and your patience running thin, you decide to spare yourself more pain and walk up to the nearest person, praying silently that they know where your room is.

“Excuse me?” You tap the shoulder of a tall, black haired student. “Do you know where lecture hall C5 is?”

“Sorry, do you mind repeating that? It’s hard to hear what you’re saying over all this noise.” He asks, bringing his ear closer to you.

“Do you know where lecture hall C5 is?” You repeat, making your voice louder.

“It’s on the fifth floor, get on the lift, take a left and you should get there.” The man points to a set of grey, shiny doors and you quickly thank him before running off into the lift.

The lift stops at the fifth floor after picking up and dropping off people at every single floor and as soon as the doors open, you squeeze past others on the lift, mumbling a few apologies before dashing to the left to get to your room.

Doors are plastered with signs that all begin with E, but no C5. You do a quick 360 degree spin, only to be met with more rooms that are also E. Checking the time on your watch, you feel your heart sink knowing that the lecture has officially started.

There goes your chance at making a good first impression, you will forever be known as the student who was late on the first day. You sigh and walk back to the lift doors.

Your eyes wander and you find yourself finally looking at the information board. Level 3: lecture halls C1 to C31. Better late than never.

Heart pounding, you slowly open the door in an attempt to not draw attention to yourself but it betrays you, making a loud squeaking sound that proudly announces your presence. Bracing yourself for an embarrassing conversation with the professor in front of the whole class, you anxiously hold your breath.

But the professor says nothing, only staring at you with their eyebrow raised at your terrible punctuality before continuing on about something to do with what textbooks they recommend borrowing from the library.

Your eyes search the area for a free seat, finding one at the opposite end of the row that you're standing next to. “Excuse me, sorry, can I get through please?” You quietly ask, feeling the embarrassment wash over you.

The person looks up to face you, and all embarrassment is quickly replaced with anger. It’s the guy who gave the wrong directions to this room.

He shakes his head, frowning at you before grabbing his backpack to make space for you to squeeze through the little space for you to get to the free seat at the end of the row.

What kind of ass of a person gives someone the wrong directions and proceeds to act cocky?

Making it to the end of the row, you sit down on the free chair with a growing feeling that you found someone to keep an eye out for.

The hour quickly ends, filled with what to expect during the upcoming academic year, to who you can go to if you need any extra support. Everyone makes a beeline for the exit, eager to make friends on the first day.

But you? You follow the person who has ruined the first impression that the professor has of you.

Petty? Without a doubt. But extremely necessary.

“Excuse me?” You tap the shoulder of a familiar black buttoned up man who turns around. “I understand medical school is competitive and all, but don't you think it's completely unnecessary to purposely lead a fellow medical student to the wrong room on the very first day?”

“I'm sorry, but were you not the person who asked a fellow student for directions? Don't you think you should have asked a receptionist or at least have better observational skills on an important day like this? Maybe then, you wouldn't have needed to ask me in such a crowded corridor and misheard me.” He sighs.

“It might be difficult for you to believe, but I am not the type of person who would purposely sabotage someone else over a matter like this.” Despite this being your second conversation with him, you tell that he was being genuine.

But you’re too far deep into hating him. “Well then,” You glance at the name tag stuck on his chest.

“Zayne Li. Why did you shake your head at me when I came in late?” You cross your arms over your chest. “How am I meant to believe you? This is our second conversation after all. How are you going to prove it?”

“I had a neck cramp. But if you don't believe me, then that's on you. I know that I’m right and somewhere deep down, you know it too. Now if you will excuse me, I have somewhere to be.” He says, adjusting his backpack straps and makes his way to the exit.

“Does anyone have any questions?” The professor asks, pulling the microphone away from her mouth but not quick enough for a quiet sigh to reach the speakers.

The rest of the class groan and some place their heads on the desks, as they prepare themselves to stay back for an extra ten minutes.

Your hand shoots up quickly and you try to find a certain someone’s hand somewhere in the large crowd of people. The professor gestures for you to ask first. “Do you have any extra resources that you recommend for extra reading?”

“Yes, it will be attached to the email when I send out next week’s readings.” She says and points to Zayne.

“Do you know of any recent research papers that I could look through?”

“I will email them to you separately.” The professor sits down on the chair, making it very obvious that she is going to have an incoming headache.

You raise your hand. “Yes Y/n, I will email you the same thing.” You meekly lower your hand.

“Do you have any more questions?”

“Will there be an opportunity for extra credit?” Zayne asks, and the professor shakes her head and dismisses everyone in the lecture hall.

You grab your bag and find Simone and Tara in the swarm of people, making your way to the exit of the hall. “I don’t understand, why does he keep trying to one-up me?” Tara pats your shoulder comfortingly and Simone just sighs.

“Did I just hear you say that you didn't understand something, L/n?” Zayne approaches you with what seems to be amusement.

The stupid expression on his face is practically begging for you to slap it right off.

“What on earth do you want, Li?” You look at him, clearly annoyed. “Why are you even here in the first place? Don't you have to be in the library or something?”

“I do actually, why? Are you that interested in me to the point where you know my schedule down to the second?” He replies, clearly amused at your expression.

“Bold of you to assume that I would pay that much interest towards you.” You scoff. “I just know that your antisocial ass willingly locks yourself in the library until the librarian kicks you out of the building.”

“Glad to know that I spend more time studying than you. Clearly, I know where my priorities lie.” Zayne replies.

“That's because you study inefficiently. A lecture that would take you four hours would take me less than half the amount of time to learn. Besides, I actually have a life outside studying. Speaking of which,” You check your phone for the time. “we have to go to make the lunch reservation we made!” Tara and Simone look at you wide eyed, completely forgetting about your shared lunch plans.

Zayne stares as you quickly forget about him, walking away with Simone and Tara chatting about the restaurant’s new seasonal menu.

You sit in the massive lecture hall, your laptop sitting on the desk, bright as a flashlight in order to keep yourself from falling asleep in the lecture. Tara sits on your left, shopping online for crystals and tarot cards whilst Simone somehow plays a random RPG game with the volume muted.

“We have a simulated case to end this lecture.” Your ears perk up. “Patient is a female, two years old and has been diagnosed with ADHD and has come in with her parents over concerns of a deviated eye. What test would you do after a case history is done?”

You raise your hand without any hesitation, keen to be the first one to get the answer right. The professor points towards you. “You would do a cover test first.”

“Yes, you could do a cover test first. Is there anyone else with another answer?” Your professor asks the rest of the class whilst you tilt your head in confusion. What other test would you do first apart from cover test?

“You could test their visual acuity.” You hear a familiar voice that never fails to get your blood pressure rising.

“Yes, you could do a visual acuity test first, Zayne.” You shake your head in disbelief. “Y/n, can you explain why you believe that a cover test should be done first?”

You clear your throat, “The results from the cover test would help confirm if the patient actually has a deviated eye or if it could be pseudostrabismus. In the case that the patient did have a deviated eye, it may help with expectations about what their visual acuity could be.”

Your professor nods, her hair bouncing as her head moves. “Zayne? What do you think?”

“Doing a visual acuity test can help with predictions about what you are roughly able to expect in a cover test, predicting which eye is the non-fixing eye. The patient has ADHD and is young, so it may be more beneficial to do the visual acuity test whilst they are cooperative.” Your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“Do you have any counterpoints to Zayne's point, Y/n?” You nod, smiley politely in response before staring down the insane maniac across the lecture hall who thinks doing a visual acuity test should be done first.

“It is imperative that you understand if the patient truly has a deviation.” You cross your arms over your chest.

You take a deep breath in, trying to not let Zayne's foolish and idiotic words get the best of you. “If the patient does lose focus and cooperation, you will be able to get a vague estimation of their visual acuity using a photoscreener.”

From across the hall, you notice him pinch the bridge of his nose in annoyance. It only makes you straighten your shoulders proudly in victory.

“Alright. I can tell that you are both very passionate about this, however if you do want to continue this, please do so in your spare time. The varied answers suggest that you can do either of the tests first, as long as you have the evidence to back up your point. That ends this lecture today everyone, I will see you next week.”

You shove your laptop into your bag completely leaving behind Simone and Tara, keen on finding the man who enjoys sending you into an academic rage. He stands outside the door to the lecture hall, absentmindedly checking the time on his watch.

“So as a practitioner, you would do the visual acuity test first. Interesting. Definitely a unique way of doing an appointment with a patient.” You say, and he looks up from his shiny watch.

“I didn't explicitly say I would do the visual acuity test first— I was simply answering the professor's question. But if we are assuming that I would do a visual acuity test over a cover test, then yes, I do see the benefits. Using the photoscreener can only get you so far, as it is a vague estimation meaning that the results it produces will not be one hundred percent correct. Just like you mentioned earlier.”

Motherfucker is putting the words into my mouth.

“Why get a vague estimation when you can get reliable results?”

“As long as you get both of the tests done before any other test and the results recorded, nobody is going to ask you which one you decided to do first!” You hear a familiar rushed voice and turning around, you see Tara and Simone who look like they could use a week long holiday.

“Now come on, Y/n! We have another lecture to get to in ten minutes!” Tara says whilst Simone gets a hold of your arm, ready to drag you around campus herself if needed.

“Okay, let me just say one more thing and then we can go.” Tara and Simone look at each other hesitantly before nodding. “Why do you enjoy making my academic life hell?” You ask, causing Zayne to press his lips together.

“Because you enjoy doing the same.” He replies ever so nonchalantly, as if it was the most obvious statement in the world.

Unfortunately, you cannot fathom the fact that he is correct for once, so you bite your tongue whilst Simone proceeds to grab onto your arm and drag you like a doll to the next lecture.

The sound of people discussing their test scores fills the room, with some celebrating and other sighing in their seats. Your hands become damp with sweat and you rub them against the material of your trousers underneath the table.

The professor hands you your test, a smile graced on her face. “Well done, Y/n. You should be very proud of yourself.”

“Thank you.” You take the test sheet, looking at the circled 99% at the top of the paper. She walks off, handing the next test to Zayne.

He smiles at her and his warm smile turns dark as he makes eye contact with you. It's filled with nothing but sarcasm and potential to scar an innocent child.

“If you haven't noticed, I gave out the tests from lowest to highest. If anyone has any questions, you can come to my office during office hours or email me. Enjoy your weekend, see you next Monday.” You sit in your seat, staring at the test sheet in denial.

How on earth did you manage to lose to Zayne? By one point?

Sighing, you fold your sheet into half before shoving it into your pocket and heading out the door as inconspicuously as possible.

“L/n.” You roll your eyes, recognising the pride in Zayne's voice instantly. “Getting 98 is an amazing score. You should be very proud of yourself.”

98? Turning around to face his smug face, you quickly glance at the sheet Zayne holds in his hand. 99.

“Actually, I got a 99. I didn't get a 98, Li.” You point to his sheet. “You got a 99 too. You should be very proud of yourself, what a great achievement!” You clasp your hands together, applauding for him.

The smug look on his face disappears, only to be replaced with a feeling you believe to be annoyance. “I see. We both got the highest score on the exam then. What question did you get wrong?” Flicking through the pages, you find the question marked wrong and show him.

“If a patient has nasal corneal reflections, they…” He reads, scanning the paper. “Do not have an esotropia.” He looks up. “They have an exotropia, obviously.”

“Obviously.” You reply, looking over to the side. “I just misread the answers. Now, show me your answers.”

Zayne hands you his paper and you grin when you find the question marked wrong. “Protanopia is caused by not enough energy being transduced or the complete absence of which cone pigment? You answered: M cones.” You laugh, covering it up as a bad cough.

“The answer is L cones. I just also happened to misread the answers too. I believe your mistake was much worse than mine. If a child with a limited attention span only let you do corneal reflections on them and you say they have an esotropia instead of an exotropia, it could cause confusion for other healthcare workers who will see their notes.”

“Yes, of course. If you order the wrong colour correcting glasses for a patient— imagine the distress on their face when they realise their doctor has made a mistake and they have to wait even longer to see full colour vision. Absolutely terrible.” Zayne sighs, taking back his test paper.

“Good thing we are still students, right?” You plaster a fake smile on your face. “We have so much to learn before treating our lovely patients, don't we?”

“Welcome to Akso Hospital!” A grey haired man says cheerfully, a smile adorned on his face.

“I understand that you may have many questions and your consultants will be able to explain without even breaking a sweat.” He chuckles and points to a group of senior doctors standing in front of you.

“When you arrived this morning, you were allocated a number and are now separated into groups. Each group represents a certain speciality, such as psychiatrists, dermatologists and so on. These are the people who you will be training with during your time at Akso, so get on their good side!” You turn around and face your fellow general surgeons, giving them a polite, friendly smile.

You make eye contact with a familiar green, hazel eyed man. Your smile immediately becomes stiff, as if your jaw has automatically clicked into place.

Zayne is in the same group as you. Zayne is going to be training with you.

A tall brown haired woman walks up to your group, smiles and introduces herself as the consultant general surgeon. “I understand that not all of you will be staying as general surgeons, as some of you will branch off into other surgical specialities after you complete your core surgical training. But I look forward to working with each and every one of you.”

You only have one year of this general surgeon training and then you go off into neurosurgery. One year is nothing.

The consultant leads the way to the shared office of all core training general surgeons, and shows important things: the uncomfortable beds you would sleep in during night shifts and the fancy coffee machine. She quickly leaves, letting everyone get to know each other.

You immediately turn around to face Zayne. “I really thought this would be a new chapter where you would not be in it. What are the chances we are both doing this core training together?” A fake smile is plastered on your face.

“Luckily, it’s only for a year since I’ll be going into neurosurgery after the training.”

“Good to know. I’ll be doing cardiac surgery after this year.” You nod, not wanting to contribute more to the extremely lacklustre conversation.

After making your rounds, you decide to spend time with the younger patients. To your surprise, Zayne is there too, busy tending to a stuffed penguin's injured wing.

You sit down on the round tea table where a little girl pours fake tea into her teacups for her plushies. “What’s your name, sweetheart? May I have some tea as well please?” She nods happily, eagerly passing you a teacup whilst introducing herself as Daisy.

You quickly learn she likes strawberries and she's very curious about being a doctor. “Dr L/n, is the brain or heart more important?”

“Well both are very important, but I think the brain is more important than the heart.” You reply and Daisy hums, going back to her teacups. Daisy gives you another teacup of tea but before your hand touches the handle, you hear footsteps making its way to the table.

You look up to the owner of the footsteps, only to see Zayne siting down at the table. “Daisy, can I tell you something?” He asks the little girl who nods in agreement. “Dr L/n is wrong about the brain being more important than the heart. I think that the heart is more important than the brain.”

What on earth is he doing?

“Really, Doctor Li? Why is the heart more important than the brain?” Daisy asks, very intrigued at this new opinion.

“The heart pumps blood to all of the important things in the body, like your lungs and your brain. If the heart doesn't pump your blood to the important places in your body, you’re going to get very tired very quickly.” Zayne says with a smile, specifically targeted at you.

If he wants to play this game, then I’ll fucking play along.

“Then Dr L/n, why do you think that the brain is more important than the heart?” Daisy looks up at you, completely unaware of this emotional tug-of-war she unintentionally created.

“Your brain is very smart Daisy! Your brain is always telling your heart to keep on pumping the blood to the rest of your body so you can stay healthy and strong.” You say, a smile plastered on your face as you look at Zayne.

“Your heart helps you show all the love you have for your friends and family. Do you feel happy when you give friends hugs?” Zayne asks, and Daisy agrees. “It’s your heart that tells you to be happy when you give your friends hugs.”

So he is playing the emotional card. Two can play at this game, Li.

“Daisy?” You call out her name and she averts her gaze to you. “Can you tell me about a fun day you had with your friends?”

“When me and my friends went to the park and we played at the playground all day!” She smiles happily.

“Well sweetheart, your brain remembers all the happy memories you have had with your friends. So whenever you feel sad, you can think about the fun day you had at the park and you will be happy again.” You say and Daisy runs off to find one of her friends.

“I guess the brain is more important than the heart.” You smirk at Zayne and stand up behind the tiny chair, ready to grab a coffee.

“Well if the brain stopped working and the heart kept pumping, at least you would still be alive.” Zayne replies casually, tucking his chair under the table.

“Alive, sure. But living like a normal person? No way in hell.” You say in a hushed tone, not trying to attract attention from the ever-so curious children in the room. “What would you do if you had no brain? You wouldn’t be able to learn about your silly little heart if you didn’t have anywhere to apply the knowledge to in the first place.”

“Well for someone who surely advocates for the brain, you clearly don’t use it enough. Whilst you were doing rounds earlier today, I overheard the consultant asking you why you forgot to bring a notepad along with you. How embarrassing.” He chuckles and you scowl at him.

Just as you were going to answer back, you notice Greyson and Yvonne, two of your fellow surgeons approach you and Zayne.

“Okay that’s enough arguing for the day. The kids are staring.” Yvonne holds your arm, leads you away from Zayne and into the office to calm down.

You sit near the nurses’ station, a cup of coffee nearby as you read the medical history of your next patient arriving in twenty minutes. The atmosphere is peaceful, the nurses are typing away on their keyboards and the sound of baby sensory videos can be heard from the waiting area.

As you bring the cup of coffee up to your lips, a loud voice interrupts the peace. “What do you mean I cannot donate my liver?” You turn around to check where the voice is coming from and see the sign that has Zayne’s name on it.

Muffled speech can be heard from Zayne, most likely trying to calm down an angry family member. The sound of a hand aggressively hitting the desk resonates throughout the floor, causing even the focused children to peel their eyes away from their dancing fruit videos.

The handle of the door opens, revealing a middle aged man who is far from happy. He makes his way over to the nurses station. “Get me another fucking doctor. This guy doesn't know shit. You doctors keep going on about how difficult it is to find a donor that matches but when a matching person comes along, it’s not possible to donate?” The nurses desperately try to calm him down, explaining to him that this is not the place for explicit language.

“Do I look like I’m playing around? I want another doctor!”

“Excuse me sir, what seems to be the problem?” Getting out of your seat, you make your way over to the nurses’ station, gripping onto your white coat like a lifeline.

“This guy told me I couldn't donate my liver to my sister who is on her deathbed!” He angrily points at Zayne who says nothing. “Please doctor, I just want to help her. Tell me I can donate my liver to her.” He pleads, his countenance softening ever so slightly.

“Is there a specific reason he can’t donate his liver?” You look at Zayne.

“He has a liver with a fifteen percent fat content. I have explained to him that the limit is ten percent, as any more can put the recipient at more risk.” Zayne sighs and you frown, immediately knowing that nothing can be done.

“I’m sorry sir, but Doctor Li is right. You may be able to donate in the future but you will have to decrease the fat content through lifestyle choices such as exercise, a balanced diet and refraining from alcohol.”

“All you doctors sound like a broken record! I thought this was the best hospital in the city and you can’t accept my liver? Fucking bullshit.” Over his shoulder, the security comes over and harshly grabs him.

“Let me go!” He tries escaping, only to be pulled away. “Just wait until my lawyer hears about this. I will sue this hospital so badly that the only medicine you will give is paracetamol!” The man shouts even louder until he’s no longer in sight.

You look at Zayne who sighs for the nth time today. “Penny for your thoughts?” He seems like he could need a helping hand, just this once.

“I just find it hard to empathise with people who behave in that manner. I understand that I am fortunate to have not been in a position like that in the past, but when a doctor tells you there is no loophole or way to work around it, isn't it time to face the truth?”

“Well, I think you’re looking at it from a medical personnel perspective. You're trying to face the problem as someone who is only able to give proper solutions. But have you tried facing the problem as someone who could lose a precious family member? You saw the way he softened when he mentioned how all he wanted to do was to help his sister. He just wants to do the best he can.”

“You’re right. Thank you.” Zayne concedes.

“It’s time for my next appointment. See you around.” You nod your head as a goodbye, walking off to your consultation room.

You close the door, setting up your desk for the next patient, trying to make it look presentable after rummaging through the mismatched files when a senior doctor requested an extra copy to read through before surgery.

With all the papers finally stacked into neat piles and tucked away into a corner to worry about later, the door opens with one of the nurses asking if you are ready.

You clear your throat and nod, bringing up the results of the patient as they come in. “Hello, Doctor L/n. It’s nice to see you again.” You look up and smile, making sure that Oliver feels comfortable in the chair.

“How have you been?” You ask, placing your hands on the desk.

“I've been doing well. I have been consistently taking my medication and I try my best to eat and sleep well.”

“That's great news to hear!” You reply, looking at the results on the computer in front of you. “The results from last week's blood results look great too, so there should be nothing to worry about. Do you have any questions for me?”

“I'm quite nervous. Like a kidney transplant is a big thing. I know I'll be in safe hands and all, but I just can't help but feel this sense of anxiety.” Oliver rubs his hands together nervously.

“It is not a minor surgery, that I can tell you with certainty. I can't confirm that everything will go smoothly since surgery is unpredictable but I will be in the room, assisting in the surgery and I will do my absolute best. The road to recovery may not be easy, but once you have fully recovered, the freedom will be like nothing else you have ever felt before.”

“Thank you, Doctor L/n. I trust you.” The words make your heart swell with a strange mix of pride and sadness.

Oliver is the same age as you and it feels like a sick twist of fate knowing that he has endured so much pain yet still does his best to carry on. If you were in the same situation as him, you wouldn't be half as calm and collected as he is.

He constantly brings sweet treats for the staff, ranging from brownies to cupcakes despite it being prohibited to accept any type of gifts from patients. No matter how hard you try to politely decline, Oliver refuses to take no for answer and threatens to stay longer at the hospital.

How could you make a man who spends almost all of his time at the hospital stay even longer? It's pretty unfair to say to other patients that you have favourites, but Oliver is definitely one of them.

“I will do my best to ensure that you trust in me never wavers.” You put on a smile, trying to stay professional despite the feeling of melancholy bloom.

“Considering that the test results look good, there should be no reason to push back the surgery. I will get the paperwork done and ensure that you are admitted for surgery next Monday. Of course, if you have any questions, please feel free to reach out to me or any member of staff.”

Finishing the last consultation of the shift, you close the door behind you and make your way to the shared office, only to see your fellow surgeons crowded near the door.

“Why are you guys all crowded around the door like chipmunks?” They all turn around, facing you as if they have just seen a ghost.

“You scared us! We thought you were someone important, you know, like the hospital director.”

“Geez, that’s nice to know. But you still haven't answered my question.”

“Zayne is listening to what the consultant has to say after the whole liver transplant thing from today.” Greyson says, and you peep through the small window to see him nodding as the consultant continues to talk.

“I need to go in.” You announce to the group whilst they stare at you like you have suggested to do surgery blindfolded.

“No way. Do you want to get yourself into trouble too?” They crowd around the handle of the door, preventing you from going in.

“I was there whilst it happened. Not for the whole thing, but I was the one the patient talked to after they requested another doctor to talk to. I need to hear what the consultant has to say, it’s not just his fault— it’s mine too.” One by one, the group hesitantly disperses.

You knock on the door. “Who is it?” The consultant asks, not taking her eyes off of Zayne.

“It’s Y/n. Can I come in, please?” The door opens in front of you. Zayne stares like a baby deer in headlights whilst you stand opposite the consultant.

“From what I’ve heard, you were also there whilst the patient’s outburst occurred. Can you tell me things from your side of the story?”

You give your side of the story, starting with the shouting in Zayne's room and ending with the threat of suing the hospital, with paracetamol being the only thing that could be administered to patients.

“Well, at least your stories match.” She sighs.

“Wait, before whatever punishment you give us, can I just say something?” You ask and she nods.

“I understand that the patient’s sibling has every right to be frustrated. But it doesn't excuse the fact that he was incredibly rude. Not just to us, but to the other staff too.”

“I’m not mad, you two. You did everything right. You handled it as well as you could have done. Personally, I don't think there should be any consequences. It’s only your second month working in this massive hospital after all. But tensions were high and many patients were scared of what could have happened next. Higher ups have received complaints. There’s a disciplinary meeting scheduled for tonight. I’ll be there as support. I won't let anything bad happen.”

“Thank you, Doctor Zhou.” Zayne says and you thank her too as she leaves the room. “You didn't need to come in, L/n.”

“I know, but it helps clear things up.” You fiddle with the sleeve of your scrubs.

“I could have handled it fine myself but thank you. For everything you’ve done today. You really didn't need to.” He coughs, an awkward air rising in the room.

“Of course. Just because we have some history doesn't mean we can't look out for each other, especially in moments like these.” You smile sheepishly.

The atmosphere becomes even more awkward, this feeling being uncharted territory between you and Zayne.

“Besides, suing the hospital is bad for both of us. I don't think I want to feel the wrath of patients when I tell them they can have paracetamol as their only form of pain relief.” You laugh, trying to deflect this weird feeling in your heart.

Walking out of the conference room, Doctor Zhou catches up with you. “How are you taking the news?”

“It’s a lot better than I thought it would be. Luckily the mandatory seminar about dealing with patient behaviour is only two hours and there’s no pay cut.”

“At least you managed to find the silver lining.” Doctor Zhou chuckles and excuses herself after getting a phone call.

“What about the mandatory shifts for next week?” Zayne asks, and you wince in response.

“Yeah, I’m not looking forward to that. Might resort to downing just coffee powder.” You grimace, imagining yourself with dishevelled hair running on half an hour of sleep.

“It’s going to take a lot of self restraint to not shout at you in front of the entire ward when you do something that pushes my buttons.”

“Glad to know that the feeling is mutual.” Zayne bores his eyes into yours before walking away.

With the late hours of the night settling in, so does the orders and requests from other members of hospital staff. You step into the on call room, shrugging off your white coat on one of the chairs.

The door opens with your fellow colleagues ready to take a quick but very much needed nap. You slip off your shoes in front of one of the lower bed bunks and remove your hair clip.

“Doctor L/n. I'm really sorry but may I sleep on the bottom bunk?” You glance back to see Zayne, adjusting his glasses.

“I'm sorry Doctor Li, but no. It feels like all of the life has been drained out of me by an energy seeking vampire. I quite literally do not have the body strength to climb the flimsy ladder up to the top bunk.”

“I understand that, but I think it would be best if I was to sleep on the bottom bunk. It's more convenient, I am taller and the lower bunk is longer— I can fully extend my legs only on the bottom bunk.” But before you can even open your mouth, he continues. “I have spent more time of this shift on my feet than you have, Doctor L/n.”

“I refuse to believe that, Doctor Li.” You hiss. “I'm sorry that you believe that you are more entitled to the bottom bunk, but I was assisting in a seven hour surgery this morning. I didn't even have the luxury to have my lunch, I was called into another surgery before I could even sit my ass down on a chair. Mind you, it's eleven in the evening so the last time I have put food in my system was over twelve hours ago.” You point to the ladder, gesturing for him to climb up it.

“You may have been assisting in multiple surgeries, but I had go over two dozen patient appointments today. Not to mention, I was tasked with fixing your patient charts because of how unorganised they were. So yes, I do believe I am entitled to the bottom bunk.” You roll your eyes, but with little reaction from Zayne due to the dim lighting in the room.

So what? He's been sat on a chair whilst you have been standing for hours on end. “I will sleep on the top bunk. Now please, save your voices. Fight each other at another time for all I care, go get some sleep.” A groggy voice complains.

Greyson hobbles out of bed and quietly murmurs about how you can both sleep on the bottom bunk before climbing up the ladder.

You quickly slot yourself between the gap of the bottom bunk, laying down on the bed as your back finally relaxes and the sound of Zayne sighing brings a tired grin on your face as he walks to the other bottom bunk bed.

“Eat.” You remove your hands from your head to see Zayne, tossing a sad sandwich on the table.

Having finished assisting in Oliver's surgery which lasted an extra two hours because of a complication, you don't have the energy to complain about how you don't even like mustard, gnawing at the sandwich.

You swallow dryly, the food passing through you like worn out sandpaper. “Why did you give me this?” You ask Zayne, who tears his tired gaze from his equally sad excuse of a sandwich.

“Everyone in the operating room could hear your stomach even when the suction was being used. You need to eat.” He says and you feel the blood rushing to your cheeks in response.

You eat your sandwich, staring out of the window.

This is a first. For someone who was extremely determined to get the bottom bunk, it's like being with a completely different person. You always hear him going off on patient's about how important it is to eat well so that they have a faster recovery.

How strange.

Attending rounds whilst half asleep should be illegal. But you don't have a say in the rules, so you begrudgingly follow the rest of the surgical trainees as Doctor Zhou leads the rounds for the morning.

You have nobody but your phone to blame, the alarm on the stupid thing only went off twenty minutes before you had to arrive to the hospital. That and adding not having your daily cup of coffee to keep you functioning like a normal human, your eyes only get more droopier as the patients drift off into a silence to think about their pain levels.

The cases are quite easy to understand, so the only hard thing should be staying awake. “Doctor L/n, can you tell me anything you notice about this patient?” You barely recognise your name. feeling a slight nudge against your lower arm which jolts you awake.

Quickly scanning the room, you notice the relatively fast heartbeat on the monitor. “The patient has a heart rate of 120 beats per minute with an abnormal P wave following each QRS complex.”

“Yes, correct. Can you tell me exactly what kind of tachycardia this is?” She nods, ticking off something on her clipboard.

Your mind goes blank. Looking back to the monitor, you scan the screen in hopes it jogs your memory. What type of tachycardia? This is a question even a medical student can answer!

The hushed sound of scribbling against a notepad next to you is nothing but distracting. You feel another tap against your lower arm, and realise it's Zayne. He subtly brings the piece of paper towards you, and you read the words.

“Focal atrial tachycardia.” You answer and Doctor Zhou nods, moving on to thank the patient for their time and end the long hour of rounding.

Walking back to the break room, you immediately head to the table and grab a mocha pod to put into the coffee machine. Walking to the cupboard to get your mug, you notice Zayne fixing his sleeves in the mirror.

You should thank him for saving you out there. But you hesitate. Perhaps when not as many people are around.

Grabbing your mug, you close the cupboard door and walk to the coffee machine, placing your mug down as you insert the pod into the machine. The machine buzzes to life, pouring in the frothy liquid ever so slowly.

Zayne still stands in front of the mirror but your feet are unwilling to move. Every single cell inside of you is screaming to walk up to him. You walk up to him, thank him for saving you and walk back, simple. So why the hesitation?

The sound of the machine beeping brings you out of your trance and you turn off the machine before bringing the cup of coffee up to your lips.

Looking up, Zayne disappears. The usual sweet taste of the chocolate and coffee now tastes bitter, burning on your tongue. Perhaps another time.

“Come with me to the cafeteria.” You hear a tired voice ask beside you.

“Sure.” You get out of your seat, grabbing your white coat. Zayne walks slowly, purposely waiting for you before you both leave the office in silence. “So… why ask me to come to the cafeteria with you?”

“Am I not allowed to ask my fellow colleague to eat dinner with me?” Zayne looks at you and you both step foot into the cafeteria.

“No— this week has been an absolute whirlwind: running on energy drinks and three hours of sleep is not normal. I think I have the right to ask if I am sane or hallucinating.” The staff places two scoops of rice into your plate and you smile as a quiet thank you.

“Well, we only have two more shifts left this week. Hopefully we survive.” Another member of staff places some vegetables and meat alongside your rice and you move down the line.

“As long as nobody has a cardiac arrest of some sort, then I think we will be okay.” You walk off to the dessert area to get a cupcake with Zayne in tow.

“How were you not stopped by some member of staff for all the desserts on your plate?” You look at Zayne’s plate holding a cupcake and strategically placed macarons to ensure none go tumbling off his plate.

“Confidence.” He shrugs. “Do you happen to be the dessert police in disguise?”

“I will call them over if you don’t let me have one of your macarons. Where did you even find them?” You threaten jokingly.

“Over by the end of the counter. Nobody stops by the end of the counter because it stops the line from moving and everyone is hungry enough as is.” Zayne pushes his small dessert plate in front of you and gestures for you to take one.

“Wait, you’re serious? You’re actually letting me have one of your precious macarons?” You gasp.

“Why are you reacting as if I have announced I will be participating in the Olympics for the ice skating division?”

“It’s just unexpected. Everyone knows how much you love desserts.” You slowly take one of the macarons and place it next to your cupcake.

“You’re acting like I despise you.” Zayne shoves a spoonful of rice into his mouth, acting like he hasn’t just set your brain into a spiral.

He is acting less hostile, in a sense. Maybe he actually doesn't despise me as much in comparison to medical school.

“I’m guessing from your confused expression that you’re wondering why I seem to tolerate being around you.”

“Are you a mind reader? Did you perhaps manage to evolve your evol into brain related functions too?” You exclaim, feeling somewhat exposed by his analysis.

“Unfortunately, no. How do you manage to make everything about the brain? You definitely chose the right speciality.” He questions and you continue to stare at him.

“Let’s backtrack a bit, mister cardiac surgeon-to-be. When did you suddenly get the ability to tolerate me?” You place your hands in front of him, clearly taken aback.

“When you asked me how I was feeling after the patient interaction on the liver transplant. I was just expecting you to just brush it off or question why he got into such a rowdy mood but you didn’t— you just listened.”

“I guess that was quite nice of me.” You pick at the food on your plate. “You know, it's definitely a lot easier to be around you and tolerate your presence.” Zayne tilts his head, confused.

“I guess you softened me up. I think it happened when you started offering me sandwiches. I hear you constantly nag at patients for not eating well because you just want the best for them. But that doesn't mean that all of the hate is gone, it’s a lot to go from hating each other's guts to acting somewhat civil with each other. This doesn't stop me from calling you an idiot whenever you deserve to be called one.”

“Noted. Now keep eating, your food is going to get cold.”

For what is probably the hundredth time this week, you read through another patient chart, making annotations of things to ask during the consultation on your worn-out notepad.

The last few hours of this horrendous one week shift finally approaches. But in true hospital fashion, the emergency button goes off and the nurses rush into the room, with you following close behind. Nurses quickly convince the family to leave, despite their loud pleas and cries to stay.

You turn to face the critical patient, ready to assess what the next step of action is but stop in your tracks. Oliver.

The feeling of dizziness suddenly overwhelms you, locking you in an unwelcoming hug that you can't seem to shake out of. You feel your knees buckle slightly, steadying yourself against some random piece of equipment.

It feels like the oxygen in the room and your lungs is quickly depleting, leaving you lightheaded and breathless. In a strong state of denial, you trying to snap yourself out of this state of helplessness, staggering to Oliver's bed.

Words come out of your mouth— probably some kind of weak attempt to bark orders at the nurses but they look at you in despair and confusion. “He's having a seizure. Can someone get me some lorezapam please?” A voice shouts out, slightly bringing you out of your daze.

The sound of loud rustling can be heard and you watch as the figure administer the drug. “Doctor L/n, can you hear me?” A warm hand is placed on the side of your upper arm and you muster up the strength to look up. Zayne. “Doctor L/n, Oliver needs you. I can't do this alone.” Flickering your eyes up at him, you notice the worry etched into his eyebrows.

But you don't have time to worry about it, especially not now. As if a switch was turned on, you snap out of your hazy state. “Remove anything tight that might restrict him.” The nurses nod and you hastily remove the blanket covering his body.

“Oliver, this is Doctor L/n. I'm here. You're at Akso Hospital and you're safe.” Oliver's movements stop shortly after, the lorezapam quickly going into effect.

You slowly get him into the recovery position and he slowly opens his eyes, blinking at you. He's okay. After going through the necessary checks post seizure, you leave the room and your back hits the wall. A stray tear escapes out of your eye and you hastily dab the ends of your sleeve to hide the wetness rolling down your cheek.

“This is all my fault.” You mutter under your breath.

“No it's not.” Shocked that someone heard your moment of self depreciation, your eyes flicker to the owner of the voice. “You did your best.”

“Even if it's not my fault, I lied to Oliver. I told him that I would do my best. What I did back in there was not my best. Look at him now.” You glance into Oliver's room, one of the nurses accompanying him for the night.

“I know that Oliver is more than thankful for you. He knows that you care deeply for him as a patient and I'm sure that when he recovers, he will greet you with a smile.” Zayne says, looking through the glass of Oliver's room.

“You saw what I did out there whilst he was having a seizure. What kind of doctor has a massive breakdown whilst their patient could be knocking on death's door? You aren't always going to be there whilst I have another breakdown in front of another patient. Imagine what could happen? It won't be anyone else's fault but mine.”

“This isn't permanent. You will eventually find a way to confront this fear of yours and only then will you be able to forgive yourself.” Zayne says and you don't even have the strength to look him the eyes, only blankly staring at his worn out shoes.

“How about we go to the break room? We don't need to talk about it but it would be good to at least sit down.” You nod, standing up straight as you lift yourself off the wall and walk to the room with your head down.

Making it to the break room, you sit down on a random chair and sit back. Zayne opens the mini fridge and places your water bottle onto the desk in front of you. Not having the strength to speak, you give him a slight nod before drinking from the straw. The cold water quenches a hidden thirst and you feel your lost will to live slowly come back.

After a much deserved rest of four days, the ability to function like a normal human being has returned. Tasks that felt extremely monotone during the seven days of night shift in a row now had meaning to them and were much more enjoyable to do.

You pull back the changing curtain, smoothing out the faint creases on your scrubs. Zayne stands beside the table, removing his watch. “Here.” Zayne passes you an iced coffee.

“Thanks.” You take the coffee from him, before fixing your messy hair in the mirror.

“No sassy remark?” You turn your head to see a confused Zayne. “Not even a question asking why I decided to give you a coffee?”

“Maybe it will come back to me after I finish fixing my hair. Do you want me to ask why you decided to randomly bring me a coffee?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“No. But I definitely was expecting a more sarcastic response.” He grabs his notebook. “I’ll see you later.”

During the brief encounter you had with one of the nurses, you find out that Oliver has rapidly improved after the incident on the last day of your torturous one week shift.

With twenty minutes left before the first appointment of the day, you make your way to his room. Knocking on the door, you hear a soft “come in,” from Oliver and you twist the handle. There sits Oliver, propped up on a pillow as the television plays quietly in the background. He looks at you and a smile graces his lips.

“Doctor L/n. I'm really sorry for scaring everyone with my seizure a few days ago. Before you say anything else, I just want to say that I am really thankful for everyone, especially you. I know that you went through a lot last week and I don't want you to think about any of those feel bad thoughts that might be troubling you.” You feel the tension dissipate from your body as you finally find a sense of closure.

“Thank you for recovering Oliver.” You smile and your gaze drifts to the clock above his bed. “I don't have much time left before I have to leave, but is there anything that I can get you before I go?”

“It's a bit cold, would it be possible to get another blanket?” You nod, excusing yourself before heading to the storage closet.

Pushing the door of the storage closet open, a familiar set of shoulders greets you as you step inside. The storage closet is extremely small, the space is just about enough to fit one person.

Having two people is practically invading personal space.

“You could have just waited outside like everyone else does when they see someone in here.” Zayne's voice breaks the sound of equipment being rummaged through.

So much for mood swings, he was somewhat bearable about five minutes ago.

“I could have. But you know very well by now that I enjoy bringing you misery. Could you pass me a blanket whilst you're at it?” You grin. Zayne sighs, but opens up a box and hands you the blanket before going back to retrieving whatever he needed.

“This is one of the small blankets, could you get me a medium or a large one instead?”

“Do you see me as some kind of butler? You are very capable of getting it yourself.” He looks behind his shoulder, his eyebrows furrowed.

“So you do see me as capable! Only took you about six years to recognise it.” You place a hand on your chest, pretending to feel touched by his sarcastic compliment.

Feeling very pleased with yourself, you scooch past him, replacing the small blanket for a large one. You squeeze past him, ready to stretch your limbs freely again.

“So much for having a civil relationship.” Zayne mutters under his breath, but the proximity between you allows you to easily hear him. “This is not how acquaintances act around each other.” He pulls out a small plastic box and turns around, bumping into you.

You say nothing, suddenly realising how little space there is between you and Zayne. You don't think you have ever gotten this close to someone since your relationships in college. Maybe it's the unwelcoming memories of things that you have done with someone this close, but you feel your heart rate begin to quicken.

“So you consider us to be acquaintances?”

“I would assume so, especially since we have agreed to be civil with each other. Not exactly friendly acquaintances but acquaintances nonetheless.” Your grip on the blanket tightens ever so slightly.

“Does this mean my acquaintance will allow me to leave this prison cell of a storage room?” You tilt your head up at him.

“Of course.” He shuffles awkwardly, almost lying flat against the shelves. You don't spare him another glance and open the door, heading to Oliver's room.

“Here's your blanket.” You pass Oliver the soft material.

“Sorry for the wait, it took me a while to actually find one in the right size.”

“Thank you, Doctor L/n.” He unfolds the blanket. “Are you okay, by the way? Your face looks a bit flushed.”

Within the second month of settling in to the hospital, you are immediately seen as experienced. You absolutely beg to differ, considering how you only recently discovered that the television screen in the reception area could actually display something other than the news.

However, that doesn't stop one of the first year medical students from following you around the ward like you are their mother duck— they have essentially imprinted on you. With this built up trust, they confidently ask you to sign off their competency forms.

You smile and sit down next to the desk, grabbing a pen. "Thank you so much for signing these forms, Doctor L/n. You are single handedly saving me from getting scolded by my clinical tutor.” He sighs, his shoulders visibly relaxing.

“No problem, I remember feeling the exact same way when I first started placements.” You chuckle, signing off the date and your signature at the bottom of the paper.

“Were the wards always this quiet when you first started off? I feel like it hasn't been very busy today.” He innocently asks.

Your grip on the pen tightens, and you slowly exhale all the breath in your lungs. “Not always. But it will become busy very soon." The innocent medical student tilts his head in confusion.

“How do you know, Doctor L/n?”

“Whenever someone mentions how quiet the ward is, emergencies happen within the next five minutes.” You see the colour drain from the his face. “Don't worry, just make sure to not make the same mistake for next time and prepare yourself for the chaos.” You pat his shoulder and leave his forms on the table.

Walking up to the reception, you hear the sound of rapid footsteps to one of the patient rooms and you immediately follow the sound. As soon as you enter, you see Doctor Zhou removing her white coat and you quickly realise the patient is going into a cardiac arrest.

Greyson and Zayne rush in, with Zayne standing next to you and you impatiently await Doctor Zhou's instructions. “The two closest to the door grab the crash cart and anyone else who is left, switch compressions on the patient with me after two minutes.” Doctor Zhou instructs and you quickly assess your position in the room, realising you and Zayne are closest to the door.

Without wasting a second, you rush out of the door and into the hallway with Zayne following behind. The crash cart that usually sits at the nurses' station is nowhere to be seen, explaining why there is nobody else helping out in the room— another emergency is occurring elsewhere in the ward.

“Doctor Li, we need to go to the ICU, the crash cart is being used elsewhere.” You say and he nods, leading the way.

Your mind is on auto pilot, frantically making your way to the ICU in hopes that there's an available crash cart somewhere. Zayne uses his longer legs to his advantage and you see him conversing with one of the nurses find the crash cart.

“Doctor L/n, on your right!” He shouts, breaking the silence of the peaceful department.

Turning right, you notice the white and blue cart instantly. You push on it, and it rolls on its wheels. Zayne comes into your vision and stands next to you, making carrying the weight of the heavy piece of equipment much faster.

“Let's go.” You announce and Zayne nods, pushing the cart out of the ICU hallway.

The journey from the ICU to the general surgery department feels extremely long, despite it being the closest department to the one you have essentially made a home in. Pushing it is honestly not much of a problem, the only problem on your mind is the patient and your hopes of them making a rapid recovery.

You feel something cold on the back of your hand and immediately know it's not you, especially with your body sweating from the stress and your uncomfortable, thick white coat. Probably just a piece of equipment sticking out of the drawers.

You quickly look down and register the 'cold something' as Zayne's hand. You grasp onto the side of the cart tighter and look up to only make accidental eye contact with Zayne. Right about now, you would have said something along the lines of 'get your icicle hands off me' but it clearly is not the time, especially when the patient's room is in sight.

You suck up the comment practically begging to spill from your lips, it causing your heart to beat wild enough to the point where it could end with you being a receiving the treatment.

But the feeling of his hand on top of yours is actually kind of nice — definitely not in a way that would get teenage girls screaming. It's just a very weirdly comforting ice pack. His eyes never stray from yours, only giving you a short nod— probably as a way of letting you know he's there and you don't need to worry.

As nice as it is to have eye contact with Zayne that is not just side eyes and snares, you cough awkwardly, averting your eyes in front of you to prevent the cart from crashing into a poor passerby.

Manoeuvring the cart into the room, you notice the tired expressions on Greyson's and Doctor Zhou's faces. “Sorry we took so long, the cart was in the ICU. I'll take over doing compressions!” You stand by the patient's bedside, rolling up your sleeves.

With the rest of the emergency passing in a blink of an eye, you make your way to the on call room. Flopping down on the spinny chair, you open a water bottle and the door opens with Zayne making his way inside.

“I think Oliver recovering has given me closure— I didn't freak out and handled the situation calmly! I even volunteered to do compressions before you, everyone knows how keen you are to be the first one to help!” You smile widely.

“Seeing Oliver recovered has definitely improved your confidence. I'm glad you aren't afraid to jump into action anymore.” He says and you nod with a mouthful of water.

Considering your newly established relationship with Zayne as acquaintances, you expected a more meaningful reaction from him. Despite him being a man of not very much to say in the first place, you should feel thankful that you have even made it as far as him offering you one of his precious macarons a few months ago.

But you can't help but feel like you need something more from him. Perhaps something along the lines of 'I'm proud,' or 'This is only the beginning of good things,' but considering the fact that it is Zayne, maybe this is as far as it will go.

It quite honestly doesn't make any sense— why is there a sudden need to be validated and noticed by him?

You sit in the conference room, daydreaming about what you should order for dinner when you get home after work.

The topic of internet safety is incredibly boring and the guy from IT didn't even bother making the presentation slides colourful. It's pretty much common sense (there's probably an old consultant somewhere learning what an incognito tab is) and your mind is incredibly under-stimulated.

Letting out a silent sigh, you give your eyes a break from the colourless presentation slides and stare out the window. The view isn't very appealing either: thick, tamed black hair covers your view of the trees below. Sparing a glance at the owner of said hair, you soon realise it is Zayne.

Keen on wasting even more time, your mind wanders off to problems that you have experienced since starting work at Akso. The lack of fluffy pillows in the break room to sleep on, Zayne picking a fight with you in front of poor Daisy, the terrible one week on call shift you had with Zayne, your sudden need to have Zayne act more cheerful around you— fuck.

Why are you so caught up about Zayne in the first place? Why do you want him to act more like a human rather than a programmed robot? It was not much this much a problem in medical school, so what on earth is causing you to feel this way?

Is it the weird period of transitioning into the working world? It might be, it takes everyone different amounts of time to settle into a hospital as big as Akso. Maybe you just need more time to get to grips with the place.

It definitely is, nothing else.

After what feels like ten minutes, you blink slowly in hopes to catch up on micro amounts of sleep that you missed out on last night. During the short period of letting your eyes rest, your mind once again drifts off thinking anything other than this useless presentation.

The sound of papers rustling brings your head out of the clouds and your vision hones in on Zayne looking straight back at you. Shit. Have you been unconsciously looking at him the entire time? You blink a few times, hoping it's just a figure of your imagination, but his eyes continue to stare into yours.

Faking a smile, you pick up your pen and fiercely make notes, writing 'what the fuck did he just catch me???'. Hesitantly, you slowly lift up your head to check if he has decided to save your dignity and look anywhere else but you.

You freeze, realising Zayne's piercing eyes are still locked in on you. The room grows more stuffy by the second, and the heat spreads to your cheeks. Coughing awkwardly, you finally pay attention to the presentation only to find out that the IT guy is thanking everyone for listening.

Grabbing your pen and notepad, you rush out of the room before Yvonne— or even worse, Zayne himself— asks why you are in such a hurry to leave.

Walking up to the hospital entrance, the wind brushes past your shoulders and almost knocks you off balance.

It acts a quiet reminder of how it life at the hospital has been boring to say the least, as this has single handedly been the most exciting thing that has happened all week. No new hospital drama, not even a good show to watch on the reception television when appointments slow down during the day.

Sighing at the lack of gossip, you can only drag your feet along the floors to the general surgery department, hoping that somewhere the drama will start picking up again. The handover from the night shift team remains the same as normal: boring.

Based on the blank expression on Yvonne's face, it doesn't take a genius to figure out how she is feeling. Not even as the handover ends does her expression brighten up in the slightest, her eyes boring holes into the patient files. You can only sigh when the night shift team leaves.

The morale in the room is non existent. Something good has to happen today, and it can't be a patient dancing the macarena on the tables whilst naked.

The end of the shift is in sight, and the break room is silent. Everyone is clearly ready to go home, and you countdown the mere minutes on the clock until you are no longer legally bound to stay at the hospital. Time goes by extremely slowly, checking the clock when you think the shift is officially over, only it to not even change the position of the minute hand.

The sound of the curtain being pulled back catches your attention, and Zayne walks out. His grey long coat only extends his tall figure, matching well with the silver rimmed glasses he wears.

He actually looks good. Not as in a presentable outfit kind of good, but Zayne himself looks good.

There should be no reason for you to be thinking about him in this way. It's just Zayne. It's just because he is wearing something that isn't the weird fitting green scrubs which brings out his eyes that makes him look good.

You blink multiple times, hoping that after twenty blinks he goes back to looking the way he usually does. But he never does. If anything, the excessive blinking relieves your dry eyes and it doesn't hurt to look at him anymore.

It was never about the transition from medical school to working as a doctor. It was never about the stupid scrubs that you associated with work. You have settled into the hospital well, especially with how you went out for drinks with Yvonne last week.

The realisation dawns on you, and you press your nails into your skin trying anything to wake up from the reality. You feel your heart pound against your chest and you assess. There is quite literally nothing else that could cause it to race— you are sat on a chair and there isn't an emergency happening.

It's Zayne. Somewhere along the way, you developed these stupid romantic feelings for him.

The hospital drama you so desperately wanted? It's you.

The next few days pass by in a blur, with your schedule filled up with regular appointments and the occasional emergency, life has been on autopilot.

But with Yvonne rushing into the break room the brightest you have seen her smile since last week, you know something interesting has happened.

“Did you hear? The hospital's twentieth year anniversary is this Friday, so the hospital director is treating Akso staff to the new fancy barbecue restaurant everyone online raves about!” Yvonne spins around in her chair in pure childlike happiness. “I finally get to see the hidden couples of other departments! The hospital drama drought will come to an end!”

“That sounds great! I can't wait to have something interesting to talk about other than the sad selection of crisps from the vending machine.” You chuckle, swallowing nervously as you realise your secret may come out quicker than expected.

“I'm so excited to see the stolen glances from people when they think someone isn't watching! I love watching the tension build up.” She closes her eyes happily, sighing happily.

You definitely won't be the centre of attention, there should be absolutely no reason to worry at all. Eat, laugh at some stupid joke and don't look at Zayne. Simple.

Sitting in the barbecue place for the event, you take in your surroundings, watching as people would be more than happy to chat the rest of the night away. Your gaze drifts to the nephrology department, as you notice the hidden glances between a couple who definitely cannot be any more obvious.

You can only hope that your eyes don't betray your crumbling will to continue being acquaintances with the man sitting opposite you. The sharp tapping of a wine glass breaks the silence.

“Everyone can I have your attention please?” Heads turn and you watch as the hospital director smiles brightly.

“As much as I enjoy watching the different departments together, it is time for a competition. A group quiz! The winning department of the quiz gets a massage chair for all your relaxing needs!” Loud murmurs and hushed conversations immediately start, with people happily imagining themselves sat in the massage chair during a short break.

Whiteboards are quickly passed around the room, with Doctor Zhou being nominated as the team's scribe. “First question, an extremely easy one. What anniversary is Akso currently celebrating on this fine evening?” The hospital director doesn't even finish his first question, and '20 years' is written on the whiteboard.

“Alright, boards up! Okay, all teams get a point!” The crowd cheers as someone notes down the scores on a piece of paper. “Next question, how many times does the average person blink in a day? The exact or the closest answer wins the point!” Everyone huddles around in a circle, keen on discussing their thoughts.

“I think about ten thousand times a day.” Greyson speaks in a hushed tone. Everyone nods in some form of agreement.

“It's about fifteen thousand times a day, actually.” You say, causing everyone to blink silently at you as the gears in their head try to calculate. “I memorised a fact book about weird trivia facts when I was about eight and it hasn't proven me wrong since.”

“Of course, as expected.” A once irritating voice speaks up and you roll your eyes in order to not cause a scene.

“I trust Y/n!” Yvonne raises her arm up, looking around the table to see who would join her. Soon enough, most of the table has their hands raised. Doctor Zhou hums, writing down your answer on the whiteboard.

“Time is up, show me your answers!” He shouts, scanning through the answers written, until his jaw drops. “We have an exact answer everyone!” He points to your table, causing everyone to shake your shoulders happily. “The answer was fifteen thousand times.” The crowd sighs.

“Next question, what is the average speed of a human sneeze in miles per hour?” The other tables suddenly get deep into conversation.

“How about we all say an answer at the same time? I know Y/n probably knows the answer, but this makes it more fun since we will just be sitting in silence as we wait to see if the answer is right.” Yvonne suggests, and everyone around the table nods in agreement.

“How about we all say our answers on the count of three? One, two… three!”

“Fifty miles an hour!”

“Eighty five miles an hour!”

“Seventy three and a half miles an hour!”

“Over one hundred miles an hour.” You say, and your voice somehow sounds like it dropped a whole octave. Looking to the source of your supposed low voice, you feel the colour rush to your face. There should not even be a rational reason to feeling a weird a sense of embarrassment.

Of course, Zayne manages to say the exact same answer as you at the exact same time. It shouldn't even be a surprise, he is a literal doctor and just happens to have a good memory too. He is extremely smart, he probably memorised the exact same trivia book that you did.

“Y/n?” A hand taps your arm. “Did you hear the question?” Yvonne stares at you, a hint of concern written on her face.

“Huh?” You look to her. “Did we get the question right?”

“Yes we did, thanks to you and Zayne!” She chirps happily. “The question was 'where does the term muscle come from?' and include the language of origin too.”

“Little mouse in Latin.” Twiddling your fingers, you try to take interest in the plain colour of your nails but eventually fail. Looking to the person who has your head utterly and completely messed up, you eye the bottle of expensive wine sitting in the middle of the table.

It might as well be easier to spend the rest of the night slightly tipsy and having your feelings spiral rather than just be a human void who can only think about the complications of falling for Zayne.

Huffing, you grab the glass bottle and pour a good amount into your wine glass, admiring the deep red hue before downing it in one quick gulp. You pick up the bottle again, pouring another into your glass whilst everyone keenly watches.

“Slow down, you can't have all the fun without us! Let us have some before you drink your way through to victory, Y/n.” Yvonne whistles, extending her glass in front of you as she waits for you to pour her some.

This sets off a chain reaction of everyone else on the table, grinning from ear to ear as they wait for you to pour the wine into their glass. They happily savour the drink, discussing about the different fruits that they taste as they swirl the liquid.

Almost coming full circle on the table, you stop at Zayne. “Don't you want some?” You ask, displaying the fancy label for him to look at whilst you tilt your head at him.

“No thank you. I am not well suited for drinking.”

“I will drink this in your stead, Doctor Li.” You raise your glass, clinking it with his empty one. “If you don't hear from me on our next shift, it's because I have lost my phone and don't know how to get home.” You smile, remembering your college days as you drink the whole thing in one go.

Zayne just looks at you with a concerned look on his face. “Next question!” The sound of the microphone seems much louder, a clear tell tale sign the alcohol is kicking in. “What is my favourite colour?” He chuckles, enjoying the confused looks on everyone's faces at the new question.

The room goes into frenzy, everyone naming all the colours that they can think of at the top of their head whilst you quietly sing the rainbow song as you forget what colours exist. “Blue!” You lean over the table, pointing to the director's tie. “He always wears a blue tie.”

“Yes, Y/n. But right now, he's wearing a green tie.” Yvonne coos, making sure you sit back down on your chair. Looking over to the director, you focus your eyes and finally see his green tie. You see a smirk on Zayne's face.

“Hey, I'm trying!” Yvonne only pats your shoulder comfortingly to calm your increasing anger which causes your eyes to droop.

“Final question, what fruit does a human share sixty percent of its DNA with?”

“Banana. Yellow fuzzy bananas.” Your mouth opens before your eyes do, seeing the bright lights invade your vision.

“You're drunk, Y/n.” Yvonne announces, taking your wine glass away from you. “Drink up!” She hands you a glass with transparent liquid in it.

“Nope, I don't want water! I want more yummy wine.” You shake your head, pushing the glass of water away from you.

“We both know that's not going to be happening.” She deadpans, putting the water into your hands. “At least take a little sip for me, please?” You use both hands to steady the cup, washing down the taste of the sweet berries.

“We have a winning team, everyone! The winning team is…” The director trails off, leaving everyone in suspense.

“The general surgery team! Congratulations, the massage chair will be arriving on Monday. Thank you everyone for coming to Akso's twentieth anniversary dinner, get home safe!” You cheer, nursing your empty wine glass as you pick up some crackers, watching as everyone collects their belongings.

“Where do you live, Y/n? I want you home safe and in one piece, please.” Yvonne, your shining knight in armour asks.

“Near the hospital, near the park with the cool exercise machines.” You grin, clumsily shoving a cracker into your mouth as Yvonne sighs and Doctor Zhou nods.

“Does anyone live near the big park with the fountains and is able to take Y/n home, please?” Doctor Zhou turns around, facing the rest of the general surgery team.

You sit in your chair, watching as people shake their heads on in response. Grabbing your phone, you tap on the screen in attempts to book a taxi, only to be locked out after the fifth attempt.

“I live close by.” A voice that makes you want to hide in a hole for the rest of eternity speaks up, and you immediately shake your head childishly.

“I can make it home by myself! I am more than capable.” You stand up, gripping onto the back of the chair for dear life as the world spins.

“Zayne is going to take you home, Y/n. I'll see you on Sunday, okay?” Yvonne waves you goodbye before facing the man beside you. “Take care of her for me please. Good luck, she seems like she is going to be a bit of a handful.”

You walk with your head down, trying to walk as sober as possible as you can to avoid the awkward walk home with the man who has been taking up every inch of your thoughts.

“You're going to fall if you continue to walk like that, L/n.” Turning around, you glance back at him and only look at him before huffing and turning back around to leave the restaurant.

Walking past the restaurant entrance, you immediately make a left turn and observe the glass reflection to see if Zayne is still following you. He walks briskly, holding on to your bag as he fixes his glasses. You stop in your tracks, allowing Zayne to catch up with you.

Once he stands in front of you, you grab the bag from him and try to walk, only to find yourself stuck in the same place as he holds a gentle grip around your wrist.

“I understand you want to go home alone, but I need to ensure you get home safely, L/n. Please stop trying to run away from me.” You stick your tongue at him, but he still doesn't let go of you. “Didn't you tell me that I might not hear back from you if you get too drunk?”

“And why do you care if I make it home back safe or not, Li?” You retort back sassily, putting your hand on your waist for extra effect.

“I told everyone that I would escort you home, so I must stick to my words. Nobody was going in the same direction as you, and I have little trust in taxi drivers at such a late time. Despite living in the opposite direction, I need to make sure you attend the next shift.” He stays silent. “As acquaintances, of course.”

“Hm.” Zayne removes his grip on you, allowing you to move freely.

Putting one foot in front of the other, you allow Zayne to walk you home. “You are like fuzzy cheese.”

“I wonder if you will be able to tell me the same thing sober, L/n.” Ignoring him, you continue with your new profound discovery.

“Whenever people look at fuzzy cheese, they just go 'ew' and move on. But if you actually know about fuzzy cheese, you can just remove the exterior and enjoy the insides.”

“I was not expecting to be likened to fuzzy cheese, but thank you for your wonderful analogy.”

“Your coat is fuzzy too.” Grazing your hand past his coat, you feel the material and scrunch your nose up in disgust.

“Look at the park! Isn't it pretty? I could dive into the fountain to cool down, don't you think?”

“You are not doing that.” He grabs the material of your trench coat, ready to pull you back if you jump in.

“Awww.” You look down to the ground, kicking your feet sadly. Zayne sighs, letting go of your coat. You nod at him, blinking slowly as you point to the fountain in child- like joy. “Can we go look at the fountain please?” Looking up at him, you clasp your hands together and put on your best puppy face.

“As long as you promise to go home right after this, L/n.” You put a hand over your heart, agreeing with his statement. “I suppose we can go.”

Running towards the fountain, you pant from the heaviness of the trench coat and the alcohol severely reducing your ability to function properly.

Looking behind you, Zayne chases after you with wide eyes at your sudden exit. “It's so hot.” You wipe sweat off your forehead, fanning yourself with your hands. “Take this,” You hand him your bag.

“Wouldn't you like to take off your—” You jump into the fountain, splashing happily as the coldness of the water hits your face. “—coat.” Smiling at Zayne, you can't tell if he's angry, disappointed or intrigued by your behaviour as he places your bag onto his broad shoulders.

“Let's get you up, hm?” He places a hand in front of you, waiting for you to take it.

“You're warm. This is cold.” Gesturing towards the water, you scoop a handful of water into your hands, watching it trickle down your arms as it slips through the gaps in your hands.

“I find it hard to believe that the one time you call me a warm person is whilst you are completely inebriated and splashing around in a water fountain. Don't you want to go home and get some sleep?” He asks, and you close your eyes shaking your head, whispering 'no no no' under your breath.

Zayne sighs for the billionth time this night. “You leave me with no choice.” Getting into the fountain, he makes sure to not get your bag wet as he crouches down, picking you up and carrying you into his arms.

“Hehe, this is fun!” You giggle, lifting one arm up in the air to touch his cheeks.

“We have very different ideas of fun.” Stepping out of the fountain, the sound of water from his trousers hitting the concrete makes you giggle even more.

“You are going to have a terrible morning when you wake up tomorrow.”

“Hm? Why? I feel great now! Look!” Your wet hands pulling down on his chin, forcing him to stop walking and make eye contact with him.

The atmosphere changes. Zayne doesn't say anything, his lips slightly parted as his eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips. Running your free hand through his hair, you slowly bring it down to the back of his burning neck, pulling him closer. The distance is almost non existent, his lips hovering over yours, close enough to feel his gentle breath.

In a blink, he pulls away.

“I…” His voice trails off, pressing his lips together. “Apologies. Can you tell me where your house is?”

“First door, second floor over there.” Pointing towards the building in front of you.

He nods, walking towards the direction of your building. The walk back is quiet, the tension thick enough to be cut with a knife. Afraid of making eye contact again, you screw your eyes shut and loll your head against his arm.

“We're here.” A quiet voice that you know all too well says and you don't have the guts to move, only moving your chest in attempts to breathe normally. “Y— L/n, we're here. Let's get you inside.” You only open your mouth slightly in response. “I don't want you getting a cold, please.”

“Hm?” You open your eyes slightly, Zayne's handsome features still visible in your blurry eyesight.

“We are outside your door. Do you have your keys with you so I can get you inside?”

“Bag.” You reply, pressing the side of your head against his chest. “I need to put you down for a second to get your keys, L/n.” Immediately shaking your head, you nuzzle further into him in protest. “Can you get them for me? Your bag is hanging on my shoulder.” With as little strength you can muster, you weakly grab your bag from his side, fumbling to grab your keys.

“Here!” You reveal the keys, dangling them in front of his face like a cat toy.

“Thank you.” He takes the keys from your hand, moving closer towards the door and you hear the rattling of the keys as the scent of your vanilla diffuser hits your nose.

“I need to take off your shoes. Just a second.” The plush feeling of the sofa hits your back as your head rests against the pillows. Your soaked shoes come off, and you sigh in relief at the heavy weight gone from your feet.

“It's cold.” You complain, looking around for a pillow, plopping it over your stomach as a makeshift blanket.

“So now you complain about being cold.” Zayne chuckles. “You need to change into warmer clothes.”

“Can you change my clothes?” You look at him with heavy lidded eyes as you rest your forehead against his. In your bleary state, you notice the tips of his cheeks and ears quickly turning into a bright red colour.

“No. But I can help you take off your coat instead.” As if a switch goes off, you smile and stick your arms out as you wait for him to remove the coat sticking to your body with waiting eyes. His hands reach just under your collar, removing the material off of you, making you shiver.

“Where do you keep your pyjamas? If you sleep in these, you're going to end up sneezing in front of patients.” Zayne asks, hanging your brown coat above the door to let it dry.

“Bedroom.” You stand up, much quicker than what your body can keep up with, causing the world to tilt sideways until you feel the world turn back upright with Zayne's arm wrapped around your waist. “Heh, you caught me!”

Grabbing his arm, you lead the way into your room. “There's my pyjamas!” Pointing to the big wooden drawer as you plop down on the floor.

“Which ones would you like to wear?” Searching through your drawer, he pulls out a few options.

“The blue ones!” They end up in your lap, with Zayne walking out of your room to let you change. Opening the door handle, you smile back at Zayne who only chuckles as he sees your face. “Why are you laughing? These are very stylish!”

“You still have makeup on with them on, that's all. Come on, let's get your makeup removed and your teeth brushed.” Nodding in agreement, you use him as support to walk to your bathroom and wait for him to step inside.

Craning your neck upwards to look up at Zayne, you await his instructions. He quickly catches on, putting toothpaste on your toothbrush and hands it to you. Grabbing the toothbrush, you look at him in the mirror as you begin brushing.

Just before spitting out the toothpaste, you give him a foamy grin which causes him to unfortunately only encourage you to spit it out instead of complimenting your lovely smile.

“What about your makeup remover?” Blinking up at him, you point towards the micellar water and the cotton pads laying about on the counter top.

“Here,” He hands them to you, with the bottle of micellar water opened. Taking them into your hands, you pour the transparent liquid over the cotton pad and gravely miss, with some of it ending on your fluffy mat.

“Can you do it for me?” You pass them back to him, and immediately close your eyes. Gentle hands gently touch your chin, slightly bringing it upwards as you feel the cold feeling glide across your face.

“Sorry, it's a little cold.” He apologises, shuffling about as he takes more micellar water onto the cotton pads. “Almost done.” You feel him get closer, the stupid feeling of his breath resting on your lips makes you internally spiral.

“Done. Into bed now.” You open your eyes as Zayne stands beside you, waiting for you to lead the way into your bedroom.

Your heavy feet pad against the floors, magically making it into the bed and you pull the covers over your body. “Li?” You call out with your head resting against the pillows. He turns back around in the hallway. “Thank you, you're such a good friend.”

“Of course. Just doing what a friend would do. Goodnight, L/n.” He walks away, and you finally let sleep overcome you.

The sound of an alarm that definitely should not be going off wakes you up, and you are immediately greeted with the bright sun hitting your eyes and a throbbing headache. Turning off the alarm, you bury yourself back into the covers to stop the headache.

Whatever happened last night must have been fun for the pain to be this bad. Closing your eyes, you are immediately met with the insane things you did the previous night.

Getting drunk in front of all of your colleagues, some other act that you can't quite remember and Zayne removing your makeup. All of it hits you like a train, except from this one particular thing that happened with Zayne.

Your finger hovers over your lips as a habit and suddenly everything clicks into place. Outside, jumping into the decorative fountain to cool down, Zayne getting into the fountain to only pick you up bridal style, and the kiss. The kiss that almost happened.

You scream into your pillow, the pulsing sensation only getting stronger as you use up more of your strength for such a useless thing. Letting out a heavy sigh, you rush to the bathroom to brush your teeth and create a terrible breakfast to get the pain medication down.

The medication doesn't go down as easily as you assumed it would. The bitter, chalky taste is very much reflecting your bleak outlook on your reputation and the potential for Zayne to think of you as a freak.

Hell, you even called him a good friend in your drunk state. Never have you ever considered him a friend— only an enemy, acquaintance and a confusing crush. This immediately blurs the lines of your confusing relationship, as you vaguely remembering him calling you a friend as he left last night.

Does that make you friends? Do friends almost kiss? Do friends walk you home in the opposite direction to get you home safely and remove your makeup?

Great friends might, but you bravely established the start of a friendship last night. The realisation dawns upon you, and you stare up at the ceiling in a mixture of disbelief and nervousness.

Zayne might just feel the same way.

The walk into Akso is terribly gloomy, your umbrella almost giving into the strong winds and carrying away your remaining will to live.

Making your way into the department, you spot Zayne in the corner of your eye and quickly change into your scrubs before he leaves you to have an awkward rounding session together with the rest of the trainees.

Putting on your most neutral expression possible, you approach with your hands behind your back to hide your fidgeting hands. “Doctor Li, can I speak to you privately please?”

“Of course.” Luckily for you, everyone seems keen on getting started early and leaves you alone with him. “I just want to start by apologising, I was certainly a handful on Friday night. Thank you for going out of your way to make sure I get home safely. Things that nearly happened definitely should not have happened and I want to say sorry if I gave you the wrong idea.”

“Of course, we are acquaintances and colleagues.” Your heart flutters, but you can't pinpoint if it's disappointment or acceptance. “It's in the best interests of the hospital to make sure that all staff members go back home safely. As for the thing that nearly happened, it's best if we pretend it never happened.”

“Thank you for understanding. I'm glad we can just put it behind us.” You bite the inside of your lip, realising the emotion you feel is definitely disappointment. “We should get going, we have to do rounds.”

With the specialisation exams approaching, the general surgery department grows more tense as the days go by.

The silly jokes in the break room have now been replaced by the sighs of resident doctors who only want to pass their exams. Thankfully, the department is well aware of this and has blocked out study time in your working schedule to focus on these important exams.

With your appointments running later, you have lost the privilege of choosing your seat and are forced to sit at the only shared table without a computer. But that seems to be less of a pressing problem when you see Zayne and you realise this study session is going to be a lot harder than you initially planned it out to be.

Shaking off the distraction sat next to you, you hover over a neurosurgery textbook as you fiddle with your pen. Placing your pen down, you grab a highlighter from your worn out pencil case and you hear the faint sound of your pen rolling off the table. Your reflexes aren't quick enough to catch it in time, and it drops onto the floor right onto Zayne's side of the table.

Without trying to make a scene, you stretch out your arm to reach for the stupid pen but to no avail. Extremely tempted to just use another one, you glance at the ink filled cylinder only to realise it's your favourite one that has the smoothest ink. With a new found determination, you stretch your arm out even further only to come extremely short.

You sit back up onto your seat and watch the second hand go past. The dull sound of a chair being dragged against the floor shakes the table ever so slightly and you look to the reason that disturbed your silence.

Zayne sits there, holding your pen out waiting for you to take it back. You smile at him, instantly feeling bad that you called him the so called reason of destroying your silence. Reaching for the pen, you wrap your fingers around it, waiting for Zayne to let go. But he doesn't. He only pulls the pen closer to him, causing you to be pulled closer to him by the grip he has over your poor pen.

Blinking at him, you gesture towards the pen, hoping that he gets the hint to let go so you can get back to your studies. You even point out the table, and hope that he just leaves it there. But nothing. Staring at him, you try to figure out what on earth he is trying to get out of this.

With your eyes honed in on his, you feel the pen move in your hold and before you even realise, Zayne's fingers are ever so slightly touching yours. You welcome the feeling of his fingers against yours. If you tried hard enough, you could just about make out the softness of his fingertips despite the rough procedures he helps assist whilst in the operating room.

Or maybe you could almost feel the texture of his skin if you move even in the slightest. Somebody should move their hand away. But in all honesty, you don't want to and you can't bring yourself to do so.

But the textbooks that sit on the desk is calling out your name, begging to be read again— You let out an extremely unconvincing cough that magically causes no one in the room to bat an eye, but only then, Zayne's eyes widen in shock.

He immediately lets go of the pen, and his gaze flickers between your hands and his. He hastily flicks to a new page of his textbook, pretending that you don't exist after everything that just happened.

You can only furrow your eyebrows at his behaviour, especially after noticing the red hue that has rapidly appeared on his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

This is definitely not what forgetting Friday night's incident looks like.

Sitting in the break room, you fiddle with your fingers as you watch Greyson and Yvonne walk out, leaving you the only person left in the room with Zayne. The door closes behind them and you feel the conflict between your emotions threatening to spill over but you swallow them down. “I have something to say.”

“Something private, I'm assuming.” You nod, nibbling on the inside of your gum.

“I can't keep pretending like everything is okay. I can't keep going about my day as if my brain isn't clouded so many thoughts to the point where it gets overwhelming. I have tried denying it, suppressing the feeling until it disappears— but it never does. It only makes it worse. As someone who has been wanting to be a neurosurgeon long before starting medical school, I do what I am told.” You pause, looking into his eyes and seeing your own reflection.

“I have always been inclined to think with my head, never my heart. But things have changed, and at first I hated it. At first I thought it was the rush of actually being a doctor, but it wasn't. It was you, Zayne. I can't keep ignoring what my heart wants.” Tears stream down your face. “I have to give into what my heart wants. My heart wants you, Zayne.”

Through your clouded vision, you notice Zayne struggling for words for the first time in all of your years of knowing him. Your heart stammers rapidly against your chest, waiting for him to just say something. But he doesn't say anything, only wiping your tears with his cool fingertips. The coldness of his fingers brings you relief through your flushed face.

You prepare for a heart wrenching rejection that will leave you emotionally unavailable for the next three years whilst still pretending that everything is okay for the remainder of this stupid general surgeon training.

You could perhaps start by having a long movie night with some strawberry ice cream and— “You called me Zayne. Not Li.”

“That's all you care about?” Your mouth drops as your tears find their way back into its tear ducts.

“I just poured out my entire heart and all you care about is that I called you Zayne?” Anger bubbles through your small silver of patience and you walk around him, ready to leave.

“Y/n.” You pause in your tracks, fully understanding why he was unable to say anything when you called him by his first name. “Stay. Please, I didn't even get to tell you how I feel.” His hand wraps around your wrist, preventing you from leaving. Turning around, you see him with his eyes glassy with tears. “I didn't get the chance to tell you my feelings. I'm sorry for scaring you like that, I just needed time to make sure what I heard from you was truly real.”

“You don't need to feel pity for me. We can just pretend that this never happened.” You sniffle, the tears threatening to spill again.

“No, Y/n. Just stay for a minute. I just need one minute.” The sense of urgency drips from his voice. His hold on your wrist doesn't tighten or loosen, just waiting for you to make a decision.

With a sigh, you turn around and see him shut his eyes closed for a second. “Studying the health of other people's hearts was always my priority. I assumed that nothing good would happen from putting my own heart first. But fuck, Y/n. I need to be selfish for once.”

“So you…”

“I like you, Y/n.” Tears flow and you find yourself between his warm arms.

“You fucking idiot.” You shove your face in his chest as you hit his shoulder. “Had me thinking if I would be known as the one who stupidly confessed her feelings for a colleague and got rejected.” His shirt becomes drenched in your tears. “You had me so scared, Zayne!”

“Shhh. I know, I'm such an idiot aren't I?” He soothes you, rubbing a hand down your back slowly. The sound of his rapid beating heart brings you a weird sense of peace, allowing you to focus on something other than the happy, hot tears streaming down your face.

Soon enough, your breathing goes back to normal. “Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask, addressing the smirk on his face.

“So you called me Zayne, huh?” His smile grows even wider.

“Shut up.” You scoff, rolling your eyes at him. “Make me.” Without wasting another second, the space between you is closed.

A shaky hand cups your cheek and you finally, finally feel his lips on yours. The kiss is messy, teeth clashing and you can taste the saltiness from your dried tears. But nothing has ever felt so good.

Pulling away, your forehead rests against Zayne's, feeling his breath linger on your lips. “My place.” He nods, kissing your lips once more before grabbing your hand and leading you out of the door.

You lock the door and Zayne is immediately on you, pinning you to the nearest wall. He wraps an arm around your body, pulling you close to him and closes the distance between your lips.

His hands start to wander, his usual logical mind suddenly in a frenzy. His hands soon find the ends of your blouse, placing his cold fingertips at the base of your waist.

You gasp in response, and he takes this opportunity to sweep his tongue against your mouth, leaving you breathless. Your fingers tug at his hair and this only spurs him on, slowly dragging his fingertips higher and higher.

Zayne's lips detach from yours, leaving a connected line of your shared saliva whilst you refill your lungs with air again. Soft kisses trail down your jaw until Zayne finds refuge at the base of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent.

“You… smell like honey.” He breathes against your neck. “I missed out on my dessert on my lunch break. But who am I to care whilst I am currently indulging in the sweetest dessert after a long day of work?” His lips cover every inch of your skin scented honey perfume, thoroughly making sure to not miss a single spot.

“Zayne…” You breathe out. “Bedroom.” His large hands settle at the back of your thighs and you jump into his arms without hesitation and recapture his lips with yours.

You find yourself being placed on the side of the bed with no idea of how Zayne actually found your bedroom whilst kissing you until all the air in your lungs disappears. But you don't have the energy to care, not when he loosens his tie with one hand wearing those silver rimmed glasses of his.

Impatient, you yank him down with his collar and kiss him like tomorrow doesn't exist. Making good use of his nimble fingers, the opening of your blouse widens as he unbuttons it. The blouse lands on the bed and you fling it away, ready to do the same with the rest of your clothes.

“Gorgeous.” Zayne pulls away from you, admiring your almost naked form. His fingers find the clasp of your bra, but never comes undone. Only when you silently nod in approval is when the flimsy piece of material is released. “Perfect. Absolutely perfect.” Zayne whispers before pinching your nipple, kissing the sides of your neck.

A rush of pleasure runs through you and you can't help but moan at the feeling. If anything, it only encourages him more to devour you, leaving wet kisses down your neck to your chest, taking your lonely bud into his mouth.

“Zayne…” You say, breathless at the pleasure he's giving you. He sucks harder in response, obviously proud of making you feel immense pleasure without even touching you where you need it the most.

He removes his lips with a soft pop from your sensitive bud, only to quickly give the other one the same attention whilst the sleeves of his shirt ride upwards. Swirling your nipple, he removes his tie and shirt with his gaze locked on you.

You grab the back of his neck, pulling him in closer as you try to mentally capture such a lewd image. In your dazed state, your eyes rake down his body, admiring the scars on his veiny arms. He presses heated kisses against your collarbone before looking at you again with his dilated pupils.

“You've been so good for me, Zaynie. Wanna do the same for you too.” You drawl out, teasingly running down one of your hands down his bare chest, watching as he exhales heavily at the mere touch of your fingertips.

“Fuck, you are going to be the death of me.” He curses under his breath but he grabs your wrist before you can go any lower. “I have waited so long to have you in my arms, darling. Tonight is all about making you feel good.” He kisses your temple. “But that doesn't stop you from doing whatever you want for round two.” His warm breath fans your ear, goosebumps quickly forming along your exposed arms.

True to his words, his fingers find the buttons on your trousers and you lift up your hips, removing the unwanted piece of material. Slow circles are traced along your inner thighs, until a finger traces over your drenched panties and you buck your core towards his hand at the fleeting sensation.

“Already this soaked for me?” He mockingly asks, continuing to move just one finger up and down your covered slit. You nod quickly in response, hoping that he actually starts moving properly. “I'm honoured. I'll give you what you so desperately want.” A ripping sound echoes throughout the room, and you feel your hot core exposed to the cold air.

But before you can even open your mouth to protest, a long, thick finger breaches your entrance. You shamelessly moan, feeling his finger explore your tight walls. “Look at you, feeling this good with just one finger.” He chuckles. “I haven't even gotten to your little sweet spot yet.” With the curl of his finger, the pads of his finger brushes against that gummy spot against your walls that has you grab your sheets.

“Fuck. Please!” You cry out, tears filling your vision.

“Please what, darling? I can't give you what you want until you ask for it.” Zayne says, another finger teasing the tip of your entrance.

“Please don't stop! Feels s-so good, Zaynie. Need more.” He slips another inside your wet core, fingers continue to stimulate your pretty g-spot, practically sending fireworks through your body.

“So responsive for me, sweetheart.” His thumb finds your clit, rubbing quick figure of eights whilst you moan unabashedly in pleasure. “I can feel you tighten up around me. Are you going to cum this quickly?”

“Close, s-so close Zaynie. I'm gonna cum, gonna be good, so good.” You grind against his hand, chasing the pleasure right on the tip of your tongue.

“Yeah?” He asks and you shakily nod in agreement. “Cum for me then, sweetheart.” With his fingers never slowing down its ministrations on your poor pussy, you feel the knot in your stomach snap and the pleasure overwhelms your body.

“Took my fingers so well, my good girl.” Your eyes lazily follow his handsome face. An arm grabs your waist, pulling you onto his lap, your lips ghosting over his. “I'm not finished with you yet, darling.” He closes the distance, your wet core hovering over his trousers.

Kissing you deeper, the distance closes even more and you feel his hard bulge under you. The feeling of the material and his imprint feels too good— with every little movement that you and Zayne make, your swollen clit catches against his trousers. “I can feel you dripping, baby.”

You moan in response, pushing your breasts flush against his chest for more stimulation. “You're going to make even more of mess on me, understood?” You nod, unable to help the drool leaving your mouth, landing between your chest and his. The sound of his voice and the feeling of his stupidly hard cock rubbing against your swollen clit has you on cloud nine.

“You're all mine. Mine. My good girl is going to listen to me and make a mess, isn't she? Clenching around fucking nothing. Don't worry baby, you'll have your fill soon, I'll make sure of it. Leave you aching for days, so you never forget who makes you feel this good. I want you to keep your eyes open for me when you cum, can you do that for me?”

The thought of having Zayne making you feel so good without him properly fucking you has you going insane. He nibbles on your ear, making it all too easy to hear how desperate he is for you, making the cord inside of you snap.

“Hah, Zayne! Gonna make a mess, hck!” You cry out, your vision getting blurry as you fight back the urge to keep your eyes closed as pleasure drives through you. In the midst of your vision, you notice Zayne's stupidly handsome smirk as he watches your response, flicking between your face and his lap where you sit on.

“Filthy girl, making such a mess.” He looks down to his darkened trousers. “Did such a good job all over me.” He dries the tears on your face, placing you back down on the sheets as he fixes your hair and kisses your cheek to give you a short respite.

“Can you keep up, baby? Haven't even gotten to the best part yet.” The sound of a zipper reaches your ears in your relaxed state, Zayne freeing his cock from the restraints of his boxers.

The prominent vein running on the side, oh how much fun it would be to watch his reaction as you run your tongue over it. Perhaps for another time.

“Do you have any condoms anywhere, darling?” Shaking your head no, you see the indecisiveness in his eyes.

“Please Zaynie, if I wait any longer I might just cry.” You plead.

“We need to stay safe, Y/n. We don't want any unexpected problems.” He screws his eyes closed, trying to think of something.

“We can get a pill tomorrow, Zaynie.” You press your lips together. “I've waited to have you for so long, I can't wait much longer.” You see his eyes waver. “Please, baby?”

“You are the only one that makes all of my logic fly out of the window. Just this once.” He languidly strokes himself a couple times, his jaw tightening ever so slightly from the pleasure. He hovers over you, his face close to yours. “Tell me you want me and I will give you all of me.”

“I want you— no, I need you Zayne. Need you to fill me up so bad.” You beg and a heart throbbing smile appears on his face. You feel a stretch, your head spinning at the dangerous mix of pain and pleasure.

“I've got you, gorgeous. Just breathe slowly for me, okay?” You follow his instructions, the stretch quickly ebbing into pure pleasure.

Your jaw drops at the feeling and you desperately crave for more. “Need all of you, baby. I can take it, need to feel all of you.” You wrap your legs around his waist, ready for more. He pushes in further and your walls clamp around him, memorising the way his cock curves ever so slightly against where you need it the most.

“So tight for me gorgeous. I'm such a lucky man.” He rests his forehead against yours, savouring the closeness between you two. Without a warning, he pulls back painstakingly slow before pushing himself back in.

“Zayne!” You whine, eyes screwing shut as he continues to thrust repeatedly.

“I'm here, darling.” He finds your lips, slotting it between his, the sounds of your shared saliva echoing throughout the room. You moan into his mouth as he finds his rhythm, showing you the fruits of his stamina.

“So fucking tight.” He disconnects his lips from yours. “Can't believe we spent so long arguing when I could have been in here. We need to make up for all the lost time, sweetheart.” An 'mhm' is all you can manage, your mind only filled with Zayne, Zayne, Zayne.

“Has my darling of a surgeon forgotten how to speak?” You rake your fingernails down his back. “Have I made you go all dumb with just my cock?”

“I can —ngh— still —fuck— talk!” You just about manage to say, looking up at Zayne, drinking in your fucked out appearance.

“I guess I haven't done my job properly.” He snaps his hips forwards and you grasp onto his biceps for support. “Tell me darling, what is the seventh cranial nerve?” You don't have the willpower to prove his stupidly gorgeous face wrong, even though any other moment you would have jumped at such an easy opportunity to do so.

How does he expect you to know when he's literally rearranging your insides?

You use whatever brainpower you have left, formulating a snarky reply. “Zayne I don't fucking care about some stupid cranial nerve right now.” You stare into his hazel green eyes. “Please don't stop, feels so good.”

“As you wish.” He places a chaste kiss on your lips and drills into your sopping core with no mercy. Your head tilts back, exposing your bare neck for him. He licks your skin as a warning, sucking and grazing the surface with his teeth, definitely more than enough to leave pretty marks in the morning. His warm breath finds the small of your ear, nibbling on the fleshy part of your earlobe ever so gently in attempts to bring you closer to the edge.

“I can feel you clenching around me, gorgeous. Feels so good doesn't it?” He mocks you, his tone of voice mimicking to yours. “I'm going to make you feel even better.” Zayne says and much to your dismay, pulls out.

You feel his hands reach out for your calves, folding your legs against your chest, pushing you into the mattress in a mean mating press. “How about this, baby?” He pushes back in and your eyes roll back.

You can feel him everywhere, this position makes your chest heave as you feel all the breath in your lungs being stolen from you with each snap of his hips. “What about now, darling? Do you have words left to say, or has the cat finally gotten your tongue?” You open your mouth, but no words come out. The cool air floods your mouth, a stark comparison to your burning body.

“Thought so.” Zayne smirks, tightening his grip on your waist. “Fuck darling, how did you get even tighter? It's like your cunt is begging me to not stop since your pretty mouth can't do it for you. You're so close, aren't you baby?” Your eyes become glassy, the pleasure overwhelming your senses as you whimper in a pathetic response.

His shoulders are so wide, you can barely even see the ceiling. It would definitely would be fun to leave blooming marks for him to cover up in the morning. A calculated thrust snaps you out of your daydreaming. “Come on, darling. Let all the neighbours know who makes you feel this good.”

His hand snakes towards your throbbing clit, giving it some needed attention after what feels like an eternity. “Hah— 'm close! Cum? Can I cum?” You plead.

“I know you're close darling. Say I'm yours and I'll let you cum.” The quick movements on your clit never stop, if anything they only speed up at his request.

“I'm yours! Yours, yours, Zayne! Mmm, my boyfriend is fucking me so good!” You cry out, your pleasure filled mind begging for release.

“Say that again, darling.”

“Boyfriend fucking me so good! Love it so much, please let me cum!” His eyes lock onto yours, filled with need and desire.

“Only your boyfriend can make you feel this good, can't he?” He greedily presses his fingers into the side of your hips. “Need to see you make a mess. Cum for me.” His thick mushroom head bullies your sweet spot in an uneven rhythm, a bead of sweat falls down his temples.

You don't even comprehend what comes out of your mouth as your orgasm crashes into you. Waves of pleasure run through your body as you blindly grab onto Zayne to ground yourself. You weakly open your eyes and watch Zayne's movements begin to falter as he finds release, hot white spurts of his cum finding home inside your fluttering walls.

With gentleness reserved only for you, he pulls out and finds a spot next to you on the bed. “Hello, darling.”

“Hi boyfriend.” His ears burn with a red ruby colour. You smile, albeit exhausted and snuggle up closer to him.

“I wasn't too much, was I?” He asks, his eyes raking down your body to see the beginning of littered dark marks forming on your skin. “I'm sorry if I hurt you, darling.”

“You didn't, Zaynie. Besides, I wouldn't mind it if you did.” The corner of your lips goes up ever so slightly, feeling the exhaustion clear instantly.

“We have tomorrow off, don't we? Don't you think it's time for you to fulfil your promise of round two?” Your finger trails down his chest and Zayne exhales heavily.

“Let me make my handsome boyfriend feel good, hm?” You look into his eyes for confirmation and latch onto his neck when he begs you for more.

Walking to the lunch cafeteria, you feel a hand appear out of nowhere and pull you into the storage closet you know all too well. “Who are— Zayne?” You exclaim and he places a hand over your mouth to quieten you down, so you bite on his fingers as revenge. He removes his hand, and you rub your hands over the bite marks to soothe the pain.

“Why are we in here?” You question your boyfriend.

“Darling, do you remember this little room?” He asks and you nod quickly in hopes he lets you free to hurry down to the cafeteria. “This was the room where you called us acquaintances. I was not particularly happy with that label on our relationship.”

“Baby, you were the one who told me and I quote, “This is not how acquaintances act around each other,” so it was you, not me.” He only pouts and you kiss his lips as a quick act of comfort. “Can we go now? It's lunch, you know that they serve my favourite lasagna on Mondays!”

“I'm not hungry for that kind of lunch right now.” He replies, caging you between him and the door. “Let me have my lunch, hm?” Realising what he wants, you let him press his body against yours as you impatiently await his lips on yours.

“Hold on, let me get a mop and bucket first!” A muffled voice says through the other side of the door and you feel your skin grow cold at the thought of someone discovering something that definitely should not be happening in a hospital storage closet.

Zayne's hand instinctively reaches for the handle, clearly looking stressed. But your mind strays elsewhere, as you notice the prominent veins on his arms and hands as he uses all his strength to keep the door closed.

“I think the door's locked, Joseph! Just wait a minute, I'll go grab the keys from reception!” The voice fades into the distance and you silently let out a sigh of relief.

“He's gone.” Zayne lets out a deep breath he didn't know he was holding.

“Thank you, my knight in shining armour. So brave, so strong.” You thank him, running your hands down his arms. “We have to hurry before Joseph's friend comes and finds us, don't we?” Zayne's eyes become heavy lidded, one hand on the door and the other resting above your head.

His forehead rests on yours, forcing you to make eye contact with him, sending a swarm of butterflies down your stomach. “My gorgeous darling.” He breathes out before greedily capturing your lips. Your chest presses against his and he shudders at the sensation.

“If we reveal our relationship one day, everyone is going to know who you belong to. Kisses—” He places a kiss on your jawline. “Here,” soft kisses press against your pulse point. “and here.”

The sound of rattling against the door stops your boyfriend in his tracks, going back to putting all of his attention on the door.

You pout, undoing a few of his top buttons to reveal his collarbone. Lifting yourself off the door, you attach yourself to him and leave open mouthed kisses against the hidden area that only you can look at.

“It's not working.” Joseph's friend mutters under his breath. “Joseph, I'm going to try another storage closet, I won't be too long!” He walks away, and you wrap your arms around Zayne's waist.

“He should be gone for good now, baby.” You rub circles around his waist. “But about the revealing the relationship—”

“I'm sorry if I forced something onto you that you don't want to do, my love.” He replies and you shake your head.

“I want to. I just don't know the best time to reveal it. Perhaps the award ceremony, since we're both nominees for the same award?”

“I think that's a wonderful idea.” He pats your head. “Now should we go get your lasagna?” You shake your head, your fingers running against the faint marks against his collarbone before fixing up his buttons.

“Now we can, as long as you let me go first to get my lasagna before it runs out.”

“Are you sure it's not to avoid us exposing our relationship to the whole of the hospital?” You cover your mouth in fake shock. “Both.” Kissing his cheek, you leave him to stop the flush on his cheeks from reddening more as you open the door.

“Over here, Y/n!” Yvonne calls out your name, and you spot her with the other surgical trainees. Walking past the tables, you sit down on the chair opposite Yvonne and place the precious lasagna onto the table.

“It looks like everyone is here?” Looking around the table, you pretend to not notice the seat next to you, intended for your secret boyfriend.

“Zayne isn't.” Greyson replies, and you open your mouth into a small 'o' shape as you pretend to remember his existence. “Have you seen him, by the way? I wonder if he will get here in time before the cheesecakes from the counter are all gone.”

“Not on my way here, no.” You bite into the lasagna, the taste making you instantly smile. “Oh. There he is.” You point to the man hovering over the dessert section. He sits beside you, pretending to not pay any attention to you.

“Since we are finishing our first year as doctors soon and have all passed our specialisation exams, which hospitals are you guys going to work at?” Yvonne asks, grabbing a spoonful of rice.

“The one in Skyhaven, I'm already dreading the long journey there.”

“I'm heading to Chansia, I hope it's as peaceful as people say it is.”

Hearing everyone is going their separate ways, you pick at your lasagna as your appetite slips away with every passing minute. “I'm staying here, thankfully.” Zayne answers, his warm hand is placed on your thigh, drawing small circles to comfort you.

“I am too.” You reply, reaching under the table with your free hand, you feel for Zayne's hand.

“We all need to keep in touch, guys! I have absolutely no idea how, considering our schedules are somehow going to be more intense, but I expect a reunion at least twice a year!” Yvonne points at each person on the table, making eye contact with everyone.

“Of course, don't even worry about it. You wouldn't let us live it down in the group chat, Yvonne.” You reply, causing everyone to laugh.

His large hand reaches for yours, tracing the lines on your palms before interlocking your fingers with his. His calloused thumb rubs the back of your hand gently, hiding back a smirk when you jolt slightly at the sensation.

“Are you okay, Y/n? You jumped in your seat. Was it a fly or something?” Greyson asks, putting all of the attention on you.

“Yep, I'm okay. Just hit my foot against the bar under the table, no worries.” You say through your teeth, hoping they move on and find a new topic to talk about.

“I've been working here for almost a full year and you're telling me there was a bar under the table? How have I not given myself bruises yet?” Yvonne's head dips under the table, and you immediately shove Zayne's hand away from you.

Heat rushes to your face and you tap your foot against the floor to calm down your racing heartbeat. “There actually is one! I think it's a miracle I haven't hit my foot against it yet. It's a sign that next year will go smoothly!” Unsure of what to say, you hum in agreement, picking up your fork to eat your lasagna with one hand as your other finds Zayne's under the table.

“Zayne, why are you eating your lasagna with one hand? Cutting just using a fork seems troublesome.” Greyson butts in, and you feel his hand grip yours tighter.

“I want to get more comfortable with using my left hand for surgeries. Is there a problem, Greyson?” Your boyfriend replies, causing Greyson to compliment him on his dedication for wanting to improve quickly.

Glancing at the clock, your shoulders relax as the time reaches 12:53. “Guys, we have seven more minutes before lunch ends. We should probably go.” Shoving the last bite of lasagna in, you give Zayne's hand a quick squeeze before heading off to put your plate away.

You sit in the large hall that Akso has rented out for the awards ceremony, admiring the blue decorations and banners that cover the walls as you await for the next award to be revealed. Looking over to Zayne who sits next to you, he gives you a gentle smile with a quiet nod which instantly calms your nerves.

“The last award to be announced will be the 'Most Promising Rookie Surgeon of the Year’. Will the nominees please stand up and make their way to the stage, please?” The hospital director asks and you smooth the material of your dress before standing up alongside Zayne.

Shuffling past others in the row to get to the front, the director notices you and Zayne. “Ah yes, the infamous double-trouble duo, Doctor L/n and Doctor Li. Doctor Zhou, you must have had your hands full with these two in the same department.” Everyone laughs as Doctor Zhou eagerly nods her head in agreement.

You make your way up the stage, intentionally walking slower up the stairs to prevent falling with your heels on. “With these two under our radar, our future patients will be in very good hands.” Standing side by side, you notice the large bouquet of flowers that will be given to the winner.

“Regardless of the results, being nominated for such an impressive award is truly an amazing feat. It only starts the future of an exciting career.” He smiles. “But alas, there must only one winner. The winner for the 'Most Promising Rookie Surgeon of the Year’ is… Doctor L/n!”

Loud cheers flood your ears, and you see everyone on the general surgery team giving you proud smiles and claps. Turning around to face Zayne, he smiles as if he holds all the stars in his eyes. “Congrats, my love.” His lips read.

You feel the large bouquet of flowers end up in your arms, and you're gently ushered towards the microphone for your short speech. “I— wow. Being a nominee was truly enough for me, but I would just like to thank all those who helped me get to this point. The lovely patients who taught me the importance of putting others before myself, the general surgery team especially my mentor, Doctor Zhou.” You face Zayne, and he nods, giving you confirmation.

You move the microphone slightly so you face him as you give your speech. “Most importantly, to my pillar of support. Zayne Li. I know that we had an extremely rocky start, but somewhere along the way, you understood me and helped me become someone that others could rely on. Thank you, my love.” The cheers start up again, and you take a celebratory picture with your flowers on stage.

Murmurs of the audience begin to rev up, people talking about how they find it hard to believe that the two people who wanted to take out each other's guts somehow became lovers.

The deadly combination of large flowers blocking your view and tall heels make you unstable on your feet as you walk towards the end of the stage. Above your view of the flowers, you notice Zayne making his way down the stairs and waits down at the bottom.

A familiar hand patiently hangs in the air, waiting for you to take it. You barely manage to hold your hand out and he stabilises you, preventing you from falling down the steps.

The murmurs immediately stop and are replaced with gasps, realising that you weren't lying about your relationship. Disappointed sighs are heard from certain members of the audience, with them talking about how they won't be able to shoot their shot with Zayne or you, making you smile up at Zayne.

Making your way back down to your seats, you hold the flowers in one hand and Zayne's hand in the other. He guides you to your seat, helping you place the flowers on the floor. Yvonne turns to you with a mischievous grin on her face as she asks you when you started to date Zayne. You laugh, elbowing her to stay quiet as the ceremony comes to a close.

Zayne holds your flowers as the entire general surgery department stand outside the hall. “So are you going to tell us exactly how this relationship started or am I going to need to hack into your phone?” Yvonne asks, eyeing your purse that Zayne conveniently also holds.

“That's going to take too long, I'm going to need a few hours for that one!” Yvonne's jaw drops, realising there is so much more to the story than she thought.

“The entire department hosted a bet about you guys.” You look at Zayne, who looks equally confused. “We wanted to see if the tension you guys had would either end up in one of you guys— or both— stabbing each other in the back or if you would end up together. Thankfully, Yvonne and I won.” Greyson high fives Yvonne whilst everyone else sighs, taking out large bills out of their wallets.

“If you told me last year I would be in a relationship with Zayne, I would have laughed in your face. Especially after I intentionally picked a fight with him after we met.” Zayne chuckles as he reminisces your first interaction.

“I had too much confidence for someone who thought it would be best to listen to instructions to a stranger instead of a receptionist on how to get to lecture hall C5.”

“C5? Darling, you asked me where lecture hall E5 was, not C5.” Your jaw drops, realising that this entire time, Zayne never meant to intentionally set you up and send you to the wrong place.

“Your reasoning for starting a six year feud was because he sent you to the wrong lecture hall?” Doctor Zhou asks, clearly amused.

“In my defence, I asked for C5 and not E5— he made me late to the first lecture that I desperately wanted to make a good first impression in. It was extremely loud that day, C and E do sound quite similar when you shout them at someone.” You grin, with everyone still shocked at your levels of pettiness.

“Anyways, I'm glad things ended well for us.” You say, and Zayne kisses your temple lovingly.

“I'm hungry.” Greyson sighs, pretending to not see your public display of affection.

“Should we go to the barbecue place for dinner?”

“As long as Y/n doesn't get too drunk and jump into the fountain, call a good friend before falling asleep after her makeup is removed.” Your boyfriend replies with a grin, and your hand flies up to cover his mouth.

“You did what?” Yvonne turns to face you in shock, her mouth open.

“Dinner sounds wonderful, Greyson!” You swiftly change the topic, turning on your heel as you walk towards your car. Zayne closely follows, his fingers tightly intertwined with yours.

intellectual property of ©hirayalia, 2026. do not copy or feed to ai.

xavier (word count: 625)

you called xavier while you were grocery shopping. the plan was simple. you were going to his apartment later for a baking date, and since you knew his pantry was probably lacking anything remotely useful, you decided to ask what ingredients he already had before buying everything yourself. although, if you were being honest, you suspected the answer was going to be very little.

xavier answered after a few rings. "hey. do you need something?"

you smiled at the familiar sound of his voice.

"do you have—any..."

you looked around the supermarket. the aisles were unusually crowded. boxes were stacked everywhere, carts were blocking the shelves, and employees were busy restocking. the perfect timing.

"what? can you say that last word again?"

you frowned and looked down at your phone. the call was still connected. xavier's name was still displayed on the screen. so why couldn't he hear you?

you brought the phone closer and spoke a little louder. "i said, do you—"

static suddenly ripped through the speaker. the loud crackling made you pull the phone away from your ear. seriously your service, again? you knew you should have upgraded your phone the last time you had the chance. somehow, every time you left home, your signal decided to disappear at the worst possible moment.

"do i what?"

xavier's voice came through again, quieter this time. "is everything okay?"

you tried to answer quickly before the connection disappeared again.

"no, i—i'm breaking up—" the static returned. "—with you."

the call suddenly dropped, and you stared at your phone in disbelief. the little service bar that had completely disappeared.

you immediately tried texting him - sorry, my phone lost service.

the message failed. you tried again. nothing, just the pesky exclamation mark showing it didn't go through.

you sighed, putting your phone away. you would see him soon anyway, and you could explain then.

you pushed your cart further down the aisle, reaching for a box of sugar. then everything changed. a flash of light surrounded you. the store disappeared for a moment. and a familiar voice cut through the beam.

"you are breaking up with me?"

slowly, you turned and standing in front of you was xavier. his eyes were wide, concern written all over his face.

"xavier?" you dropped the sugar box. "what are you—what?!"

you stepped closer, completely confused. "why would you think that?"

you immediately wrapped your arms around him. but for a moment, he hesitated, like he wasn't sure if he was allowed to hold you back.

"on the phone," he said quietly, "you said 'i'm breaking up with you.'"

his expression softened. "i thought you were crying. that's why your voice kept cutting out."

you couldn't stop the small smile that appeared. of course this was what he thought. it was ridiculous, and somehow, completely adorable.

"no, xavier." you pulled away and held up your phone. "my phone sucks! my service stopped working. see?"

you showed him the failed messages. the evidence was right there. for a second, he just stared, then a hint of redness crept across his ears.

"oh." he looked away, clearly embarrassed that he had jumped to that conclusion. but finally, his arms wrapped around you. relieved. "i see."

"you teleported to a grocery store because you thought i broke up with you."

"i was concerned." he muttered into your shirt.

you smiled, "you're lucky you're cute."

"please stop."

you felt him shaking his head but you couldn't stop smiling. after a moment, xavier pulled away and looked down at your cart.

"so..." he glanced at the ingredients. "are we still having baking night?"

"that was your first question after all this?"

he looked at you seriously then smiled.

"yes, xavie. we're still having baking night."

"good...i'll help."

zayne (word count: 666)

zayne knew he was going to be at the hospital late. you knew it too, which was exactly why you were currently sitting in the parking lot outside a small restaurant, a bag of his favorite food sitting carefully beside you. a surprise.

he had been working nonstop lately, taking extra shifts and barely remembering to eat anything that wasn't from the hospital cafeteria. you figured showing up with dinner was the least you could do.

your phone rang before you could start driving - zayne's caller id flashing.

you smiled immediately as you answered, "hi."

your keychains rattled slightly as you went to put the key in the ignition.

"you sound busy."

"i'm…not." you didn't want to let on that you were on your way to see him and hoped your voice wouldn't give you away.

"you hesitated."

he knew you too well. you tried to play it off, "and you spend too much time analyzing people."

"i'm a doctor it's in the job description."

you smiled to yourself as you pulled onto the road. "how's your shift?"

"long."

"that bad?"

"i've had better."

you frowned sympathetically, "did you eat?"

"i had coffee."

"that is not food."

"it had calories."

you drove through the tunnel, still talking. "so i was thinking maybe after your shift—"

the call crackled, you glanced at your phone.

"hello?" he asked

"i-was thinking-need-to-break-up " there was static. "your schedule" you tapped the screen. it was still connected. "zayne?"

then the call ended. the tunnel was always bad for service. you should have known you were going to lose him. no matter, you shrugged it off. you would see him soon anyway.

after a few more errands you arrived at the hospital. zayne had just finished with a patient when he returned to his office.

and there you were standing by his desk. setting out dinner.

you turned around with a smile, "surprise!"

for a moment, he looked like he had forgotten how to react. then his expression shifted. not confusion...something worse.

"you shouldn't be here."

your smile immediately faltered. "what do you mean?"

"i thought..." he looked away. "i thought you broke up with me."

the utensil in your hand slipped, and fell on the floor with a clatter. "WHAT?!"

zayne looked at you confused. "the call. when you said..." his voice lowered. "that you were breaking up with me."

there was a brief moment of silence then — "SO YOU WERE JUST GOING TO LET ME BREAK UP WITH YOU OVER A PHONE CALL?!"

the entire office went quiet. some of his coworkers outside the window stopped walking. zayne just stared at you.

"that's what you're upset about?"

"yes! you thought i broke up with you and your solution was just... acceptance?"

"it's not like i had much time to question it, i had patients to see."

"zayne." you said taking a step closer to him

he opened his mouth to speak then stopped, because now that he was hearing it out loud, it did sound absurd. not only would you never, but he should have never assumed.

you crossed your arms standing directly in front of him now.

he sighed, "i'm sorry, it's been a long day."

you raised an eyebrow. "that's your excuse?"

"it is the only explanation i have."

you tried to stay annoyed. you really did. but then he stepped closer, his expression softening as his hands reached for you.

your face relaxed. "i guess i should have called back when i got out of the tunnel."

"yes, you should have."

you rolled your eyes and before you could respond, he leaned down and kissed you. it was slow and gentle. the tension he had felt all day melting away. the kind of kiss that said he was still relieved you were here.

when he pulled away, he glanced at the dinner you brought, and his stomach rumbled before he could stop it.

"go eat before i change my mind and pack this up."

"yes ma'am"

rafayel (word count: 744)

you had just finished getting dinner with some friends and were about to head into a new nightclub. it was supposed to be a great night. no drama. no problems. just a fun night out.

before you went inside, you decided to call rafayel. mostly because you knew if you didn't, he would somehow convince himself you died in some horrible accident.

you waited near the entrance, watching the line slowly move forward. the second he answered, you smiled.

"hey. how's girls night?" his voice immediately turned teasing. "miss me already?"

the music from the club was already blasting through the speakers outside, the bass vibrating through the sidewalk. It was way too loud.

"good, miss you—what? having fun."

"that's good...i think."

you smiled, smushing your phone up closer to your ear trying to hear him better.

"if you need a ride home, just let me know."

you looked toward the front of the line. you were almost inside.

"i'm sorry—"

the music drowned you out. you stepped away from the crowd, pressing your phone closer to your ear.

"i am breaking up—"

there was static and rafayel's voice barely cut through. "what?"

you frowned, "i said i'm breaking up—" the connection broke again. you tried moving toward the side of the building where it was quieter. "—with you."

the call dropped. you stared at your phone. "oh, come on."

you barely had time to register that you had lost signal before your phone started going off.

once. twice. then nonstop. notifications flooded your screen - your social media. yur personal email. your work email. somehow, rafayel had found every possible method of communication and was using all of them.

you opened the first message - we can work this out, i promise.

then the next - please don't leave me. i love you so much.

you continued scrolling. there were at least twenty more. you weren't even sure when he had managed to type all of them.

i don't understand what happened but i am willing to take the blame.

are you ignoring me?

that is fair. i deserve it.

but please know i am suffering.

you covered your face with your hand. you immediately tried calling him back but it steadily beeped. you checked your signal bar. no bars.

you looked at the nightclub entrance. your friends were waiting. the night was supposed to be fun. but now you had a very dramatic boyfriend somewhere thinking his entire relationship had ended because of a bad phone connection.

you sighed, "sorry guys."

your friends looked at you. "what happened?"

you held up your phone, "rafayel."

they immediately understood. "again?"

you nodded, apologizing as you left the line, already knowing where you were going. by the time you reached his place, you weren't even surprised that the door opened before you knocked. rafayel stood there. his hair was messy, and his expression was devastated.

you stared at him, "rafayel."

he looked at you for all of 0.5 seconds then immediately pulled you into a hug.

"i thought you were gone."

"raf-"

"i was prepared to give you space." he interrupted

you couldn't help laughing. he pulled back, looking offended.

"this isn't funny. you broke up with me over a phone call."

"but the thing is i actually didn't."

"you said you were breaking up with me."

"i said the call was breaking up!"

rafayel froze, "what?"

"the signal dropped." you held up your phone. "the nightclub was loud, my service was terrible, and you heard half a sentence."

his expression slowly changed devastation turning into hope, "you mean..."

"i mean i was not breaking up with you."

there was a pause, then his shoulders dropped. the dramatic despair faded into embarrassment.

"oh...so i see now that i panicked."

"you contacted my work email."

"i was desperate!" he looked away. "i thought i was losing my muse."

you softened immediately, because underneath all the drama, that was the real reason. he loved deeply. sometimes too deeply.

you reached up and fixed his hair, "you are dramatic. "

"and..."

"and i love you."

his expression brightened immediately as he pulled you into the house and closed the door.

"good. does this mean girls night is over? i just want to know if i should order dinner."

you laughed, "you're unbelievable."

"but?"

you sighed, "but yes. order dinner."

he kissed your forehead. "next time, please don't break up with me."

"next time, please let me finish a sentence."

sylus (word count: 551)

you should have known answering a call during a mission was a bad idea - but it was sylus. and despite everything you claimed about being professional, you always answered when it was him.

your phone buzzed as you moved through the abandoned district, scanning the area for Wanderer activity. you accepted the call.

"you're calling me during work hours?" you teased.

a low chuckle came through the speaker. "and you're answering during a mission. seems we're both making questionable decisions."

you rolled your eyes. "you missed me."

"obviously."

you opened your mouth prepared to continue teasing him. then something moved behind you.

"sylus, hold on."

a wanderer lunged. you dodged, your phone bouncing against your shoulder as you fought back.

"are you seriously fighting while we're on the phone?"

"kind of busy!"

"i can tell." there was amusement in his voice.

you fired back at the wanderer, moving quickly across the street.

"stay there!"

"i am not the one you need to tell that to."

the wanderer attacked again, and you grunted, pushing it back.

"sylus, i'm breaking—" static swallowed your voice.

his expression changed. "what?"

you were still talking but all he heard was fragments.

"i'm breaking..." the signal crackled. "...with you."

he heard a crash then silence. for several seconds, sylus stared at his phone.

by the time your shift ended, you were already exhausted. you noticed the missed calls immediately. and the moment you called him back, he answered.

"i am so sorry." you begin trying to explain

"where are you?"

"uh...leaving headquarters?"

"good, when you get outside look to your right."

"why?"

you stepped outside and there he was. leaning against his car like he hadn't just appeared at your workplace without warning.

"sylus?"

"i already ordered you a new phone. your current one is clearly unreliable."

before you could respond his voice cut through again

"now get over here."

you ended the call and crossed over to him.

"are you mad at me?"

"no...i'm irritated."

"because my phone broke?"

he looked over your head off into the distance. "you said you were breaking up with me."

you immediately covered your face. "i was fighting a wanderer."

"yes, i gathered that."

"i said i was breaking—" you pointed at your phone. "—up because the call was breaking up. the wanderer must have been interfering with my signal. "

sylus stared at you for a long moment, then he sighed. "that is incredibly inconvenient."

for the first time throughout this entire situation, you laughed.

"you thought i would randomly break up with you?"

"no." he answered so quickly it caught you off guard. "because that would be stupid, kitten."

"and yet..." you lifted your phone between the two of you, holding it up right in front of his face.

he looked at the cracked screen for a second before plucking it neatly from your hand.

"it looks like i eliminated the greatest threat."

he turned the phone over once, inspecting it with all the seriousness of someone evaluating an enemy combatant.

"you are such an old man."

you stepped into his space and looped your arms around his neck. shaking your head, you leaned up and kissed him.

when you pulled away, he was already slipping the phone into his pocket.

"the new one arrives tomorrow."

caleb (word count: 632)

caleb answered your call while walking toward the transport bay, his tablet tucked under one arm.

"where are you?" he asked.

you smiled at the immediate question. "hello to you too."

"hello." his tone softened slightly. "now answer the question."

you glanced around your surroundings. "i'm outside."

"outside where?"

"work."

"you're just leaving?"

"yeah. i had to stay late."

"you said that two hours ago." he complained

"and yet here i am."

he huffed quietly, but you could hear the amusement in it. "unbelievable."

"you're one to talk!"

caleb smiled to himself as he listened to you talk. this was the part of missions he hated most—the quiet moments before leaving, when he had to memorize the sound of normal things. you complaining about work and the two of you arguing over nothing.

"anyway," you continued, "i was just calling because i wanted to—"

your voice suddenly felt very far away. caleb pulled the phone away slightly, checking the screen. your id was still glowing right back at him.

"hello?"

"i'm here." your voice came back, but faintly.

stupid reception. of course being so close to the deepspace tunnel. the signal always got weird around this area.

"where did you go?" he asked.

static swallowed half your words.

"i'm breaking" the connection broke then returned for half a second. enough for him to hear the next words clear as day. "up with you"

before he could ask what you meant the call dropped. for a moment, his brain refused to process it. then it did, and the colonel who had faced down impossible missions, hostile enemies, and things most people would never survive—stood completely still in the middle of the transport bay.

caleb never made it onto the airship. he told himself it was because the mission could wait. clarification was more important.

the moment command cleared him, he was already moving. by the time he reached home, he was still in uniform. he didn't even take the time to change. the second the door opened, he was already inside. you barely had time to look up from the couch.

"caleb? why are you—"

you didn't get to finish because he was already crossing the room. and then he was holding you. not a casual hug. not the kind where he pulled you close and teased you about worrying too much. this was desperate. like he needed to feel you breathing before he could believe he was home.

you froze, your arms hovering awkwardly before slowly wrapping around him.

"caleb?"

his grip tightened. "we can't break up." his voice came out rough. "not now...not ever."

you pulled back just enough to look at him. "caleb, what are you talking about?"

his eyes were red. actually red. and that was when the confusion turned into concern.

"you said it...on the phone" he whispered.

faint amusement played on your lips, "oh...oh my god."

but caleb still looked at you serious.

"my love we were losing signal," you said slowly. "i was literally telling you the call was breaking up."

the realization hit him all at once. at the same time you stared at his uniform.

"wait." your eyes narrowed. "did you leave the mission?"

"i thought you were leaving me."

the quiet confession made your heart ache.

you reached up and touched his face. "what did you tell them?"

"that there was a family emergency."

"caleb you cannot be serious?!"

"well it wasnt exactly a lie!"

you laughed softly, shaking your head. "you really scared yourself."

"i know." he said so quiet you almost didn't hear him.

"you cried, didn't you?"

his silence answered for him.

your expression softened turning teasing, "the big bad colonel cried?"

"don't start."

his forehead rested against yours, and for the first time since that awful phone call, he laughed.

"lets hope i don't get fired"

valko (word count: 674)

valko had dealt with system failures before. servers crashing. technology malfunctioning at the worst possible moment. he had built an entire company around solving those problems. so when his phone failed him, he took it personally.

the call had started normally. you were on your way home, talking about your day while valko finished up some work.

"you're still in the office?" you asked.

"yes."

"you know, most people leave work eventually."

"most people are not running a company."

"no i am pretty sure even those people go back to their normal lives."

he was still smiling when the call started breaking up. at first, he assumed it was a minor connection issue.

then your voice distorted. "valko, i'm—"

his brows furrowed, turning the speaker off and bringing the phone closer to him.

"i'm breaking up—" the words jumbled together slightly. then the line dropped but right before it did he could have sworn you had said "with you"

valko stared at the screen. for several seconds, he didn't move. then he looked around his office. the same office where his employees had spent years developing cutting-edge technology. and somehow...his own phone had just delivered the worst possible message.

within the next hour, his executive team walked into a meeting expecting quarterly reports. instead, they found valko sitting at the head of the table with his phone placed in front of him.

one employee hesitated before asking. "is there an issue?"

"there is."

everyone became serious. "security breach?" someone said

"no."

"system failure?"

"no...my phone."

the room went silent. "your phone?" his assistant asked

valko nodded. "it malfunctioned."

someone looked confused. "we can replace it."

"that is not the point." valko continued. "it caused unnecessary emotional distress."

one employee slowly realized what happened. "sir."

"no." valko's expression remained completely serious. "i am exploring legal options."

"against who?"

"the manufacturer," valko said evenly. "the network provider. possibly both."

he clasped his hands behind his back and continued pacing.

"i am considering emotional damages."

"valko."

your voice cut cleanly through the room. every head turned toward the office door. one of his assistants had called you the moment valko started pacing around his office, throwing papers across his desk and, according to the assistant's very panicked words, "absolutely raging."

you'd changed directions immediately and came straight to his company. now, standing in the doorway, you looked between the nervous employees and your boyfriend.

"what's going on?" you asked carefully. "your assistant called and said it was an emergency."

the moment valko saw you, every ounce of composure disappeared. he crossed the room in seconds and wrapped his arms around you without a second thought, completely ignoring the audience.

"valko?"

he held you tighter. "explain the phone call."

you frowned, "what phone call?"

"the breakup."

then your eyes widened. "break—" you slapped a hand over your forehead. "oh! i was saying the call was breaking up!"

the office went completely still. valko slowly turned his head toward his employees. then, with all the dignity he could still salvage, he cleared his throat.

"everyone out."

no one argued. laptops, notebooks, coffee mugs—everything was abandoned as the room emptied in record time. when the door clicked shut, only then did valko finally look back at you.

he glanced down, suddenly finding the floor very interesting. "i see..."

you stared at him for exactly three seconds before bursting into laughter.

"you thought i broke up with you? and you were going to sue your own industry as a result?"

he sighed, sat down in his chair, and effortlessly pulled you into his lap.

"you are never letting this go, are you?"

"oh, absolutely not."

a reluctant smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. you brushed a thumb across his cheek, still smiling.

"you owe me an apology."

he considered that then shook his head. "no. you owe me."

"for what?"

he looked at you with complete seriousness. "emotional damages."

you groaned, laughing as you buried your face against his shoulder.

the first thing zayne noticed about the arctic was the silence. not the absence of sound—there was always something. wind scraping against metal siding. boots crunching through snow. the low mechanical hum of generators beneath the station floors. but the silence here felt different from linkon. vast enough to swallow thought whole.

by the time dr. noah's snowcat pulled up beside the research station, zayne had been awake for nearly thirty hours.

"you look terrible," dr. noah said plainly as they stepped out into the storm.

zayne adjusted the strap of his bag, "thank you, professor. i hadn't noticed."

"hm", noah squinted at him through the snowfall. "at least exhaustion hasn't damaged your sarcasm."

the station doors slid open before zayne could respond, releasing a burst of warmth into the cold. the station was more lived in than he expected. the narrow hallways were filled with bulletin boards crowded in field notes and weather warnings. various research awards, and documents along with photos were framed.

and then he saw you. you stood near the entrance bundled in far too many layers. there was snow dusting your boots and a clipboard was tucked against your chest. you blinked at him once, then twice.

"oh", you said softly, "you actually came."

dr. noah sighed heavily beside him, "that is an unfortunate way to greet my resident."

"i just thought he'd be older."

zayne stared at you. you didn't seem embarrassed in the slightest. instead, you walked closer, openly studying him with curious eyes that were far too awake for the middle of the night.

"you're dr. zayne?"

"unfortunately," he answered before he could stop himself.

something bright flickered across your face, "you sound exactly like uncle noah."

"i'll take offense to that," noah muttered, already removing his coat.

you ignored him entirely, extending a gloved hand toward zayne instead.

"i'm sorry. i'm his niece." you told him your name.

"i help manage the wildlife rehabilitation wing here."

your handshake was warm despite the cold seeping through the station doors.

zayne nodded once, "nice to meet you."

somewhere deeper inside, zayne could hear muffled barking. he glanced toward the sound automatically. you noticed immediately.

"that's the recovery room," you explained. "we brought in two snow leopards yesterday."

"at three in the morning," dr. noah added dryly.

"they would've died outside."

"and now i'm sleep deprived because apparently every living thing in this region becomes your responsibility."

you grinned without remorse. zayne watched the exchange quietly. there was something strange about this place already. something unguarded. in linkon, everyone moved with urgency. conversations were short and to the point. efficiency was key as every second belonged to something productive.

but here, you paused in the middle of speaking to fix a crooked photograph hanging on the wall. you asked whether they'd eaten before discussing research schedules. you smiled too easily. it should've felt childish, instead zayne found himself staring.

"zayne."

he looked toward dr. noah.

"you'll start observation rounds tomorrow morning," noah said. "assuming you remain conscious long enough."

"i can manage." he muttered out

you tilted your head slightly. "when was the last time you slept?"

"i don't remember."

"that's concerning," you responded, a hint of worry in your voice.

"that's residency."

your expression faltered for just a second. most people heard 'resident' and thought impressive. you heard exhausted with little to no life. before he could say anything else, one of the station staff hurried down the hall toward you.

"they're awake."

your eyes widened instantly, "both of them?"

the researcher nodded. you brightened so quickly it transformed your entire face.

"i'll be right there."

then, as if remembering yourself, you turned back toward zayne.

"it was nice meeting you, doctor zayne."

the title sounded oddly formal coming from you, and for reasons he didn’t understand, he suddenly disliked it.

you disappeared down the hallway in a rush. for a moment, the station felt quieter after you left. dr. noah noticed him watching.

"she's been here her whole life...far too kind for her own good," he said.

zayne looked away, "that usually ends badly."

noah hummed, "yes," he said after a moment. "it usually does."

❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎

the station ran with brutal efficiency beneath dr. noah's supervision. daily schedules were followed down to the minute. reports were meticulous. equipment checks happened twice daily.

you, however, moved through it all as swift as snow falling. one moment you were assisting noah with thermal scans, quietly reading data over zayne's shoulder with surprising precision. the next, you vanished halfway through lunch because someone had spotted an injured snowy owl near the ridge.

"you indulge her too much," zayne remarked one evening while reviewing reports with dr. noah.

noah didn't even look up from his notes. "you say that as if i've ever successfully stopped her."

as if summoned by the conversation, the station doors burst open. cold air swept inside alongside you.

"there's blood on your sleeve," noah said immediately.

at the mention of blood zayne found himself wanting to run to your side to inspect you for any injuries. he wasn't sure if it was simply doctors instinct or concern for you.

"it's not mine." you said before kneeling beside the heater.

curled tightly against your chest was a small arctic fox pup wrapped in layers of cloth. the fox blinked weakly. zayne's gaze shifted between the animal and the fresh scratches along your hands.

"you carried it back yourself?"

"well, it wasn't going to walk here."

noah pinched the bridge of his nose. "one day you are going to freeze to death because you refuse to think before acting."

"but he's alive." you said it so simply. like that alone justified everything. and maybe to you, it did.

you carefully unwrapped the fox from the blankets before checking its injured leg. the movement was practiced. gentle despite your obvious exhaustion.

the fox made a small sound when you touched the injury. immediately, your expression softened.

"hey," you murmured quietly. "you're okay."

zayne watched from across the room longer than he intended. the animal should have been terrified. instead, it settled the moment your hand brushed through its fur.

"you named this one yet?" noah asked.

"pie."

zayne looked up slowly, "pie?"

you glanced at him defensively. "he likes pie crust."

"you fed an injured wild animal pastry?"

"it was a very small piece."

noah sighed the sigh of a man deeply accustomed to losing arguments in this exact tone. yet you smiled without shame and somehow, before zayne realized what was happening, he found himself standing beside you.

"may i?"

you blinked up at him, then shifted aside immediately to make room. up close, the fox looked smaller than he expected. frail beneath layers of white fur.

"he's dehydrated," zayne observed.

"i know." you frowned slightly. "he won't drink enough."

zayne reached carefully toward the injured leg while you steadied the fox against your chest.

"most people don't volunteer for this part," you said after a while.

"what part?"

"the messy part." you adjusted pie gently. "everyone likes research until something starts bleeding on them."

zayne glanced sideways at you, "good thing i'm a doctor then and not a researcher."

after that, he started showing up in your wing more often. at first under the excuse of helping noah collect data. then because without discussion, helping you became part of his routine too.

he learned quickly. how to calm frightened animals by lowering his voice. how you organized medication alphabetically despite claiming you 'weren't obsessive like uncle noah.'

he learned how pie only tolerated exactly three people: you, noah, and, begrudgingly, zayne.

"you've been accepted," you told him solemnly one night after pie climbed into his lap voluntarily.

"i feel honored." he said lightly brushing his fingers through his coat.

"you should he bites everyone else."

pie looked suspiciously pleased with himself, as the two of you softly laughed.

❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎

the storm outside had been raging for hours, trapping everyone indoors again. you sat cross-legged on the floor beside the heater while sorting supplies. zayne was supposed to be reviewing charts. instead, he found himself watching snow collect against the windows.

"you're staring," you said absently.

"so are you."

"i was trying to figure something out."

"what?" he asked

you rested your chin against your sleeve. "you're different here."

the words hung quietly between you. zayne looked down, "different from what?"

"from when you first arrived."

you smiled a little. "when you came here, you looked like you were waiting for something terrible to happen."

he didn't answer immediately because the truth was in linkon, something terrible was always happening. another emergency. another patient. another impossible expectation. his life had become a constant state of anticipation. waiting for alarms. waiting for failure. waiting for exhaustion to finally outweigh competence.

but here, the station lights glowed softly against snowfall and you sat beside him half-buried in blankets. pie snored quietly between your bodies. and for the first time in months, his mind was silent.

before he could respond, cold shimmered suddenly across his fingertips. his evol reacted before he consciously thought about it. frost curled through the air in pale silver threads.

zayne immediately stiffened. most people reacted one of two ways to his evol - fear or fascination. he disliked both, but you only watched quietly as ice slowly formed against his palm, delicate and precise beneath the station lights.

then your eyes widened slightly, "a fox?"

he looked down. somehow between distraction and exhaustion, he'd shaped the ice unconsciously. a tiny formation of a fox sat curled against his gloved hand. for a moment, neither of you spoke. then carefully like he was handling something fragile, zayne held it out toward you.

your expression changed instantly. not amazement. something gentler.

"you made this?"

"i suppose."

you accepted the tiny fox with both hands. the ice should've melted quickly from your warmth, but his evol held steady beneath your fingertips.

"it looks like pie," you whispered, suddenly a bit emotional.

he huffed out the faintest trace of laughter. you looked at him then and something in zayne's chest tightened unexpectedly at the softness in your eyes—trust. that was what this was. not because he showed you his evol, but because he hadn't meant to hide it from you at all. it happened naturally.

somewhere along the way, zayne stopped counting how long he'd been at the station. the weeks folded into each other with comforting ease. mornings in the research wing beside dr. noah. evenings spent in the rehabilitation center because you inevitably dragged him there under increasingly weaker excuses.

"you have medical training," you told him one night while placing supplies into his arms. "that makes you useful."

"i'm beginning to suspect you are trying to turn me into a veterinarian so i will stay here full-time."

"that too." you muttered under your breath.

and somehow, despite himself, he smiled and followed your lead anyway.

the station settled differently at night. those were the hours he liked best. the hours he found you most often. sometimes in the rehabilitation wing asleep at your desk beneath scattered reports. sometimes sitting leaning against each other on the floor beside recovering animals, reading softly aloud from whatever book you'd dragged along that week.

one night he found you outside instead. snow drifted steadily through the darkness. the aurora shimmered faintly overhead in ribbons of pale green. you sat atop the observation deck railing despite the freezing temperature.

"that seems unsafe," zayne said immediately.

you startled slightly before looking back over your shoulder.

"oh. you're awake."

"you say that like i should not be."

"you've been averaging four hours of sleep."

"five..." he corrected

"like one hour really makes that much of a difference"

he stepped beside you carefully. "dr. noah would be furious if you fell."

"he'd be more furious if he had to explain my death paperwork."

the corner of his mouth twitched. you smiled triumphantly like you'd accomplished something significant. for a while, neither of you spoke. you lifted your hands to warm them against a cup of tea balanced beside you. immediately zayne frowned, as he noticed you weren't wearing your usual pair of gloves.

"you'll freeze."

"i'm fine."

before you could protest, he reached for your hands instinctively. his gloved hands covering your small ones. he didn't really have a use for them, as his evol left him used to the feeling of the cold. but he wore them anyway knowing one day they might provide useful. and tonight was one of those times.

warmth slowly returned to your fingers. when you looked back up at him, your expression had gone serious.

"you're always taking care of everyone," you murmured.

the words caught him off guard. because no one had ever said them like that before.

zayne looked away first, "it's my job."

"not always." you whispered

snow drifted between you in slow white spirals. then, very carefully, you turned your hand slightly in his hold. not enough to pull away. enough to hold on properly.

❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎

after that night, things shifted. not suddenly but just enough for everyone else to notice before either of you did. dr. noah started looking deeply inconvenienced whenever he found the two of you sharing meals at ungodly hours.

zayne started leaving work occasionally on time. which, according to dr. noah, was 'a medically significant improvement.'

your co-workers stopped questioning why zayne appeared in the rehabilitation wing after shifts ended.

he drank the tea you made before it went cold now. he smiled more—not often, not dramatically, but enough that people looked a little startled every time it happened.

and he had apparently started talking about you. you discovered this accidentally.

you blinked at the researcher across from you, "what?"

the woman smiled while organizing sample containers. "he talks about you all the time."

your entire body froze, "no he doesn't." you protested

"she's right," another researcher called from across the room. "yesterday he spent ten minutes explaining how artic hares can camouflage themselves into their surroundings because apparently 'you found it interesting.'"

you stared in horror, "he said that?"

heat rushed straight to your face. zayne talked about you? voluntarily? to people? the realization was somehow more intimate than kissing.

you confronted him later that evening. or at least attempted to.

"you discuss me with your coworkers?"

zayne looked up from his notes calmly. "frequently."

the immediate honesty nearly killed you.

"why are you saying that like it's normal?"

"did you want me to lie to you?"

"no, but you can't blame me for being a little surprised. you barely talk in general!" you exclaimed

he set his pen down slowly before giving you his full attention. you instantly regretted this conversation.

"you're making this sound more dramatic than it is."

"you explained traits of an arctic hare to a bunch of researchers, why should they care about it?"

"well because you care about it."

your expression faltered for half a second. the teasing atmosphere shifted subtly around the edges. you opened your mouth trying to come up with a response then closed it again.

for a moment, zayne simply stared at you. then slowly, deliberately, he reached stood up before you and adjusted your scarf where it had loosened near your throat. the movement was careful enough to make your breathing catch.

"you're terrible at dressing for cold weather," he murmured changing the conversation.

you looked up at him then. close enough that he could see the exact moment realization flickered across your face.

and very quietly, like this was something inevitable rather than sudden, you asked, "are we together?"

zayne should've answered immediately. instead, his gaze lingered on you for one second too long.

then, "aren't we?"

your cheeks warmed instantly - not from the cold.

❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎

once it became official, surprisingly little changed. being with zayne wasn't dramatic. there were no sweeping love declarations. no reckless passion. it was steadier than that.

you started carrying spare gloves because he kept losing his, claiming he really didn't need them. he reached for your hand absentmindedly when you walked beside him. when people looked for one of you, they usually found both. it settled naturally between you.

zayne glanced up from the table as you dropped into the seat across from him still covered in snow, cheeks flushed pink from the cold.

"i saw the migration today," you announced.

immediately, zayne's attention shifted fully toward you. the change still startled you sometimes - how completely he listened.

"the reindeer?" he asked.

you nodded quickly. "near the eastern ridge. there had to be hundreds!"

your hands moved while you spoke, animated despite your exhaustion.

"i thought the storm would push them further north, but they stayed close instead and—"

you stopped suddenly. zayne was staring at you again.

"what?"

"i like how excited you get when you talk about animals"

something warm unfolded painfully in your chest, because he appreciated things no one else did. the small things. the things you cared about.

later that night, you found him asleep at his desk in the station's library again. papers scattered everywhere. lamp still on. glasses slightly crooked where exhaustion had finally won.

you stood in the doorway for a moment just watching him. there were shadows beneath his eyes deeper than usual lately.

carefully, you set a fresh cup of tea beside his arm before draping a blanket over his shoulders. you started to leave when you heard his voice behind you.

"stay."

your footsteps halted. zayne hadn't opened his eyes.

still half-asleep, voice rough with exhaustion, he repeated quietly, "stay."

something about it undid you instantly. not because he sounded needy, but because he almost never asked for anything. slowly, you walked back toward him.

"you should sleep properly," you whispered.

"hm."

you smiled helplessly. then, after a moment's hesitation, you sat beside him instead. almost immediately, he shifted closer unconsciously. forehead resting briefly against your shoulder. that was still what affected you most. not the kisses he'd started pressing absentmindedly against your temple when passing by. not the way his hand always found yours beneath tables.

it was this. the fact that zayne who carried himself like tension personified around everyone else rested around you without thinking.

"you know," you murmured eventually, brushing fingers through his dark hair carefully, "you're very clingy for someone who pretends not to be."

his eyes remained closed, "you're still here."

"as opposed to?"

"leaving."

the answer came so quietly your chest tightened. you looked down at him properly then. at the exhaustion carved into his features. at the man who gave every piece of himself away so easily to everyone except himself.

and gently, before you could stop yourself, you pressed a kiss against his hairline.

"i'm not going anywhere," you whispered.

zayne remained half-asleep against your shoulder, breathing slow and even for once. you brushed your fingers carefully through his hair again.

"you're going to ruin your neck sleeping like this," you murmured.

your gaze drifted toward the reports spread across the desk. most were covered in dr. noah’s sharp annotations alongside zayne’s impossibly neat handwriting.

"you work too hard."

this time he actually opened one eye slightly. you took a deep breath before continuing.

"i just…" you exhaled softly. "sometimes i think you forget there are things outside of work that matter too."

the room fell still. for one awful second, you thought you'd pushed too far. then zayne reached for your hand beneath the blanket.

"i'm here, aren't i?"

the answer settled somewhere deep in your chest—because he was. even after thirty-hour shifts. even after exhaustion hollowed him out. he still came looking for you at the end of every day.

you squeezed his hand gently, "barely conscious," you muttered.

"still counts."

a laugh escaped you quietly. god, you loved him. the realization came suddenly. completely. like knowing snowfall would return every winter.

you looked at him carefully beneath the dim lighting. and quietly, before fear could stop you, "i think i'm in love with you."

the words settled gently into the room between you. zayne went completely still. for a second, you panicked. this was too soon. too honest. then slowly, he sat up properly. not pulling away from you, just looking at you now with full attention.

"what," he asked softly, "do you mean think?"

your face immediately burned. "that's the part you focused on?"

"i'm asking for clarification."

and then to your complete horror, zayne smiled. not the faint almost-smiles he gave everyone else. a real one.

"you're deflecting."

you narrowed your eyes. "you're enjoying this."

"a little." he smirked.

"oh my god."

his thumb brushed slowly across your knuckles. then, quieter now, "say it again."

your heart nearly stopped, "zayne—"

"please."

you stared at him helplessly for a moment before finally whispering, "i love you."

this time there was no joking attached. no nervous laughter. just truth. the station suddenly felt too quiet. zayne looked at you like the words engraved themselves deeply into his being.

then he lifted your joined hands slowly and pressed a kiss against your knuckles. your entire body forgot how to function.

"you should not do things like that without warning," you whispered weakly.

then, after a long moment, he finally said it back. not quickly. not automatically. like he understood the weight of it.

"i love you too."

your eyes stung unexpectedly. immediately, zayne frowned slightly.

"why are you crying?"

"i'm not crying."

"there are visibly tears in your eyes."

"you said it very intensely."

"i said three words."

"exactly. three very important words."

for a second, he just looked at you. then quietly, "come here."

you barely had time to process the words before he was pulling you gently into his lap beneath layers of blankets and oversized coats. warmth surrounded you instantly. you buried your face against his shoulder in immediate embarrassment.

"this is humiliating."

"it's not."

he said, bringing your face up to meet his gaze. brushing a thumb to dry your eyes before cupping your cheek gently. a faint breath escaped him and he looked at you for a long moment before his gaze dropped briefly to your mouth. then back to your eyes. the pause lasted barely a second. long enough for you to understand what he was asking without words. you leaned in first. and zayne kissed you like he had been holding it back for months. not rough. not rushed, just overwhelming in its sincerity.

one hand moved carefully against your waist while the other slid gently into your hair, holding you close beneath the blankets as the storm battered against the station walls around you.

the kiss deepened slowly. you felt him exhale softly against your mouth when your fingers curled into the front of his sweater. and when you finally pulled back, both of you were breathing differently. you laughed quietly out of nervousness more than anything. you touched his face again instinctively.

"i like you like this," you whispered.

"like what?"

"happy." you responded.

something unguarded crossed his expression then. so brief you almost missed it. zayne leaned forward, resting his forehead lightly against yours.

"i don't think i've been happy in a very long time," he admitted softly.

your heart ached hearing it.

"but i am when i'm with you."

❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎

you climbed off his lap and zayne nearly groaned at the absence of your warmth. you took his hand in yours though, leading him to your room.

your room was warmer than the rest of the station, firelight flickering softly from the stone fireplace near the window.

zayne stopped just inside the doorway. looking around carefully.

"you've never been in here before," you realized.

"no."

"and?"

his gaze moved around the room. at the posters and photos plastered on the walls of artic wildlife. at the pile of blankets and laundry in the corner. the plants hanging and growing from the window sill. the plushies on your bed that must be remnants of your childhood spent with dr. noah. then slowly his eyes returned back to you, "it feels like you."

that alone nearly made your knees weak. you tried to hide it by turning toward the fireplace, kneeling to adjust the logs. behind you, you heard him step closer. then warmth at your back. zayne's hand settled gently at your waist, almost hesitant for the first time that night.

"you're nervous now," he murmured.

"yes." you turned slightly in his arms, surprised, "you?"

"i've never done this before."

your expression softened immediately. not the physical closeness. this - loving someone openly. wanting to be loved back.

you touched his cheek gently, "you're doing okay so far."

a quiet breath escaped him, then he kissed you again. the fire crackled softly nearby as his hands gradually grew more certain against you, careful touches becoming lingering ones. every kiss felt like discovery, like zayne was learning you with the same quiet intensity he gave everything else in his life.

only this time, there was softness in it too. you felt it when he held you close against his chest. when he brushed his thumb against your cheek between kisses. when he whispered your name against your lips like it meant something precious.

"i don't think you understand what you've become to me," he admitted quietly at one point, voice rougher now.

your heartbeat stumbled, "what am i to you?"

zayne looked at you for a long moment beside the firelight, then answered honestly.

"home."

the word settled into you completely. and when you kissed him again after that, pulling him down with you onto the thick blankets near the fireplace. his hand slid under your sweater, fingers splaying across your stomach, warm and possessive. he traced the curve of your ribs, the dip of your waist, watching your face for any flicker of uncertainty. when you arched into his touch, he smiled a rare, genuine smile that made your heart ache.

you reached up, unbuttoning his shirt slowly, letting the fabric fall open. his chest rose and fell with quickened breaths. zayne lowered his head, kissing your neck and collarbone before pulling your sweater over your head.

he watched you for a moment. messy hair, cheeks glowing, and chest rising and falling steadily. you were the epitome of the word beautiful. he leaned in to kiss the swell of your breasts through the fabric and his hand slid lower, but instead of rushing, he paused, his fingers resting at the waistband of your jeans. he looked up at you, his gaze searching.

"is this your first time?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper. there was no judgment in it, only a gentle reverence, as if he wanted to handle something precious.

you nodded, your cheeks flushing even deeper under the firelight. "i've…never done this before. with anyone."

something shifted in his expression—an almost unbearable tenderness. he leaned up and kissed your forehead, then your nose, then your lips, slow and sweet.

"thank you," he murmured against your mouth, "for wanting it to be with me. i'll be careful. i promise. tell me if anything hurts, or if you need me to stop."

he resumed his exploration, but now with an even more deliberate gentleness. his fingers worked the button of your jeans open, easing them down your legs along with your underwear. the air was cool against your skin, but the fire and zayne's body shielded you from the rest of the cold.

he shrugged off his own shirt completely, then unfastened his pants, letting them pool beside him. his cock was already hard, thick and flushed at the tip. he stroked himself once, twice, then he lowered himself over you again, his weight pressing you into the soft rug. his mouth found yours, kissing you deeply as his hand slid down between your legs. his slender fingers traced your folds, finding you already slick with arousal. he circled your clit gently, making you whine against his lips.

he whispered, awe in his voice. "is this okay?"

"yes," you breathed, your hips bucking into his touch.

he moved lower, finding your navel kissing gently as you sucked in a harsh breath at the feeling of his mouth so close to where you wanted him. then he moved again, lips pressed against your inner thigh, lightly nibbling the supple skin. you whimpered, the feeling was new and electrifying.

finally his tongue made its way to your entrance where he lapped gently at your folds. nose bumping your clit every time he moved a particular way. he took his time, ravishing every part of you. the way you started to find your voice, moaning softly. the way your hips twitched from pleasure every so often. your senses started to blur together. you weren't entirely sure where you ended and he began.

"more, zayne please i need to feel you." you whispered, throat going dry.

he reluctantly pulled himself away from your heat and positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his cock teasing your slit. he looked into your eyes, holding your gaze.

"i love you," he said again, and then he pushed inch by inch inside.

the stretch was sudden and intense, a sharp pressure that bordered on pain. you gasped, your hands flying to his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. zayne froze immediately, his forehead pressing to yours, his breath ragged.

"shh, i know," he whispered, his voice strained with the effort of holding still. "just breathe. i'll wait."

he stayed there, buried only halfway, letting your body adjust. his thumb found your clit again, massaging gently, coaxing pleasure to mingle with the ache. slowly, the tension began to ease. you felt your inner muscles relax around him, the initial burn softening into a deep, strange fullness.

"i'm okay," you whispered. "keep going."

he eased deeper until his hips were flush against yours. he paused again, letting you feel the weight of him inside you, the completeness of it. a tear slipped from the corner of your eye, not from pain, but from the overwhelming intimacy of it.

zayne kissed it away. "you're so brave," he murmured. "so beautiful"

he began to move—slow, shallow thrusts at first, each one coaxing a little more pleasure from the initial discomfort. his mouth never left your skin. kissing your jaw, your throat, your breasts, whispering love and praise into your flesh.

the fire crackled beside you, casting flickering light across the tangle of your bodies. his pace increased gradually, finding a rhythm that made you let out high pitched moans, your hips rising to meet his. the pain completed gone and replaced by a building pressure, a coil of heat low in your belly.

you clung to him, your legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer. your orgasm built slowly, like the fire's warmth spreading through the room. when it crested, it washed over you in waves, your walls clenching around him, drawing a desperate groan from his lips.

he buried his face in your neck, his hips stuttering as pulled out to release on your inner thighs. you whined at the loss of him inside you as you continued to ride out both your climaxes with trembling control.

the fire popped and settled. the room was filled with the sound of your breathing, the crackle of flames, the beating of your hearts. for the remaining of the night, the rest of the world disappeared into snow, warmth, and the sound of him finally loving you out loud.

❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎

after another month, you and zayne had discussed how you hadn't actually been on what most people would consider a 'proper date' even after all this time.

that's how you ended up staring at him suspiciously while bundled beneath layers of clothing beside a frozen lake miles away from the station.

"you planned this?"

"i'm capable."

"that remains under review."

ignoring you entirely, zayne unpacked a thermos and two containers from his bag.

"is that homemade food?" you asked, mouth beginning to water

"dr. noah said if i took you somewhere involving cafeteria meals again, he would personally intervene."

the aurora shimmered faintly overhead, reflected across endless ice. for a while, the two of you simply sat together in comfortable silence, eating your meal while snow drifted lazily around you.

then quietly, thoughtfully, you said, "i think this might be the happiest i've ever been."

the words slipped out before you could stop them. immediately, you looked down in embarrassment. when you finally glanced back up, zayne reached for your gloved hand slowly. held it carefully between both of his.

and very quietly, he said "me too."

before you could respond, he spoke again — quieter this time.

"i need to go back to linkon."

you shouldn't have been surprised. as a matter of fact, you weren't. and yet the words still landed wrong and your body went still.

"when?"

"a few weeks." he responded carefully

you nodded slowly, processing it. zayne didn't look away from you.

"there's a position i accepted," he continued. "cardiothoracic research. surgery rotation as well."

you let out a small breath, "that sounds like you."

"it's exactly what i have always wanted to do"

then he added, quieter like he didn't want to say it, "i will have to return."

not if. not maybe. just fact. you understood that immediately. zayne didn't drift. he moved with intention.

"okay..." you said softly.

that made his gaze sharpen slightly, "you're not asking anything."

you shrugged faintly, "there's nothing to ask."

then you added, more gently, "you worked for this."

zayne didn't speak immediately. when he did, his voice was lower.

"come with me."

that was it. no buildup. no hesitation. an invitation spoken like it had already been sitting in him for a while.

your breath caught slightly. you looked at him properly now.

"to linkon?"

"yes."

zayne waited. he didn't interrupt your thought process. didn't push. just watched you like he always did when you were deciding something important.

finally, you exhaled. "i can't," you said quietly.

zayne didn't react immediately and a pause stretched between you.

then you continued, "i've lived here my whole life."

"and uncle noah—this place, everything i do is here."

then you reached for his hand again. slowly. deliberately.

"i think," you said carefully, "i have a lot more to learn here still."

"i thought you might say that." he said

"i'm not saying i won't ever leave," you continued. "but not this way. not now."

you looked at him, "are you disappointed?"

the question came out before you could stop it.

zayne tilted his head slightly, "no."

you searched his expression. he didn't look away. then, after a pause, "i would have liked to have you there," he admitted.

"but i will come back here."

you nodded, "i know."

"and you will be here."

it wasn't a question. it was trust. you squeezed his hand once more.

"waiting for you," you said. and for now, that was enough.

❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎

the first three months of being apart were almost good. not perfect, but close enough that you let yourself believe distance might actually be survivable.

at first, it looked like it would be. zayne called when he said he would. sometimes early mornings for you, sometimes late nights for him, but he always showed up on the screen in some version of exhaustion that still softened when he saw you.

you learned to time your days around him. he learned to end his meetings early when he could. it wasn't ideal. but it was something. and for a while, something was enough.

then the work started to take him. slowly, at first, then all at once.

"i'll call you tonight," became "i'll try."

"i'm free at 10," became "i might still be in surgery."

then one day, it was just a message.

'sorry. emergency case. talk later.'

you stared at it for a long time before replying.

'okay. stay safe.'

that was the pattern after that. you told yourself it was fine, because your life didn't stop either. animals still got injured. storms still trapped people in places they shouldn't be. you stayed busy. you had to.

at first, you were still the one trying harder. you sent updates. pictures from the rehabilitation wing. voice messages during late shifts. small things that said i'm still here with you.

zayne always responded. just…later.

'i saw this during surgery. that's good. be careful in storms.'

short replies. functional yet not unkind.

and you started noticing something worse than distance. you were still building your life around him yet he wasn't building anything around you.

the turning point wasn't dramatic. it was a missed call. then another. then three in a row that he never returned.

one night after about two weeks you got through. zayne sat in a dim office somewhere in the hospital, tie loosened, sleeves rolled up, exhaustion carved into his face in a way that looked almost permanent now.

"you look tired," you said softly.

"i am", he admitted.

you watched him carefully, "did you eat today?"

"yes."

you waited. he didn't elaborate. you nodded slowly, "okay."

silence. not comfortable anymore. zayne glanced at something off screen, then back at you.

"i have rounds early tomorrow," he said.

you blinked looking around your room, "it's already late where you are."

"i know."

you waited. nothing else came. no question about your day. no follow-up. no lingering moment or hesitation to hang up like there used to be.

then you finally said, "i think i'm the only one trying to keep this going."

zayne looked at you carefully through the screen.

"that's not true," he said.

but it didn't sound like denial. it sounded like regret finally pushing back.

you shook your head slightly, "it feels like it is."

"i'm trying, but i don't think i'm doing this well. i keep thinking i'll get back to the way it was, but—"

he stopped, because you both already knew. you spoke gently.

"i think we've been trying to hold onto something that doesn't have space to exist like this anymore.”

his eyes didn't leave you. "are you asking me to end it?" he asked quietly.

you shook your head once, "no...i think we already did," you said softly.

there was no anger. just truth settling into the place of silence. zayne closed his eyes briefly. when he opened them again, his voice was steady.

"i don't want to lose you."

that part didn't change. it never had.

you nodded slowly, "i know." you held back the tears in your eyes, before continuing, "but i think a part of you lost me when you left and now the rest followed."

and this time, he just looked at you for a long moment, like memorizing something he didn't know how to keep anymore.

"i'm sorry," he said finally.

you smiled faintly, even though it hurt.

"i don't think either of us did anything wrong."

zayne nodded once. final in a way neither of you had really chosen, but both of you understood.

"okay," he said softly. not agreement but acknowledgment.

you both lingered for a second longer on the call. neither of you wanting to be the one to end it. then you did, and this time it was for good.

❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎

five years later

the convoy arrived without warning. machines cutting through white silence, tires biting into packed snow with controlled precision that felt almost disrespectful to the landscape. linkon always moved like that. like the world was something to be managed.

you stood beside your uncle at the edge of the station platform, coat pulled tight, watching the vehicles settle into formation.

"you knew they were sending hunters," you said quietly.

"no," noah replied. "but i knew they wouldn't send anyone unarmed."

the lead vehicle door opened. zayne stepped out first, and your body registered him before your mind did.

five years layered into a single second.

he looked different. more aged and refined. linkon had hardened the edges of the residency once carved into him. his posture was precise, his coat structured, and his presence controlled. but his eyes—his eyes still found you immediately. no hesitation. just recognition held steady across distance.

a second figure stepped out behind him. a women in a deepspace hunter uniform that is reinforced, functional, designed for field work. she moved like someone used to instability and still choosing control anyway.

she took in the station in one sweep. then her gaze landed on you.

"dr. l/n," she said.

you nodded once, "deepspace hunter mc."

"mission lead actually," she added calmly.

dr. noah exhaled behind you. "of course linkon sends hunters for retrieval."

mc glanced at him, "we were assigned recovery of a lost research unit."

"lost," noah repeated. "meaning they are already gone or worse."

"that is unknown," she replied evenly. "that is why we are here."

zayne still hadn't spoken, but he also hadn't looked away from you. mc turned slightly toward the group.

"we are conducting a classified retrieval operation," she said.

a holo-map activated from her wrist device, projecting terrain into the air between you. "a linkon research team went dark three days ago following confirmed wanderer engagement in the northern ridge sector."

the arctic terrain that you called your home appeared in layered light—fractures. it was danger mapped into geometry.

zayne stepped closer to the map. mc adjusted her position beside him without hesitation. it was familiar, like two people who had done this before. done it often. dr. noah noticed. so did you. you just didn't comment on it. because it was clear—without anyone saying it. that this wasn't just a work dynamic. mc was not an unfamiliar colleague. she was his partner, and it all existed quietly in the space between them.

dr. noah leaned slightly toward you. "that explains why they sent him specifically."

you didn't answer. your throat suddenly closing up and feeling dry.

"we require local terrain navigation support," she said, turning her attention to you. "dr. l/n. you are recommended."

that pulled you fully into the moment. zayne's gaze flicked to you again - just briefly.

mc continued without pause, "you are the most familiar with unstable ridges and animal migration paths in this region."

noah answered before you did, "she knows the terrain better than anyone in linkon or arctic combined."

mc nodded once. "then she is essential to the mission."

this was not a request. it was an assignment.

"understood," you said.

mc shifted slightly, "we deploy at first light."

the briefing dissolved into logistics. everything had order. everything had purpose.

you stepped outside onto the observation deck without really deciding to. the wind hit your face immediately and for a moment, you just stood there.

"you still do that." a voice called

you didn't turn right away. you already knew. zayne stood a few steps behind you with the same controlled posture, but now there was no professional buffer. just empty space.

"you mean stand outside in subzero wind voluntarily?" you asked.

"yes."

you exhaled faintly, "it helps me think."

"i remember," he said.

then you looked at him properly, "you look different. linkon suits you," you added lightly.

his gaze didn't leave you. yet something in his eyes looked wounded at that statement.

"and you never left." he said

"no stayed right here like i promised."

that came out a bit harsher than you intended, but this was your truth.

zayne studied you for a long moment. then, carefully, "i did not expect it to feel like this."

you tilted your head slightly, "like what?"

he hesitated just once before stepping closer towards you.

"like i didn't leave everything behind."

your breath caught slightly, but you didn't step forward to meet him halfway. you couldn't bring yourself too. inside the station, movement returned. mc had followed. she stepped out into the wind, adjusting her gloves as she approached. she looked at zayne first.

"everything finalized?" she asked.

"yes," he replied.

mc's gaze shifted briefly to you, then back to him, "i'm sorry was i interrupting something?"

and just like that—he stepped into motion beside her. returning to the role he occupied in this moment.

"no i was just leaving"

that stung more than you cared to admit. then they disappeared back inside and the arctic wind filled the space they left behind like it had never been interrupted at all.

❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎

the next day you were completely focused on one thing only. retrieving the lost group quickly and safely and returning to your normal life. you moved ahead of the group, boots cutting a line through packed frost, your gaze tracking terrain changes that didn't show up on any linkon feed. behind you, footsteps matched yours. not perfectly but closely enough that you didn't have to check. zayne. mc followed a few paces behind, scanning the ridge line with precision, eyes moving between the earth and the two of you ahead.

she noticed everything. she just didn't interrupt it. not yet anyway. it happened again an hour later. wind picked up along the ridge edge, visibility dropping into shifting white.

you raised your hand slightly without thinking, "stop."

the group halted. zayne was already scanning ahead.

"pressure shift incoming" you said.

he nodded once, "a storm from the west corridor."

you glanced at him briefly, "that wasn't in the forecast."

"it rarely is accurate in this sector," he replied.

you exhaled softly, "then we wait it out in that cave up ahead."

there was no discussion. just agreement that didn't need negotiation. mc stayed back as you and zayne moved forward slightly to assess shelter structure. she watched the two of you step into the rock fold at the same time. not coordinated. just…synchronized.

inside the shelter, wind muted slightly. you removed one glove, flexing your fingers and zayne did the same out of habit. she stood far enough away giving space without needing to be asked. that was when she saw it more clearly. you and him. the way he passed you a heat pack without you asking. the way your eyes lit up ever so slightly before you nodded a thank you his way.

later, as the group moved again, mc finally spoke over comms.

"you two move well together," she said.

you glanced back slightly. "we've worked this terrain before."

"i don't mean the terrain," she replied.

zayne didn't respond immediately. neither did you. then he said quietly, "history helps."

it wasn't until much later, when you paused again at a ridge overlook, that she saw it fully. you were pointing out structural collapse points ahead, voice steady, grounded in familiarity with the land. zayne was watching you. not the landscape—you. and when you spoke, he responded without delay because he already knew what you would say.

mc adjusted her grip on her weapon slowly. not because she felt excluded, but because she realized there was a threat. one that was precise and quiet. she had known zayne in linkon. he was controlled and efficient, always slightly distant in a way she assumed was just him.

but here with you, he was something else. her zayne didn't belong to this place. but a version of him did. and that version— was already walking ahead of her instead of with her. and mc realized, with clinical clarity, that she had never actually seen him like this before. not once in the years she had been beside him.

❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎

the aurora didn't fade that night. it thinned out like something deciding it had already been seen enough. the research team had been retrieved hours ago. alive and shaken but stable. the mission was no longer urgent, it was concluding. and this was the final night.

you and zayne ended up at the overlook again. not by agreement but by inevitability. the arctic made patterns out of people without asking permission. the sky above you moved in slow ribbons of light—fainter now, almost hesitant.

zayne broke the silence first. "you did well," he said quietly.

"i was just doing my job"

"you kept us from losing the southern corridor," he continued. "without your route correction, we would have lost two hours. possibly the team."

you looked away toward the snowfield below. "it was obvious," you said.

"it wasn't," he replied. that made you pause slightly. then you heard him continue, softer. "you still underestimate what you see."

you didn't answer immediately because that used to be something he said years ago. back when things were simpler and you were young and naive.

then you said, quietly, "you're exactly where you were always meant to be. saving people. making decisions no one else can make under pressure. you don't hesitate, you just act. that's who you are."

zayne didn't respond immediately, his gaze stayed fix on you. then he asked almost unsure, "and you?"

you exhaled slightly. "i stayed," you said. "and i became someone who understands what survives out here."

the wind shifted just enough to move the edge of your coat. zayne stepped slightly closer to block you from the breeze—not deliberate at first, just closing distance as naturally as he always did.

you didn't step back and the space between you narrowed until it stopped feeling like distance and started feeling like choice. zayne looked at you longer than before. different than before. something in him had stopped calculating and started remembering. his hand lifted slightly. just enough that it existed between intention and action. neither of you moving.

for a second, everything else fell away. there was no mission. no mc. no years lost. zayne's gaze dropped briefly to your lips, then back to your eyes and he leaned in, slow and controlled. you didn't stop him but you didn't move toward him either. you simply stayed right there where the past and present finally touched the same point. the distance between you nearly disappeared when—"zayne."

mc's voice cut through the ridge wind. not sharp. not panicked. just real. the world returning. zayne stopped immediately. his hand lowered before it ever reached you. the moment didn't break, it simply ended before becoming real. he turned his head slightly toward her voice. mc stood nearby, posture steady, expression controlled—but her eyes were clearer now than they had been all mission.

"i've been calling you," she said. "we need to finalize departure prep."

zayne didn't move away from you immediately. for a fraction of a second, he still stood too close. then slowly—he stepped back.

"i know," he said quietly.

mc waited not intruding. zayne finally turned fully toward her and something settled back into place when he did.

"let's go," he said, voice low.

mc nodded and then she looked at you. not suspicious or territorial. just keenly aware of what might have happened between the two of you had she not shown up.

"i'll see you at departure," she said calmly.

then she turned and walked with him. side by side. as they always moved in linkon, and as they would continue to move.

you stayed on the ridge a little longer. the aurora was almost gone now. just traces of light dissolving into dark sky. and for the first time since he arrived—you understood that nothing about this mission had ever been about retrieval to either of you. it had been about return, and what could no longer fully return to where it once belonged.

the journey back to the station was quieter now that there was no more stakes. snow outside the convoy moved in long, indifferent sheets. mc sat beside zayne. they had done this before—long returns after completed operations. exhaustion softened into routine, but this time, zayne wasn't fully there.

"you've been quiet since we left," she said.

zayne didn't look up from the data pad in his hands.

"i keep thinking," he said quietly, "about how easily i adapted to leaving."

mc didn't respond immediately. it wasn't often zayne talked about his past. those grueling years she thought he had spent here during his residency.

"i told myself it was necessary. that distance was part of the work. an inevitable part of my future."

his voice lowered slightly, "and i believed it."

mc's gaze stayed on him now. letting him continue without interruption.

"but i don't think that was the full truth. i think i just stopped returning to what mattered most because i was good at not looking back."

mc didn't react outwardly, but she understood immediately. the arctic had not just been a mission. it had been a return to something he had never processed leaving behind. zayne's gaze stayed on the fading white outside.

"i thought i had moved forward," he said. "but i think i just built a life that didn't require me to resolve anything i left unresolved.”

"and now" he said slowly looking forward towards where you were sitting. " i don't think i want to leave again.”

mc looked at him for a long moment then said with a hint of sadness in her voice, "then you'll have to decide what you're willing to sacrifice."

❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎

the station was already in departure preparation when you arrived. too many people moving with practiced efficiently. and mc—she was leaving. you saw her near the vehicles already packed. zayne stood nearby, not with her, yet not without her either. somewhere in between.

you caught fragments of conversation without meaning to.

"you're not returning on schedule?" she asked him.

"i'll follow later," zayne replied.

there was no explanation. simply a decision. mc studied him for a moment.

then said, quieter looking down at her feet, "it's her isn't it?"

she finally reached that conclusion and zayne didn't deny it. mc exhaled once.

"i see" she said. "you didn't used to hesitate like this."

zayne's gaze stayed forward. "i didn't used to have anything i refused to leave behind," he said.

you stepped back before either of them noticed you. you hadn't intented on listening, but you already had and it didn't feel like something you could unhear. you left the station without announcing it. the frozen lake wasn't far. the same lake where you left a piece of your heart behind. you intended now to collect it.

the ice stretched wide and pale beneath you, reflecting a sky that you replayed so many times in your memory. this was where you and zayne had once had a date. where he asked you to move to linkon with him...and you said no. some days part of you had regretted that decision and wondered what your life might have turned into if you had gone with him. but now here you were as you stood at the edge waiting for your thoughts to stop sounding like his voice.

the station felt at peace after mc left. zayne didn't board with her. he watched the trucks depart until the last vehicle disappeared into the white horizon. only then did dr. noah speak.

"you're not going with them."

zayne didn't turn immediately, "no."

noah studied him for a long moment, then exhaled through his nose.

"i was wondering when you'd stop running on habit and start making choices again."

zayne's gaze shifted slightly toward the direction of the frozen lake.

"i came back because i finally understood the severity of what i left behind."

noah watched him carefully following his gaze. he knew where you had gone. "you're talking about her."

zayne didn't deny it. but noah saw the flash of every emotion he was trying to suppress behind his hazel eyes.

noah exhaled slowly, "linkon will keep functioning," he said. "it always does. it replaces people. it adjusts...but it doesn't replace people like her."

zayne looked at him fully now. noah stepped closer slightly. his tone shifted—not softer, just direct.

"so whatever you do next, make sure you understand something important."

zayne didn't speak as he gave him his complete attention.

"don't come back into her life like a man trying to fix what he broke just because he finally noticed the damage."

noah's gaze didn't waver. "if you're going to go to her, don't break her heart again trying to learn how to stay."

that landed differently. not as warning. as permission with consequence.

"i wont. i don't think i can afford to."

noah studied him one last time then nodded once, "good because she's not someone you can leave and assume will still be standing in the same place twice."

zayne's eyes shifted slightly toward the exit. toward the path. toward the frozen lake once more. where you already where. and this time—he moved.

❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎

he found you there yet didn't call out immediately. he just walked forward until the distance between you was small enough that warmth settled between you.

"you left without saying anything," he said.

you didn't turn fully, "i needed somewhere to think."

the frozen lake stretched beneath both of you.

"i spoke with mc before she left," he said.

that made you glance slightly in his direction.

"she noticed what i didn't want to name for a long time."

"and what's that?" you asked hesitantly

"i shouldn't have left you," he said.

the words didn't rush into your heart, they settled like a heavy blanket. you didn't respond immediately, so he kept going.

"i told myself that i was choosing a path i had to follow. but i never realized there was always another choice."

you finally turned toward him as the wind moved between you, cold and unforgiving.

zayne met your gaze fully, "and i found something out there," he said quietly.

"not in linkon. not in the mission."

you knew where this was going and tried to stop the tears from welling up in your eyes.

"i found that i never actually stopped belonging to you in the way i thought i had.”

he stepped slightly closer hands reaching for yours and when you didn't pull away he carefully interlinked your fingers.

"i don't want to lose you again to something i convinced myself was more important than this," he said.

"i don't want to keep living a life where i leave the most important thing behind and call it responsibility."

the frozen lake held both of your reflections now—guilt, regret, and yet still hopeless love. for a brief second you saw your younger selves staring back at you.

zayne's voice lowered, "i found myself again in the arctic, but i think i only recognized it because you were still here."

that hit your heart in a way you weren't anticipating. you knew this place like the back of your hand because it was your home. but you were always his.

he exhaled once then said, "i'm not asking for what we were. i'm asking if there's still something here that we never actually finished becoming."

the silence after his words didn't feel empty. it felt full, like the lake beneath your feet—frozen, holding everything that had ever fallen into it.

zayne didn't move. he didn't push forward. he just waited, and just like the night where you bared your souls to each other, he let you be the one to decide what came next.

you exhaled a long breath you didn't realize you had been holding in. you didn't break eye contact, and for the first time since his arrival, you grounded yourself in the fact that he was actually here. not a memory. not a version. him. your zayne.

"you don't get to say things like that and expect it to erase what it cost," you said quietly.

zayne's expression tightened slightly, and you saw the faint line of water threatening to spill from his eyes.

"i stayed here after you left and told myself i understood why you had to go."

your voice stayed steady, "but that didn't mean it didn't hurt."

you looked around you, at the nature you had grown accustomed to, "i built a life that didn't require me to wait for anyone, because i couldn't afford to keep doing that."

"and when you came back," you added, softer now trying to keep your voice from breaking

"you didn't feel like someone returning. you felt like something i had already learned how to live without."

you saw it in him then—real understanding.

"and yet i still love you," you said voice finally cracking.

"even when i had to survive you not choosing me anymore."

zayne's gaze never left you, and when he finally spoke, his voice was lower than before.

"i didn't stop loving you," he said.

the words felt like they were finally escaping something that had held them too long.

"i love you, even when i didn't know how to say it properly. even when we were thousands of miles apart. even when we...broke up."

his hands tightened around yours, "i've always loved you and i don't want to go back to a life where i come and go from you like you're something temporary in my existence."

"i want to come home," he said softly. "not to linkon or the arctic...to you."

you stepped forward this time without hesitation. zayne met you halfway. not pulling too fast. not holding back either. just finally allowing the distance to close properly. and when you kissed him it wasn't fractured by timing or interruption. it was shared. his hand steadied at your waist like he was making a promise with his body as much as his words.

when you pulled back after a few moments, neither of you fully stepped away. your foreheads resting close and breath shared in the cold air. zayne closed his eyes briefly.

"i'm not leaving," he said quietly.

you studied him for a moment, hand resting brushing lightly against his cheek, "you already made that mistake once."

his grip on you tightened slightly, "i know but i will never make it again. i'm staying where i belong."

your reflection stared back at you through his green eyes, and for the first time in the past five years, you saw happiness in your expression.

"good because i am not letting you go." you said pressing your lips to his again. as your lips moved in tandem, the frozen ice stretched endlessly beneath you both, only this time it didn't feel like something separating anything at all. it felt like something that finally held strong.

It seems like every single university student has had the same idea of deciding to reduce their carbon footprint today, with everyone cramped in the same bus that you are in.

After a few “excuse me's”, you find refuge in a less crowded area and lean against the wall whilst you wait for the bus to get to your stop.

With the automated voice announcing your stop, a large chunk of the crowd gets off and you finally have enough personal space for the first time in twenty minutes.

You step down the steps, with your phone in hand whilst you follow the online map on your phone. The next instruction from your phone's map is to cross the road and like the law abiding citizen you are, you wait at the pedestrian crossing until the little man at the traffic light turns green.

With the sound of loud beeping filling the street, you walk towards the opposite side of the crossing. The map orientates itself whilst you change direction and another loud, blaring sound fills your ears.

Looking up to the cause of the sound, a speedy white car drives towards you. Running towards safety, you check the little man at the crossing, only to see that he is happily glowing green without a care in the world.

So much for a good start to the first day of university.

Walking up to the entrance, your eyes scan the building walls for a sign showing all the information about the rooms in the building. But just as lady luck would have it, nothing of said sign is found.

With loud conversations coming at you from left and right and your patience running thin, you decide to spare yourself more pain and walk up to the nearest person, praying silently that they know where your room is.

“Excuse me?” You tap the shoulder of a tall, black haired student. “Do you know where lecture hall C5 is?”

“Sorry, do you mind repeating that? It’s hard to hear what you’re saying over all this noise.” He asks, bringing his ear closer to you.

“Do you know where lecture hall C5 is?” You repeat, making your voice louder.

“It’s on the fifth floor, get on the lift, take a left and you should get there.” The man points to a set of grey, shiny doors and you quickly thank him before running off into the lift.

The lift stops at the fifth floor after picking up and dropping off people at every single floor and as soon as the doors open, you squeeze past others on the lift, mumbling a few apologies before dashing to the left to get to your room.

Doors are plastered with signs that all begin with E, but no C5. You do a quick 360 degree spin, only to be met with more rooms that are also E. Checking the time on your watch, you feel your heart sink knowing that the lecture has officially started.

There goes your chance at making a good first impression, you will forever be known as the student who was late on the first day. You sigh and walk back to the lift doors.

Your eyes wander and you find yourself finally looking at the information board. Level 3: lecture halls C1 to C31. Better late than never.

Heart pounding, you slowly open the door in an attempt to not draw attention to yourself but it betrays you, making a loud squeaking sound that proudly announces your presence. Bracing yourself for an embarrassing conversation with the professor in front of the whole class, you anxiously hold your breath.

But the professor says nothing, only staring at you with their eyebrow raised at your terrible punctuality before continuing on about something to do with what textbooks they recommend borrowing from the library.

Your eyes search the area for a free seat, finding one at the opposite end of the row that you're standing next to. “Excuse me, sorry, can I get through please?” You quietly ask, feeling the embarrassment wash over you.

The person looks up to face you, and all embarrassment is quickly replaced with anger. It’s the guy who gave the wrong directions to this room.

He shakes his head, frowning at you before grabbing his backpack to make space for you to squeeze through the little space for you to get to the free seat at the end of the row.

What kind of ass of a person gives someone the wrong directions and proceeds to act cocky?

Making it to the end of the row, you sit down on the free chair with a growing feeling that you found someone to keep an eye out for.

The hour quickly ends, filled with what to expect during the upcoming academic year, to who you can go to if you need any extra support. Everyone makes a beeline for the exit, eager to make friends on the first day.

But you? You follow the person who has ruined the first impression that the professor has of you.

Petty? Without a doubt. But extremely necessary.

“Excuse me?” You tap the shoulder of a familiar black buttoned up man who turns around. “I understand medical school is competitive and all, but don't you think it's completely unnecessary to purposely lead a fellow medical student to the wrong room on the very first day?”

“I'm sorry, but were you not the person who asked a fellow student for directions? Don't you think you should have asked a receptionist or at least have better observational skills on an important day like this? Maybe then, you wouldn't have needed to ask me in such a crowded corridor and misheard me.” He sighs.

“It might be difficult for you to believe, but I am not the type of person who would purposely sabotage someone else over a matter like this.” Despite this being your second conversation with him, you tell that he was being genuine.

But you’re too far deep into hating him. “Well then,” You glance at the name tag stuck on his chest.

“Zayne Li. Why did you shake your head at me when I came in late?” You cross your arms over your chest. “How am I meant to believe you? This is our second conversation after all. How are you going to prove it?”

“I had a neck cramp. But if you don't believe me, then that's on you. I know that I’m right and somewhere deep down, you know it too. Now if you will excuse me, I have somewhere to be.” He says, adjusting his backpack straps and makes his way to the exit.

“Does anyone have any questions?” The professor asks, pulling the microphone away from her mouth but not quick enough for a quiet sigh to reach the speakers.

The rest of the class groan and some place their heads on the desks, as they prepare themselves to stay back for an extra ten minutes.

Your hand shoots up quickly and you try to find a certain someone’s hand somewhere in the large crowd of people. The professor gestures for you to ask first. “Do you have any extra resources that you recommend for extra reading?”

“Yes, it will be attached to the email when I send out next week’s readings.” She says and points to Zayne.

“Do you know of any recent research papers that I could look through?”

“I will email them to you separately.” The professor sits down on the chair, making it very obvious that she is going to have an incoming headache.

You raise your hand. “Yes Y/n, I will email you the same thing.” You meekly lower your hand.

“Do you have any more questions?”

“Will there be an opportunity for extra credit?” Zayne asks, and the professor shakes her head and dismisses everyone in the lecture hall.

You grab your bag and find Simone and Tara in the swarm of people, making your way to the exit of the hall. “I don’t understand, why does he keep trying to one-up me?” Tara pats your shoulder comfortingly and Simone just sighs.

“Did I just hear you say that you didn't understand something, L/n?” Zayne approaches you with what seems to be amusement.

The stupid expression on his face is practically begging for you to slap it right off.

“What on earth do you want, Li?” You look at him, clearly annoyed. “Why are you even here in the first place? Don't you have to be in the library or something?”

“I do actually, why? Are you that interested in me to the point where you know my schedule down to the second?” He replies, clearly amused at your expression.

“Bold of you to assume that I would pay that much interest towards you.” You scoff. “I just know that your antisocial ass willingly locks yourself in the library until the librarian kicks you out of the building.”

“Glad to know that I spend more time studying than you. Clearly, I know where my priorities lie.” Zayne replies.

“That's because you study inefficiently. A lecture that would take you four hours would take me less than half the amount of time to learn. Besides, I actually have a life outside studying. Speaking of which,” You check your phone for the time. “we have to go to make the lunch reservation we made!” Tara and Simone look at you wide eyed, completely forgetting about your shared lunch plans.

Zayne stares as you quickly forget about him, walking away with Simone and Tara chatting about the restaurant’s new seasonal menu.

You sit in the massive lecture hall, your laptop sitting on the desk, bright as a flashlight in order to keep yourself from falling asleep in the lecture. Tara sits on your left, shopping online for crystals and tarot cards whilst Simone somehow plays a random RPG game with the volume muted.

“We have a simulated case to end this lecture.” Your ears perk up. “Patient is a female, two years old and has been diagnosed with ADHD and has come in with her parents over concerns of a deviated eye. What test would you do after a case history is done?”

You raise your hand without any hesitation, keen to be the first one to get the answer right. The professor points towards you. “You would do a cover test first.”

“Yes, you could do a cover test first. Is there anyone else with another answer?” Your professor asks the rest of the class whilst you tilt your head in confusion. What other test would you do first apart from cover test?

“You could test their visual acuity.” You hear a familiar voice that never fails to get your blood pressure rising.

“Yes, you could do a visual acuity test first, Zayne.” You shake your head in disbelief. “Y/n, can you explain why you believe that a cover test should be done first?”

You clear your throat, “The results from the cover test would help confirm if the patient actually has a deviated eye or if it could be pseudostrabismus. In the case that the patient did have a deviated eye, it may help with expectations about what their visual acuity could be.”

Your professor nods, her hair bouncing as her head moves. “Zayne? What do you think?”

“Doing a visual acuity test can help with predictions about what you are roughly able to expect in a cover test, predicting which eye is the non-fixing eye. The patient has ADHD and is young, so it may be more beneficial to do the visual acuity test whilst they are cooperative.” Your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“Do you have any counterpoints to Zayne's point, Y/n?” You nod, smiley politely in response before staring down the insane maniac across the lecture hall who thinks doing a visual acuity test should be done first.

“It is imperative that you understand if the patient truly has a deviation.” You cross your arms over your chest.

You take a deep breath in, trying to not let Zayne's foolish and idiotic words get the best of you. “If the patient does lose focus and cooperation, you will be able to get a vague estimation of their visual acuity using a photoscreener.”

From across the hall, you notice him pinch the bridge of his nose in annoyance. It only makes you straighten your shoulders proudly in victory.

“Alright. I can tell that you are both very passionate about this, however if you do want to continue this, please do so in your spare time. The varied answers suggest that you can do either of the tests first, as long as you have the evidence to back up your point. That ends this lecture today everyone, I will see you next week.”

You shove your laptop into your bag completely leaving behind Simone and Tara, keen on finding the man who enjoys sending you into an academic rage. He stands outside the door to the lecture hall, absentmindedly checking the time on his watch.

“So as a practitioner, you would do the visual acuity test first. Interesting. Definitely a unique way of doing an appointment with a patient.” You say, and he looks up from his shiny watch.

“I didn't explicitly say I would do the visual acuity test first— I was simply answering the professor's question. But if we are assuming that I would do a visual acuity test over a cover test, then yes, I do see the benefits. Using the photoscreener can only get you so far, as it is a vague estimation meaning that the results it produces will not be one hundred percent correct. Just like you mentioned earlier.”

Motherfucker is putting the words into my mouth.

“Why get a vague estimation when you can get reliable results?”

“As long as you get both of the tests done before any other test and the results recorded, nobody is going to ask you which one you decided to do first!” You hear a familiar rushed voice and turning around, you see Tara and Simone who look like they could use a week long holiday.

“Now come on, Y/n! We have another lecture to get to in ten minutes!” Tara says whilst Simone gets a hold of your arm, ready to drag you around campus herself if needed.

“Okay, let me just say one more thing and then we can go.” Tara and Simone look at each other hesitantly before nodding. “Why do you enjoy making my academic life hell?” You ask, causing Zayne to press his lips together.

“Because you enjoy doing the same.” He replies ever so nonchalantly, as if it was the most obvious statement in the world.

Unfortunately, you cannot fathom the fact that he is correct for once, so you bite your tongue whilst Simone proceeds to grab onto your arm and drag you like a doll to the next lecture.

The sound of people discussing their test scores fills the room, with some celebrating and other sighing in their seats. Your hands become damp with sweat and you rub them against the material of your trousers underneath the table.

The professor hands you your test, a smile graced on her face. “Well done, Y/n. You should be very proud of yourself.”

“Thank you.” You take the test sheet, looking at the circled 99% at the top of the paper. She walks off, handing the next test to Zayne.

He smiles at her and his warm smile turns dark as he makes eye contact with you. It's filled with nothing but sarcasm and potential to scar an innocent child.

“If you haven't noticed, I gave out the tests from lowest to highest. If anyone has any questions, you can come to my office during office hours or email me. Enjoy your weekend, see you next Monday.” You sit in your seat, staring at the test sheet in denial.

How on earth did you manage to lose to Zayne? By one point?

Sighing, you fold your sheet into half before shoving it into your pocket and heading out the door as inconspicuously as possible.

“L/n.” You roll your eyes, recognising the pride in Zayne's voice instantly. “Getting 98 is an amazing score. You should be very proud of yourself.”

98? Turning around to face his smug face, you quickly glance at the sheet Zayne holds in his hand. 99.

“Actually, I got a 99. I didn't get a 98, Li.” You point to his sheet. “You got a 99 too. You should be very proud of yourself, what a great achievement!” You clasp your hands together, applauding for him.

The smug look on his face disappears, only to be replaced with a feeling you believe to be annoyance. “I see. We both got the highest score on the exam then. What question did you get wrong?” Flicking through the pages, you find the question marked wrong and show him.

“If a patient has nasal corneal reflections, they…” He reads, scanning the paper. “Do not have an esotropia.” He looks up. “They have an exotropia, obviously.”

“Obviously.” You reply, looking over to the side. “I just misread the answers. Now, show me your answers.”

Zayne hands you his paper and you grin when you find the question marked wrong. “Protanopia is caused by not enough energy being transduced or the complete absence of which cone pigment? You answered: M cones.” You laugh, covering it up as a bad cough.

“The answer is L cones. I just also happened to misread the answers too. I believe your mistake was much worse than mine. If a child with a limited attention span only let you do corneal reflections on them and you say they have an esotropia instead of an exotropia, it could cause confusion for other healthcare workers who will see their notes.”

“Yes, of course. If you order the wrong colour correcting glasses for a patient— imagine the distress on their face when they realise their doctor has made a mistake and they have to wait even longer to see full colour vision. Absolutely terrible.” Zayne sighs, taking back his test paper.

“Good thing we are still students, right?” You plaster a fake smile on your face. “We have so much to learn before treating our lovely patients, don't we?”

“Welcome to Akso Hospital!” A grey haired man says cheerfully, a smile adorned on his face.

“I understand that you may have many questions and your consultants will be able to explain without even breaking a sweat.” He chuckles and points to a group of senior doctors standing in front of you.

“When you arrived this morning, you were allocated a number and are now separated into groups. Each group represents a certain speciality, such as psychiatrists, dermatologists and so on. These are the people who you will be training with during your time at Akso, so get on their good side!” You turn around and face your fellow general surgeons, giving them a polite, friendly smile.

You make eye contact with a familiar green, hazel eyed man. Your smile immediately becomes stiff, as if your jaw has automatically clicked into place.

Zayne is in the same group as you. Zayne is going to be training with you.

A tall brown haired woman walks up to your group, smiles and introduces herself as the consultant general surgeon. “I understand that not all of you will be staying as general surgeons, as some of you will branch off into other surgical specialities after you complete your core surgical training. But I look forward to working with each and every one of you.”

You only have one year of this general surgeon training and then you go off into neurosurgery. One year is nothing.

The consultant leads the way to the shared office of all core training general surgeons, and shows important things: the uncomfortable beds you would sleep in during night shifts and the fancy coffee machine. She quickly leaves, letting everyone get to know each other.

You immediately turn around to face Zayne. “I really thought this would be a new chapter where you would not be in it. What are the chances we are both doing this core training together?” A fake smile is plastered on your face.

“Luckily, it’s only for a year since I’ll be going into neurosurgery after the training.”

“Good to know. I’ll be doing cardiac surgery after this year.” You nod, not wanting to contribute more to the extremely lacklustre conversation.

After making your rounds, you decide to spend time with the younger patients. To your surprise, Zayne is there too, busy tending to a stuffed penguin's injured wing.

You sit down on the round tea table where a little girl pours fake tea into her teacups for her plushies. “What’s your name, sweetheart? May I have some tea as well please?” She nods happily, eagerly passing you a teacup whilst introducing herself as Daisy.

You quickly learn she likes strawberries and she's very curious about being a doctor. “Dr L/n, is the brain or heart more important?”

“Well both are very important, but I think the brain is more important than the heart.” You reply and Daisy hums, going back to her teacups. Daisy gives you another teacup of tea but before your hand touches the handle, you hear footsteps making its way to the table.

You look up to the owner of the footsteps, only to see Zayne siting down at the table. “Daisy, can I tell you something?” He asks the little girl who nods in agreement. “Dr L/n is wrong about the brain being more important than the heart. I think that the heart is more important than the brain.”

What on earth is he doing?

“Really, Doctor Li? Why is the heart more important than the brain?” Daisy asks, very intrigued at this new opinion.

“The heart pumps blood to all of the important things in the body, like your lungs and your brain. If the heart doesn't pump your blood to the important places in your body, you’re going to get very tired very quickly.” Zayne says with a smile, specifically targeted at you.

If he wants to play this game, then I’ll fucking play along.

“Then Dr L/n, why do you think that the brain is more important than the heart?” Daisy looks up at you, completely unaware of this emotional tug-of-war she unintentionally created.

“Your brain is very smart Daisy! Your brain is always telling your heart to keep on pumping the blood to the rest of your body so you can stay healthy and strong.” You say, a smile plastered on your face as you look at Zayne.

“Your heart helps you show all the love you have for your friends and family. Do you feel happy when you give friends hugs?” Zayne asks, and Daisy agrees. “It’s your heart that tells you to be happy when you give your friends hugs.”

So he is playing the emotional card. Two can play at this game, Li.

“Daisy?” You call out her name and she averts her gaze to you. “Can you tell me about a fun day you had with your friends?”

“When me and my friends went to the park and we played at the playground all day!” She smiles happily.

“Well sweetheart, your brain remembers all the happy memories you have had with your friends. So whenever you feel sad, you can think about the fun day you had at the park and you will be happy again.” You say and Daisy runs off to find one of her friends.

“I guess the brain is more important than the heart.” You smirk at Zayne and stand up behind the tiny chair, ready to grab a coffee.

“Well if the brain stopped working and the heart kept pumping, at least you would still be alive.” Zayne replies casually, tucking his chair under the table.

“Alive, sure. But living like a normal person? No way in hell.” You say in a hushed tone, not trying to attract attention from the ever-so curious children in the room. “What would you do if you had no brain? You wouldn’t be able to learn about your silly little heart if you didn’t have anywhere to apply the knowledge to in the first place.”

“Well for someone who surely advocates for the brain, you clearly don’t use it enough. Whilst you were doing rounds earlier today, I overheard the consultant asking you why you forgot to bring a notepad along with you. How embarrassing.” He chuckles and you scowl at him.

Just as you were going to answer back, you notice Greyson and Yvonne, two of your fellow surgeons approach you and Zayne.

“Okay that’s enough arguing for the day. The kids are staring.” Yvonne holds your arm, leads you away from Zayne and into the office to calm down.

You sit near the nurses’ station, a cup of coffee nearby as you read the medical history of your next patient arriving in twenty minutes. The atmosphere is peaceful, the nurses are typing away on their keyboards and the sound of baby sensory videos can be heard from the waiting area.

As you bring the cup of coffee up to your lips, a loud voice interrupts the peace. “What do you mean I cannot donate my liver?” You turn around to check where the voice is coming from and see the sign that has Zayne’s name on it.

Muffled speech can be heard from Zayne, most likely trying to calm down an angry family member. The sound of a hand aggressively hitting the desk resonates throughout the floor, causing even the focused children to peel their eyes away from their dancing fruit videos.

The handle of the door opens, revealing a middle aged man who is far from happy. He makes his way over to the nurses station. “Get me another fucking doctor. This guy doesn't know shit. You doctors keep going on about how difficult it is to find a donor that matches but when a matching person comes along, it’s not possible to donate?” The nurses desperately try to calm him down, explaining to him that this is not the place for explicit language.

“Do I look like I’m playing around? I want another doctor!”

“Excuse me sir, what seems to be the problem?” Getting out of your seat, you make your way over to the nurses’ station, gripping onto your white coat like a lifeline.

“This guy told me I couldn't donate my liver to my sister who is on her deathbed!” He angrily points at Zayne who says nothing. “Please doctor, I just want to help her. Tell me I can donate my liver to her.” He pleads, his countenance softening ever so slightly.

“Is there a specific reason he can’t donate his liver?” You look at Zayne.

“He has a liver with a fifteen percent fat content. I have explained to him that the limit is ten percent, as any more can put the recipient at more risk.” Zayne sighs and you frown, immediately knowing that nothing can be done.

“I’m sorry sir, but Doctor Li is right. You may be able to donate in the future but you will have to decrease the fat content through lifestyle choices such as exercise, a balanced diet and refraining from alcohol.”

“All you doctors sound like a broken record! I thought this was the best hospital in the city and you can’t accept my liver? Fucking bullshit.” Over his shoulder, the security comes over and harshly grabs him.

“Let me go!” He tries escaping, only to be pulled away. “Just wait until my lawyer hears about this. I will sue this hospital so badly that the only medicine you will give is paracetamol!” The man shouts even louder until he’s no longer in sight.

You look at Zayne who sighs for the nth time today. “Penny for your thoughts?” He seems like he could need a helping hand, just this once.

“I just find it hard to empathise with people who behave in that manner. I understand that I am fortunate to have not been in a position like that in the past, but when a doctor tells you there is no loophole or way to work around it, isn't it time to face the truth?”

“Well, I think you’re looking at it from a medical personnel perspective. You're trying to face the problem as someone who is only able to give proper solutions. But have you tried facing the problem as someone who could lose a precious family member? You saw the way he softened when he mentioned how all he wanted to do was to help his sister. He just wants to do the best he can.”

“You’re right. Thank you.” Zayne concedes.

“It’s time for my next appointment. See you around.” You nod your head as a goodbye, walking off to your consultation room.

You close the door, setting up your desk for the next patient, trying to make it look presentable after rummaging through the mismatched files when a senior doctor requested an extra copy to read through before surgery.

With all the papers finally stacked into neat piles and tucked away into a corner to worry about later, the door opens with one of the nurses asking if you are ready.

You clear your throat and nod, bringing up the results of the patient as they come in. “Hello, Doctor L/n. It’s nice to see you again.” You look up and smile, making sure that Oliver feels comfortable in the chair.

“How have you been?” You ask, placing your hands on the desk.

“I've been doing well. I have been consistently taking my medication and I try my best to eat and sleep well.”

“That's great news to hear!” You reply, looking at the results on the computer in front of you. “The results from last week's blood results look great too, so there should be nothing to worry about. Do you have any questions for me?”

“I'm quite nervous. Like a kidney transplant is a big thing. I know I'll be in safe hands and all, but I just can't help but feel this sense of anxiety.” Oliver rubs his hands together nervously.

“It is not a minor surgery, that I can tell you with certainty. I can't confirm that everything will go smoothly since surgery is unpredictable but I will be in the room, assisting in the surgery and I will do my absolute best. The road to recovery may not be easy, but once you have fully recovered, the freedom will be like nothing else you have ever felt before.”

“Thank you, Doctor L/n. I trust you.” The words make your heart swell with a strange mix of pride and sadness.

Oliver is the same age as you and it feels like a sick twist of fate knowing that he has endured so much pain yet still does his best to carry on. If you were in the same situation as him, you wouldn't be half as calm and collected as he is.

He constantly brings sweet treats for the staff, ranging from brownies to cupcakes despite it being prohibited to accept any type of gifts from patients. No matter how hard you try to politely decline, Oliver refuses to take no for answer and threatens to stay longer at the hospital.

How could you make a man who spends almost all of his time at the hospital stay even longer? It's pretty unfair to say to other patients that you have favourites, but Oliver is definitely one of them.

“I will do my best to ensure that you trust in me never wavers.” You put on a smile, trying to stay professional despite the feeling of melancholy bloom.

“Considering that the test results look good, there should be no reason to push back the surgery. I will get the paperwork done and ensure that you are admitted for surgery next Monday. Of course, if you have any questions, please feel free to reach out to me or any member of staff.”

Finishing the last consultation of the shift, you close the door behind you and make your way to the shared office, only to see your fellow surgeons crowded near the door.

“Why are you guys all crowded around the door like chipmunks?” They all turn around, facing you as if they have just seen a ghost.

“You scared us! We thought you were someone important, you know, like the hospital director.”

“Geez, that’s nice to know. But you still haven't answered my question.”

“Zayne is listening to what the consultant has to say after the whole liver transplant thing from today.” Greyson says, and you peep through the small window to see him nodding as the consultant continues to talk.

“I need to go in.” You announce to the group whilst they stare at you like you have suggested to do surgery blindfolded.

“No way. Do you want to get yourself into trouble too?” They crowd around the handle of the door, preventing you from going in.

“I was there whilst it happened. Not for the whole thing, but I was the one the patient talked to after they requested another doctor to talk to. I need to hear what the consultant has to say, it’s not just his fault— it’s mine too.” One by one, the group hesitantly disperses.

You knock on the door. “Who is it?” The consultant asks, not taking her eyes off of Zayne.

“It’s Y/n. Can I come in, please?” The door opens in front of you. Zayne stares like a baby deer in headlights whilst you stand opposite the consultant.

“From what I’ve heard, you were also there whilst the patient’s outburst occurred. Can you tell me things from your side of the story?”

You give your side of the story, starting with the shouting in Zayne's room and ending with the threat of suing the hospital, with paracetamol being the only thing that could be administered to patients.

“Well, at least your stories match.” She sighs.

“Wait, before whatever punishment you give us, can I just say something?” You ask and she nods.

“I understand that the patient’s sibling has every right to be frustrated. But it doesn't excuse the fact that he was incredibly rude. Not just to us, but to the other staff too.”

“I’m not mad, you two. You did everything right. You handled it as well as you could have done. Personally, I don't think there should be any consequences. It’s only your second month working in this massive hospital after all. But tensions were high and many patients were scared of what could have happened next. Higher ups have received complaints. There’s a disciplinary meeting scheduled for tonight. I’ll be there as support. I won't let anything bad happen.”

“Thank you, Doctor Zhou.” Zayne says and you thank her too as she leaves the room. “You didn't need to come in, L/n.”

“I know, but it helps clear things up.” You fiddle with the sleeve of your scrubs.

“I could have handled it fine myself but thank you. For everything you’ve done today. You really didn't need to.” He coughs, an awkward air rising in the room.

“Of course. Just because we have some history doesn't mean we can't look out for each other, especially in moments like these.” You smile sheepishly.

The atmosphere becomes even more awkward, this feeling being uncharted territory between you and Zayne.

“Besides, suing the hospital is bad for both of us. I don't think I want to feel the wrath of patients when I tell them they can have paracetamol as their only form of pain relief.” You laugh, trying to deflect this weird feeling in your heart.

Walking out of the conference room, Doctor Zhou catches up with you. “How are you taking the news?”

“It’s a lot better than I thought it would be. Luckily the mandatory seminar about dealing with patient behaviour is only two hours and there’s no pay cut.”

“At least you managed to find the silver lining.” Doctor Zhou chuckles and excuses herself after getting a phone call.

“What about the mandatory shifts for next week?” Zayne asks, and you wince in response.

“Yeah, I’m not looking forward to that. Might resort to downing just coffee powder.” You grimace, imagining yourself with dishevelled hair running on half an hour of sleep.

“It’s going to take a lot of self restraint to not shout at you in front of the entire ward when you do something that pushes my buttons.”

“Glad to know that the feeling is mutual.” Zayne bores his eyes into yours before walking away.

With the late hours of the night settling in, so does the orders and requests from other members of hospital staff. You step into the on call room, shrugging off your white coat on one of the chairs.

The door opens with your fellow colleagues ready to take a quick but very much needed nap. You slip off your shoes in front of one of the lower bed bunks and remove your hair clip.

“Doctor L/n. I'm really sorry but may I sleep on the bottom bunk?” You glance back to see Zayne, adjusting his glasses.

“I'm sorry Doctor Li, but no. It feels like all of the life has been drained out of me by an energy seeking vampire. I quite literally do not have the body strength to climb the flimsy ladder up to the top bunk.”

“I understand that, but I think it would be best if I was to sleep on the bottom bunk. It's more convenient, I am taller and the lower bunk is longer— I can fully extend my legs only on the bottom bunk.” But before you can even open your mouth, he continues. “I have spent more time of this shift on my feet than you have, Doctor L/n.”

“I refuse to believe that, Doctor Li.” You hiss. “I'm sorry that you believe that you are more entitled to the bottom bunk, but I was assisting in a seven hour surgery this morning. I didn't even have the luxury to have my lunch, I was called into another surgery before I could even sit my ass down on a chair. Mind you, it's eleven in the evening so the last time I have put food in my system was over twelve hours ago.” You point to the ladder, gesturing for him to climb up it.

“You may have been assisting in multiple surgeries, but I had go over two dozen patient appointments today. Not to mention, I was tasked with fixing your patient charts because of how unorganised they were. So yes, I do believe I am entitled to the bottom bunk.” You roll your eyes, but with little reaction from Zayne due to the dim lighting in the room.

So what? He's been sat on a chair whilst you have been standing for hours on end. “I will sleep on the top bunk. Now please, save your voices. Fight each other at another time for all I care, go get some sleep.” A groggy voice complains.

Greyson hobbles out of bed and quietly murmurs about how you can both sleep on the bottom bunk before climbing up the ladder.

You quickly slot yourself between the gap of the bottom bunk, laying down on the bed as your back finally relaxes and the sound of Zayne sighing brings a tired grin on your face as he walks to the other bottom bunk bed.

“Eat.” You remove your hands from your head to see Zayne, tossing a sad sandwich on the table.

Having finished assisting in Oliver's surgery which lasted an extra two hours because of a complication, you don't have the energy to complain about how you don't even like mustard, gnawing at the sandwich.

You swallow dryly, the food passing through you like worn out sandpaper. “Why did you give me this?” You ask Zayne, who tears his tired gaze from his equally sad excuse of a sandwich.

“Everyone in the operating room could hear your stomach even when the suction was being used. You need to eat.” He says and you feel the blood rushing to your cheeks in response.

You eat your sandwich, staring out of the window.

This is a first. For someone who was extremely determined to get the bottom bunk, it's like being with a completely different person. You always hear him going off on patient's about how important it is to eat well so that they have a faster recovery.

How strange.

Attending rounds whilst half asleep should be illegal. But you don't have a say in the rules, so you begrudgingly follow the rest of the surgical trainees as Doctor Zhou leads the rounds for the morning.

You have nobody but your phone to blame, the alarm on the stupid thing only went off twenty minutes before you had to arrive to the hospital. That and adding not having your daily cup of coffee to keep you functioning like a normal human, your eyes only get more droopier as the patients drift off into a silence to think about their pain levels.

The cases are quite easy to understand, so the only hard thing should be staying awake. “Doctor L/n, can you tell me anything you notice about this patient?” You barely recognise your name. feeling a slight nudge against your lower arm which jolts you awake.

Quickly scanning the room, you notice the relatively fast heartbeat on the monitor. “The patient has a heart rate of 120 beats per minute with an abnormal P wave following each QRS complex.”

“Yes, correct. Can you tell me exactly what kind of tachycardia this is?” She nods, ticking off something on her clipboard.

Your mind goes blank. Looking back to the monitor, you scan the screen in hopes it jogs your memory. What type of tachycardia? This is a question even a medical student can answer!

The hushed sound of scribbling against a notepad next to you is nothing but distracting. You feel another tap against your lower arm, and realise it's Zayne. He subtly brings the piece of paper towards you, and you read the words.

“Focal atrial tachycardia.” You answer and Doctor Zhou nods, moving on to thank the patient for their time and end the long hour of rounding.

Walking back to the break room, you immediately head to the table and grab a mocha pod to put into the coffee machine. Walking to the cupboard to get your mug, you notice Zayne fixing his sleeves in the mirror.

You should thank him for saving you out there. But you hesitate. Perhaps when not as many people are around.

Grabbing your mug, you close the cupboard door and walk to the coffee machine, placing your mug down as you insert the pod into the machine. The machine buzzes to life, pouring in the frothy liquid ever so slowly.

Zayne still stands in front of the mirror but your feet are unwilling to move. Every single cell inside of you is screaming to walk up to him. You walk up to him, thank him for saving you and walk back, simple. So why the hesitation?

The sound of the machine beeping brings you out of your trance and you turn off the machine before bringing the cup of coffee up to your lips.

Looking up, Zayne disappears. The usual sweet taste of the chocolate and coffee now tastes bitter, burning on your tongue. Perhaps another time.

“Come with me to the cafeteria.” You hear a tired voice ask beside you.

“Sure.” You get out of your seat, grabbing your white coat. Zayne walks slowly, purposely waiting for you before you both leave the office in silence. “So… why ask me to come to the cafeteria with you?”

“Am I not allowed to ask my fellow colleague to eat dinner with me?” Zayne looks at you and you both step foot into the cafeteria.

“No— this week has been an absolute whirlwind: running on energy drinks and three hours of sleep is not normal. I think I have the right to ask if I am sane or hallucinating.” The staff places two scoops of rice into your plate and you smile as a quiet thank you.

“Well, we only have two more shifts left this week. Hopefully we survive.” Another member of staff places some vegetables and meat alongside your rice and you move down the line.

“As long as nobody has a cardiac arrest of some sort, then I think we will be okay.” You walk off to the dessert area to get a cupcake with Zayne in tow.

“How were you not stopped by some member of staff for all the desserts on your plate?” You look at Zayne’s plate holding a cupcake and strategically placed macarons to ensure none go tumbling off his plate.

“Confidence.” He shrugs. “Do you happen to be the dessert police in disguise?”

“I will call them over if you don’t let me have one of your macarons. Where did you even find them?” You threaten jokingly.

“Over by the end of the counter. Nobody stops by the end of the counter because it stops the line from moving and everyone is hungry enough as is.” Zayne pushes his small dessert plate in front of you and gestures for you to take one.

“Wait, you’re serious? You’re actually letting me have one of your precious macarons?” You gasp.

“Why are you reacting as if I have announced I will be participating in the Olympics for the ice skating division?”

“It’s just unexpected. Everyone knows how much you love desserts.” You slowly take one of the macarons and place it next to your cupcake.

“You’re acting like I despise you.” Zayne shoves a spoonful of rice into his mouth, acting like he hasn’t just set your brain into a spiral.

He is acting less hostile, in a sense. Maybe he actually doesn't despise me as much in comparison to medical school.

“I’m guessing from your confused expression that you’re wondering why I seem to tolerate being around you.”

“Are you a mind reader? Did you perhaps manage to evolve your evol into brain related functions too?” You exclaim, feeling somewhat exposed by his analysis.

“Unfortunately, no. How do you manage to make everything about the brain? You definitely chose the right speciality.” He questions and you continue to stare at him.

“Let’s backtrack a bit, mister cardiac surgeon-to-be. When did you suddenly get the ability to tolerate me?” You place your hands in front of him, clearly taken aback.

“When you asked me how I was feeling after the patient interaction on the liver transplant. I was just expecting you to just brush it off or question why he got into such a rowdy mood but you didn’t— you just listened.”

“I guess that was quite nice of me.” You pick at the food on your plate. “You know, it's definitely a lot easier to be around you and tolerate your presence.” Zayne tilts his head, confused.

“I guess you softened me up. I think it happened when you started offering me sandwiches. I hear you constantly nag at patients for not eating well because you just want the best for them. But that doesn't mean that all of the hate is gone, it’s a lot to go from hating each other's guts to acting somewhat civil with each other. This doesn't stop me from calling you an idiot whenever you deserve to be called one.”

“Noted. Now keep eating, your food is going to get cold.”

For what is probably the hundredth time this week, you read through another patient chart, making annotations of things to ask during the consultation on your worn-out notepad.

The last few hours of this horrendous one week shift finally approaches. But in true hospital fashion, the emergency button goes off and the nurses rush into the room, with you following close behind. Nurses quickly convince the family to leave, despite their loud pleas and cries to stay.

You turn to face the critical patient, ready to assess what the next step of action is but stop in your tracks. Oliver.

The feeling of dizziness suddenly overwhelms you, locking you in an unwelcoming hug that you can't seem to shake out of. You feel your knees buckle slightly, steadying yourself against some random piece of equipment.

It feels like the oxygen in the room and your lungs is quickly depleting, leaving you lightheaded and breathless. In a strong state of denial, you trying to snap yourself out of this state of helplessness, staggering to Oliver's bed.

Words come out of your mouth— probably some kind of weak attempt to bark orders at the nurses but they look at you in despair and confusion. “He's having a seizure. Can someone get me some lorezapam please?” A voice shouts out, slightly bringing you out of your daze.

The sound of loud rustling can be heard and you watch as the figure administer the drug. “Doctor L/n, can you hear me?” A warm hand is placed on the side of your upper arm and you muster up the strength to look up. Zayne. “Doctor L/n, Oliver needs you. I can't do this alone.” Flickering your eyes up at him, you notice the worry etched into his eyebrows.

But you don't have time to worry about it, especially not now. As if a switch was turned on, you snap out of your hazy state. “Remove anything tight that might restrict him.” The nurses nod and you hastily remove the blanket covering his body.

“Oliver, this is Doctor L/n. I'm here. You're at Akso Hospital and you're safe.” Oliver's movements stop shortly after, the lorezapam quickly going into effect.

You slowly get him into the recovery position and he slowly opens his eyes, blinking at you. He's okay. After going through the necessary checks post seizure, you leave the room and your back hits the wall. A stray tear escapes out of your eye and you hastily dab the ends of your sleeve to hide the wetness rolling down your cheek.

“This is all my fault.” You mutter under your breath.

“No it's not.” Shocked that someone heard your moment of self depreciation, your eyes flicker to the owner of the voice. “You did your best.”

“Even if it's not my fault, I lied to Oliver. I told him that I would do my best. What I did back in there was not my best. Look at him now.” You glance into Oliver's room, one of the nurses accompanying him for the night.

“I know that Oliver is more than thankful for you. He knows that you care deeply for him as a patient and I'm sure that when he recovers, he will greet you with a smile.” Zayne says, looking through the glass of Oliver's room.

“You saw what I did out there whilst he was having a seizure. What kind of doctor has a massive breakdown whilst their patient could be knocking on death's door? You aren't always going to be there whilst I have another breakdown in front of another patient. Imagine what could happen? It won't be anyone else's fault but mine.”

“This isn't permanent. You will eventually find a way to confront this fear of yours and only then will you be able to forgive yourself.” Zayne says and you don't even have the strength to look him the eyes, only blankly staring at his worn out shoes.

“How about we go to the break room? We don't need to talk about it but it would be good to at least sit down.” You nod, standing up straight as you lift yourself off the wall and walk to the room with your head down.

Making it to the break room, you sit down on a random chair and sit back. Zayne opens the mini fridge and places your water bottle onto the desk in front of you. Not having the strength to speak, you give him a slight nod before drinking from the straw. The cold water quenches a hidden thirst and you feel your lost will to live slowly come back.

After a much deserved rest of four days, the ability to function like a normal human being has returned. Tasks that felt extremely monotone during the seven days of night shift in a row now had meaning to them and were much more enjoyable to do.

You pull back the changing curtain, smoothing out the faint creases on your scrubs. Zayne stands beside the table, removing his watch. “Here.” Zayne passes you an iced coffee.

“Thanks.” You take the coffee from him, before fixing your messy hair in the mirror.

“No sassy remark?” You turn your head to see a confused Zayne. “Not even a question asking why I decided to give you a coffee?”

“Maybe it will come back to me after I finish fixing my hair. Do you want me to ask why you decided to randomly bring me a coffee?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“No. But I definitely was expecting a more sarcastic response.” He grabs his notebook. “I’ll see you later.”

During the brief encounter you had with one of the nurses, you find out that Oliver has rapidly improved after the incident on the last day of your torturous one week shift.

With twenty minutes left before the first appointment of the day, you make your way to his room. Knocking on the door, you hear a soft “come in,” from Oliver and you twist the handle. There sits Oliver, propped up on a pillow as the television plays quietly in the background. He looks at you and a smile graces his lips.

“Doctor L/n. I'm really sorry for scaring everyone with my seizure a few days ago. Before you say anything else, I just want to say that I am really thankful for everyone, especially you. I know that you went through a lot last week and I don't want you to think about any of those feel bad thoughts that might be troubling you.” You feel the tension dissipate from your body as you finally find a sense of closure.

“Thank you for recovering Oliver.” You smile and your gaze drifts to the clock above his bed. “I don't have much time left before I have to leave, but is there anything that I can get you before I go?”

“It's a bit cold, would it be possible to get another blanket?” You nod, excusing yourself before heading to the storage closet.

Pushing the door of the storage closet open, a familiar set of shoulders greets you as you step inside. The storage closet is extremely small, the space is just about enough to fit one person.

Having two people is practically invading personal space.

“You could have just waited outside like everyone else does when they see someone in here.” Zayne's voice breaks the sound of equipment being rummaged through.

So much for mood swings, he was somewhat bearable about five minutes ago.

“I could have. But you know very well by now that I enjoy bringing you misery. Could you pass me a blanket whilst you're at it?” You grin. Zayne sighs, but opens up a box and hands you the blanket before going back to retrieving whatever he needed.

“This is one of the small blankets, could you get me a medium or a large one instead?”

“Do you see me as some kind of butler? You are very capable of getting it yourself.” He looks behind his shoulder, his eyebrows furrowed.

“So you do see me as capable! Only took you about six years to recognise it.” You place a hand on your chest, pretending to feel touched by his sarcastic compliment.

Feeling very pleased with yourself, you scooch past him, replacing the small blanket for a large one. You squeeze past him, ready to stretch your limbs freely again.

“So much for having a civil relationship.” Zayne mutters under his breath, but the proximity between you allows you to easily hear him. “This is not how acquaintances act around each other.” He pulls out a small plastic box and turns around, bumping into you.

You say nothing, suddenly realising how little space there is between you and Zayne. You don't think you have ever gotten this close to someone since your relationships in college. Maybe it's the unwelcoming memories of things that you have done with someone this close, but you feel your heart rate begin to quicken.

“So you consider us to be acquaintances?”

“I would assume so, especially since we have agreed to be civil with each other. Not exactly friendly acquaintances but acquaintances nonetheless.” Your grip on the blanket tightens ever so slightly.

“Does this mean my acquaintance will allow me to leave this prison cell of a storage room?” You tilt your head up at him.

“Of course.” He shuffles awkwardly, almost lying flat against the shelves. You don't spare him another glance and open the door, heading to Oliver's room.

“Here's your blanket.” You pass Oliver the soft material.

“Sorry for the wait, it took me a while to actually find one in the right size.”

“Thank you, Doctor L/n.” He unfolds the blanket. “Are you okay, by the way? Your face looks a bit flushed.”

Within the second month of settling in to the hospital, you are immediately seen as experienced. You absolutely beg to differ, considering how you only recently discovered that the television screen in the reception area could actually display something other than the news.

However, that doesn't stop one of the first year medical students from following you around the ward like you are their mother duck— they have essentially imprinted on you. With this built up trust, they confidently ask you to sign off their competency forms.

You smile and sit down next to the desk, grabbing a pen. "Thank you so much for signing these forms, Doctor L/n. You are single handedly saving me from getting scolded by my clinical tutor.” He sighs, his shoulders visibly relaxing.

“No problem, I remember feeling the exact same way when I first started placements.” You chuckle, signing off the date and your signature at the bottom of the paper.

“Were the wards always this quiet when you first started off? I feel like it hasn't been very busy today.” He innocently asks.

Your grip on the pen tightens, and you slowly exhale all the breath in your lungs. “Not always. But it will become busy very soon." The innocent medical student tilts his head in confusion.

“How do you know, Doctor L/n?”

“Whenever someone mentions how quiet the ward is, emergencies happen within the next five minutes.” You see the colour drain from the his face. “Don't worry, just make sure to not make the same mistake for next time and prepare yourself for the chaos.” You pat his shoulder and leave his forms on the table.

Walking up to the reception, you hear the sound of rapid footsteps to one of the patient rooms and you immediately follow the sound. As soon as you enter, you see Doctor Zhou removing her white coat and you quickly realise the patient is going into a cardiac arrest.

Greyson and Zayne rush in, with Zayne standing next to you and you impatiently await Doctor Zhou's instructions. “The two closest to the door grab the crash cart and anyone else who is left, switch compressions on the patient with me after two minutes.” Doctor Zhou instructs and you quickly assess your position in the room, realising you and Zayne are closest to the door.

Without wasting a second, you rush out of the door and into the hallway with Zayne following behind. The crash cart that usually sits at the nurses' station is nowhere to be seen, explaining why there is nobody else helping out in the room— another emergency is occurring elsewhere in the ward.

“Doctor Li, we need to go to the ICU, the crash cart is being used elsewhere.” You say and he nods, leading the way.

Your mind is on auto pilot, frantically making your way to the ICU in hopes that there's an available crash cart somewhere. Zayne uses his longer legs to his advantage and you see him conversing with one of the nurses find the crash cart.

“Doctor L/n, on your right!” He shouts, breaking the silence of the peaceful department.

Turning right, you notice the white and blue cart instantly. You push on it, and it rolls on its wheels. Zayne comes into your vision and stands next to you, making carrying the weight of the heavy piece of equipment much faster.

“Let's go.” You announce and Zayne nods, pushing the cart out of the ICU hallway.

The journey from the ICU to the general surgery department feels extremely long, despite it being the closest department to the one you have essentially made a home in. Pushing it is honestly not much of a problem, the only problem on your mind is the patient and your hopes of them making a rapid recovery.

You feel something cold on the back of your hand and immediately know it's not you, especially with your body sweating from the stress and your uncomfortable, thick white coat. Probably just a piece of equipment sticking out of the drawers.

You quickly look down and register the 'cold something' as Zayne's hand. You grasp onto the side of the cart tighter and look up to only make accidental eye contact with Zayne. Right about now, you would have said something along the lines of 'get your icicle hands off me' but it clearly is not the time, especially when the patient's room is in sight.

You suck up the comment practically begging to spill from your lips, it causing your heart to beat wild enough to the point where it could end with you being a receiving the treatment.

But the feeling of his hand on top of yours is actually kind of nice — definitely not in a way that would get teenage girls screaming. It's just a very weirdly comforting ice pack. His eyes never stray from yours, only giving you a short nod— probably as a way of letting you know he's there and you don't need to worry.

As nice as it is to have eye contact with Zayne that is not just side eyes and snares, you cough awkwardly, averting your eyes in front of you to prevent the cart from crashing into a poor passerby.

Manoeuvring the cart into the room, you notice the tired expressions on Greyson's and Doctor Zhou's faces. “Sorry we took so long, the cart was in the ICU. I'll take over doing compressions!” You stand by the patient's bedside, rolling up your sleeves.

With the rest of the emergency passing in a blink of an eye, you make your way to the on call room. Flopping down on the spinny chair, you open a water bottle and the door opens with Zayne making his way inside.

“I think Oliver recovering has given me closure— I didn't freak out and handled the situation calmly! I even volunteered to do compressions before you, everyone knows how keen you are to be the first one to help!” You smile widely.

“Seeing Oliver recovered has definitely improved your confidence. I'm glad you aren't afraid to jump into action anymore.” He says and you nod with a mouthful of water.

Considering your newly established relationship with Zayne as acquaintances, you expected a more meaningful reaction from him. Despite him being a man of not very much to say in the first place, you should feel thankful that you have even made it as far as him offering you one of his precious macarons a few months ago.

But you can't help but feel like you need something more from him. Perhaps something along the lines of 'I'm proud,' or 'This is only the beginning of good things,' but considering the fact that it is Zayne, maybe this is as far as it will go.

It quite honestly doesn't make any sense— why is there a sudden need to be validated and noticed by him?

You sit in the conference room, daydreaming about what you should order for dinner when you get home after work.

The topic of internet safety is incredibly boring and the guy from IT didn't even bother making the presentation slides colourful. It's pretty much common sense (there's probably an old consultant somewhere learning what an incognito tab is) and your mind is incredibly under-stimulated.

Letting out a silent sigh, you give your eyes a break from the colourless presentation slides and stare out the window. The view isn't very appealing either: thick, tamed black hair covers your view of the trees below. Sparing a glance at the owner of said hair, you soon realise it is Zayne.

Keen on wasting even more time, your mind wanders off to problems that you have experienced since starting work at Akso. The lack of fluffy pillows in the break room to sleep on, Zayne picking a fight with you in front of poor Daisy, the terrible one week on call shift you had with Zayne, your sudden need to have Zayne act more cheerful around you— fuck.

Why are you so caught up about Zayne in the first place? Why do you want him to act more like a human rather than a programmed robot? It was not much this much a problem in medical school, so what on earth is causing you to feel this way?

Is it the weird period of transitioning into the working world? It might be, it takes everyone different amounts of time to settle into a hospital as big as Akso. Maybe you just need more time to get to grips with the place.

It definitely is, nothing else.

After what feels like ten minutes, you blink slowly in hopes to catch up on micro amounts of sleep that you missed out on last night. During the short period of letting your eyes rest, your mind once again drifts off thinking anything other than this useless presentation.

The sound of papers rustling brings your head out of the clouds and your vision hones in on Zayne looking straight back at you. Shit. Have you been unconsciously looking at him the entire time? You blink a few times, hoping it's just a figure of your imagination, but his eyes continue to stare into yours.

Faking a smile, you pick up your pen and fiercely make notes, writing 'what the fuck did he just catch me???'. Hesitantly, you slowly lift up your head to check if he has decided to save your dignity and look anywhere else but you.

You freeze, realising Zayne's piercing eyes are still locked in on you. The room grows more stuffy by the second, and the heat spreads to your cheeks. Coughing awkwardly, you finally pay attention to the presentation only to find out that the IT guy is thanking everyone for listening.

Grabbing your pen and notepad, you rush out of the room before Yvonne— or even worse, Zayne himself— asks why you are in such a hurry to leave.

Walking up to the hospital entrance, the wind brushes past your shoulders and almost knocks you off balance.

It acts a quiet reminder of how it life at the hospital has been boring to say the least, as this has single handedly been the most exciting thing that has happened all week. No new hospital drama, not even a good show to watch on the reception television when appointments slow down during the day.

Sighing at the lack of gossip, you can only drag your feet along the floors to the general surgery department, hoping that somewhere the drama will start picking up again. The handover from the night shift team remains the same as normal: boring.

Based on the blank expression on Yvonne's face, it doesn't take a genius to figure out how she is feeling. Not even as the handover ends does her expression brighten up in the slightest, her eyes boring holes into the patient files. You can only sigh when the night shift team leaves.

The morale in the room is non existent. Something good has to happen today, and it can't be a patient dancing the macarena on the tables whilst naked.

The end of the shift is in sight, and the break room is silent. Everyone is clearly ready to go home, and you countdown the mere minutes on the clock until you are no longer legally bound to stay at the hospital. Time goes by extremely slowly, checking the clock when you think the shift is officially over, only it to not even change the position of the minute hand.

The sound of the curtain being pulled back catches your attention, and Zayne walks out. His grey long coat only extends his tall figure, matching well with the silver rimmed glasses he wears.

He actually looks good. Not as in a presentable outfit kind of good, but Zayne himself looks good.

There should be no reason for you to be thinking about him in this way. It's just Zayne. It's just because he is wearing something that isn't the weird fitting green scrubs which brings out his eyes that makes him look good.

You blink multiple times, hoping that after twenty blinks he goes back to looking the way he usually does. But he never does. If anything, the excessive blinking relieves your dry eyes and it doesn't hurt to look at him anymore.

It was never about the transition from medical school to working as a doctor. It was never about the stupid scrubs that you associated with work. You have settled into the hospital well, especially with how you went out for drinks with Yvonne last week.

The realisation dawns on you, and you press your nails into your skin trying anything to wake up from the reality. You feel your heart pound against your chest and you assess. There is quite literally nothing else that could cause it to race— you are sat on a chair and there isn't an emergency happening.

It's Zayne. Somewhere along the way, you developed these stupid romantic feelings for him.

The hospital drama you so desperately wanted? It's you.

The next few days pass by in a blur, with your schedule filled up with regular appointments and the occasional emergency, life has been on autopilot.

But with Yvonne rushing into the break room the brightest you have seen her smile since last week, you know something interesting has happened.

“Did you hear? The hospital's twentieth year anniversary is this Friday, so the hospital director is treating Akso staff to the new fancy barbecue restaurant everyone online raves about!” Yvonne spins around in her chair in pure childlike happiness. “I finally get to see the hidden couples of other departments! The hospital drama drought will come to an end!”

“That sounds great! I can't wait to have something interesting to talk about other than the sad selection of crisps from the vending machine.” You chuckle, swallowing nervously as you realise your secret may come out quicker than expected.

“I'm so excited to see the stolen glances from people when they think someone isn't watching! I love watching the tension build up.” She closes her eyes happily, sighing happily.

You definitely won't be the centre of attention, there should be absolutely no reason to worry at all. Eat, laugh at some stupid joke and don't look at Zayne. Simple.

Sitting in the barbecue place for the event, you take in your surroundings, watching as people would be more than happy to chat the rest of the night away. Your gaze drifts to the nephrology department, as you notice the hidden glances between a couple who definitely cannot be any more obvious.

You can only hope that your eyes don't betray your crumbling will to continue being acquaintances with the man sitting opposite you. The sharp tapping of a wine glass breaks the silence.

“Everyone can I have your attention please?” Heads turn and you watch as the hospital director smiles brightly.

“As much as I enjoy watching the different departments together, it is time for a competition. A group quiz! The winning department of the quiz gets a massage chair for all your relaxing needs!” Loud murmurs and hushed conversations immediately start, with people happily imagining themselves sat in the massage chair during a short break.

Whiteboards are quickly passed around the room, with Doctor Zhou being nominated as the team's scribe. “First question, an extremely easy one. What anniversary is Akso currently celebrating on this fine evening?” The hospital director doesn't even finish his first question, and '20 years' is written on the whiteboard.

“Alright, boards up! Okay, all teams get a point!” The crowd cheers as someone notes down the scores on a piece of paper. “Next question, how many times does the average person blink in a day? The exact or the closest answer wins the point!” Everyone huddles around in a circle, keen on discussing their thoughts.

“I think about ten thousand times a day.” Greyson speaks in a hushed tone. Everyone nods in some form of agreement.

“It's about fifteen thousand times a day, actually.” You say, causing everyone to blink silently at you as the gears in their head try to calculate. “I memorised a fact book about weird trivia facts when I was about eight and it hasn't proven me wrong since.”

“Of course, as expected.” A once irritating voice speaks up and you roll your eyes in order to not cause a scene.

“I trust Y/n!” Yvonne raises her arm up, looking around the table to see who would join her. Soon enough, most of the table has their hands raised. Doctor Zhou hums, writing down your answer on the whiteboard.

“Time is up, show me your answers!” He shouts, scanning through the answers written, until his jaw drops. “We have an exact answer everyone!” He points to your table, causing everyone to shake your shoulders happily. “The answer was fifteen thousand times.” The crowd sighs.

“Next question, what is the average speed of a human sneeze in miles per hour?” The other tables suddenly get deep into conversation.

“How about we all say an answer at the same time? I know Y/n probably knows the answer, but this makes it more fun since we will just be sitting in silence as we wait to see if the answer is right.” Yvonne suggests, and everyone around the table nods in agreement.

“How about we all say our answers on the count of three? One, two… three!”

“Fifty miles an hour!”

“Eighty five miles an hour!”

“Seventy three and a half miles an hour!”

“Over one hundred miles an hour.” You say, and your voice somehow sounds like it dropped a whole octave. Looking to the source of your supposed low voice, you feel the colour rush to your face. There should not even be a rational reason to feeling a weird a sense of embarrassment.

Of course, Zayne manages to say the exact same answer as you at the exact same time. It shouldn't even be a surprise, he is a literal doctor and just happens to have a good memory too. He is extremely smart, he probably memorised the exact same trivia book that you did.

“Y/n?” A hand taps your arm. “Did you hear the question?” Yvonne stares at you, a hint of concern written on her face.

“Huh?” You look to her. “Did we get the question right?”

“Yes we did, thanks to you and Zayne!” She chirps happily. “The question was 'where does the term muscle come from?' and include the language of origin too.”

“Little mouse in Latin.” Twiddling your fingers, you try to take interest in the plain colour of your nails but eventually fail. Looking to the person who has your head utterly and completely messed up, you eye the bottle of expensive wine sitting in the middle of the table.

It might as well be easier to spend the rest of the night slightly tipsy and having your feelings spiral rather than just be a human void who can only think about the complications of falling for Zayne.

Huffing, you grab the glass bottle and pour a good amount into your wine glass, admiring the deep red hue before downing it in one quick gulp. You pick up the bottle again, pouring another into your glass whilst everyone keenly watches.

“Slow down, you can't have all the fun without us! Let us have some before you drink your way through to victory, Y/n.” Yvonne whistles, extending her glass in front of you as she waits for you to pour her some.

This sets off a chain reaction of everyone else on the table, grinning from ear to ear as they wait for you to pour the wine into their glass. They happily savour the drink, discussing about the different fruits that they taste as they swirl the liquid.

Almost coming full circle on the table, you stop at Zayne. “Don't you want some?” You ask, displaying the fancy label for him to look at whilst you tilt your head at him.

“No thank you. I am not well suited for drinking.”

“I will drink this in your stead, Doctor Li.” You raise your glass, clinking it with his empty one. “If you don't hear from me on our next shift, it's because I have lost my phone and don't know how to get home.” You smile, remembering your college days as you drink the whole thing in one go.

Zayne just looks at you with a concerned look on his face. “Next question!” The sound of the microphone seems much louder, a clear tell tale sign the alcohol is kicking in. “What is my favourite colour?” He chuckles, enjoying the confused looks on everyone's faces at the new question.

The room goes into frenzy, everyone naming all the colours that they can think of at the top of their head whilst you quietly sing the rainbow song as you forget what colours exist. “Blue!” You lean over the table, pointing to the director's tie. “He always wears a blue tie.”

“Yes, Y/n. But right now, he's wearing a green tie.” Yvonne coos, making sure you sit back down on your chair. Looking over to the director, you focus your eyes and finally see his green tie. You see a smirk on Zayne's face.

“Hey, I'm trying!” Yvonne only pats your shoulder comfortingly to calm your increasing anger which causes your eyes to droop.

“Final question, what fruit does a human share sixty percent of its DNA with?”

“Banana. Yellow fuzzy bananas.” Your mouth opens before your eyes do, seeing the bright lights invade your vision.

“You're drunk, Y/n.” Yvonne announces, taking your wine glass away from you. “Drink up!” She hands you a glass with transparent liquid in it.

“Nope, I don't want water! I want more yummy wine.” You shake your head, pushing the glass of water away from you.

“We both know that's not going to be happening.” She deadpans, putting the water into your hands. “At least take a little sip for me, please?” You use both hands to steady the cup, washing down the taste of the sweet berries.

“We have a winning team, everyone! The winning team is…” The director trails off, leaving everyone in suspense.

“The general surgery team! Congratulations, the massage chair will be arriving on Monday. Thank you everyone for coming to Akso's twentieth anniversary dinner, get home safe!” You cheer, nursing your empty wine glass as you pick up some crackers, watching as everyone collects their belongings.

“Where do you live, Y/n? I want you home safe and in one piece, please.” Yvonne, your shining knight in armour asks.

“Near the hospital, near the park with the cool exercise machines.” You grin, clumsily shoving a cracker into your mouth as Yvonne sighs and Doctor Zhou nods.

“Does anyone live near the big park with the fountains and is able to take Y/n home, please?” Doctor Zhou turns around, facing the rest of the general surgery team.

You sit in your chair, watching as people shake their heads on in response. Grabbing your phone, you tap on the screen in attempts to book a taxi, only to be locked out after the fifth attempt.

“I live close by.” A voice that makes you want to hide in a hole for the rest of eternity speaks up, and you immediately shake your head childishly.

“I can make it home by myself! I am more than capable.” You stand up, gripping onto the back of the chair for dear life as the world spins.

“Zayne is going to take you home, Y/n. I'll see you on Sunday, okay?” Yvonne waves you goodbye before facing the man beside you. “Take care of her for me please. Good luck, she seems like she is going to be a bit of a handful.”

You walk with your head down, trying to walk as sober as possible as you can to avoid the awkward walk home with the man who has been taking up every inch of your thoughts.

“You're going to fall if you continue to walk like that, L/n.” Turning around, you glance back at him and only look at him before huffing and turning back around to leave the restaurant.

Walking past the restaurant entrance, you immediately make a left turn and observe the glass reflection to see if Zayne is still following you. He walks briskly, holding on to your bag as he fixes his glasses. You stop in your tracks, allowing Zayne to catch up with you.

Once he stands in front of you, you grab the bag from him and try to walk, only to find yourself stuck in the same place as he holds a gentle grip around your wrist.

“I understand you want to go home alone, but I need to ensure you get home safely, L/n. Please stop trying to run away from me.” You stick your tongue at him, but he still doesn't let go of you. “Didn't you tell me that I might not hear back from you if you get too drunk?”

“And why do you care if I make it home back safe or not, Li?” You retort back sassily, putting your hand on your waist for extra effect.

“I told everyone that I would escort you home, so I must stick to my words. Nobody was going in the same direction as you, and I have little trust in taxi drivers at such a late time. Despite living in the opposite direction, I need to make sure you attend the next shift.” He stays silent. “As acquaintances, of course.”

“Hm.” Zayne removes his grip on you, allowing you to move freely.

Putting one foot in front of the other, you allow Zayne to walk you home. “You are like fuzzy cheese.”

“I wonder if you will be able to tell me the same thing sober, L/n.” Ignoring him, you continue with your new profound discovery.

“Whenever people look at fuzzy cheese, they just go 'ew' and move on. But if you actually know about fuzzy cheese, you can just remove the exterior and enjoy the insides.”

“I was not expecting to be likened to fuzzy cheese, but thank you for your wonderful analogy.”

“Your coat is fuzzy too.” Grazing your hand past his coat, you feel the material and scrunch your nose up in disgust.

“Look at the park! Isn't it pretty? I could dive into the fountain to cool down, don't you think?”

“You are not doing that.” He grabs the material of your trench coat, ready to pull you back if you jump in.

“Awww.” You look down to the ground, kicking your feet sadly. Zayne sighs, letting go of your coat. You nod at him, blinking slowly as you point to the fountain in child- like joy. “Can we go look at the fountain please?” Looking up at him, you clasp your hands together and put on your best puppy face.

“As long as you promise to go home right after this, L/n.” You put a hand over your heart, agreeing with his statement. “I suppose we can go.”

Running towards the fountain, you pant from the heaviness of the trench coat and the alcohol severely reducing your ability to function properly.

Looking behind you, Zayne chases after you with wide eyes at your sudden exit. “It's so hot.” You wipe sweat off your forehead, fanning yourself with your hands. “Take this,” You hand him your bag.

“Wouldn't you like to take off your—” You jump into the fountain, splashing happily as the coldness of the water hits your face. “—coat.” Smiling at Zayne, you can't tell if he's angry, disappointed or intrigued by your behaviour as he places your bag onto his broad shoulders.

“Let's get you up, hm?” He places a hand in front of you, waiting for you to take it.

“You're warm. This is cold.” Gesturing towards the water, you scoop a handful of water into your hands, watching it trickle down your arms as it slips through the gaps in your hands.

“I find it hard to believe that the one time you call me a warm person is whilst you are completely inebriated and splashing around in a water fountain. Don't you want to go home and get some sleep?” He asks, and you close your eyes shaking your head, whispering 'no no no' under your breath.

Zayne sighs for the billionth time this night. “You leave me with no choice.” Getting into the fountain, he makes sure to not get your bag wet as he crouches down, picking you up and carrying you into his arms.

“Hehe, this is fun!” You giggle, lifting one arm up in the air to touch his cheeks.

“We have very different ideas of fun.” Stepping out of the fountain, the sound of water from his trousers hitting the concrete makes you giggle even more.

“You are going to have a terrible morning when you wake up tomorrow.”

“Hm? Why? I feel great now! Look!” Your wet hands pulling down on his chin, forcing him to stop walking and make eye contact with him.

The atmosphere changes. Zayne doesn't say anything, his lips slightly parted as his eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips. Running your free hand through his hair, you slowly bring it down to the back of his burning neck, pulling him closer. The distance is almost non existent, his lips hovering over yours, close enough to feel his gentle breath.

In a blink, he pulls away.

“I…” His voice trails off, pressing his lips together. “Apologies. Can you tell me where your house is?”

“First door, second floor over there.” Pointing towards the building in front of you.

He nods, walking towards the direction of your building. The walk back is quiet, the tension thick enough to be cut with a knife. Afraid of making eye contact again, you screw your eyes shut and loll your head against his arm.

“We're here.” A quiet voice that you know all too well says and you don't have the guts to move, only moving your chest in attempts to breathe normally. “Y— L/n, we're here. Let's get you inside.” You only open your mouth slightly in response. “I don't want you getting a cold, please.”

“Hm?” You open your eyes slightly, Zayne's handsome features still visible in your blurry eyesight.

“We are outside your door. Do you have your keys with you so I can get you inside?”

“Bag.” You reply, pressing the side of your head against his chest. “I need to put you down for a second to get your keys, L/n.” Immediately shaking your head, you nuzzle further into him in protest. “Can you get them for me? Your bag is hanging on my shoulder.” With as little strength you can muster, you weakly grab your bag from his side, fumbling to grab your keys.

“Here!” You reveal the keys, dangling them in front of his face like a cat toy.

“Thank you.” He takes the keys from your hand, moving closer towards the door and you hear the rattling of the keys as the scent of your vanilla diffuser hits your nose.

“I need to take off your shoes. Just a second.” The plush feeling of the sofa hits your back as your head rests against the pillows. Your soaked shoes come off, and you sigh in relief at the heavy weight gone from your feet.

“It's cold.” You complain, looking around for a pillow, plopping it over your stomach as a makeshift blanket.

“So now you complain about being cold.” Zayne chuckles. “You need to change into warmer clothes.”

“Can you change my clothes?” You look at him with heavy lidded eyes as you rest your forehead against his. In your bleary state, you notice the tips of his cheeks and ears quickly turning into a bright red colour.

“No. But I can help you take off your coat instead.” As if a switch goes off, you smile and stick your arms out as you wait for him to remove the coat sticking to your body with waiting eyes. His hands reach just under your collar, removing the material off of you, making you shiver.

“Where do you keep your pyjamas? If you sleep in these, you're going to end up sneezing in front of patients.” Zayne asks, hanging your brown coat above the door to let it dry.

“Bedroom.” You stand up, much quicker than what your body can keep up with, causing the world to tilt sideways until you feel the world turn back upright with Zayne's arm wrapped around your waist. “Heh, you caught me!”

Grabbing his arm, you lead the way into your room. “There's my pyjamas!” Pointing to the big wooden drawer as you plop down on the floor.

“Which ones would you like to wear?” Searching through your drawer, he pulls out a few options.

“The blue ones!” They end up in your lap, with Zayne walking out of your room to let you change. Opening the door handle, you smile back at Zayne who only chuckles as he sees your face. “Why are you laughing? These are very stylish!”

“You still have makeup on with them on, that's all. Come on, let's get your makeup removed and your teeth brushed.” Nodding in agreement, you use him as support to walk to your bathroom and wait for him to step inside.

Craning your neck upwards to look up at Zayne, you await his instructions. He quickly catches on, putting toothpaste on your toothbrush and hands it to you. Grabbing the toothbrush, you look at him in the mirror as you begin brushing.

Just before spitting out the toothpaste, you give him a foamy grin which causes him to unfortunately only encourage you to spit it out instead of complimenting your lovely smile.

“What about your makeup remover?” Blinking up at him, you point towards the micellar water and the cotton pads laying about on the counter top.

“Here,” He hands them to you, with the bottle of micellar water opened. Taking them into your hands, you pour the transparent liquid over the cotton pad and gravely miss, with some of it ending on your fluffy mat.

“Can you do it for me?” You pass them back to him, and immediately close your eyes. Gentle hands gently touch your chin, slightly bringing it upwards as you feel the cold feeling glide across your face.

“Sorry, it's a little cold.” He apologises, shuffling about as he takes more micellar water onto the cotton pads. “Almost done.” You feel him get closer, the stupid feeling of his breath resting on your lips makes you internally spiral.

“Done. Into bed now.” You open your eyes as Zayne stands beside you, waiting for you to lead the way into your bedroom.

Your heavy feet pad against the floors, magically making it into the bed and you pull the covers over your body. “Li?” You call out with your head resting against the pillows. He turns back around in the hallway. “Thank you, you're such a good friend.”

“Of course. Just doing what a friend would do. Goodnight, L/n.” He walks away, and you finally let sleep overcome you.

The sound of an alarm that definitely should not be going off wakes you up, and you are immediately greeted with the bright sun hitting your eyes and a throbbing headache. Turning off the alarm, you bury yourself back into the covers to stop the headache.

Whatever happened last night must have been fun for the pain to be this bad. Closing your eyes, you are immediately met with the insane things you did the previous night.

Getting drunk in front of all of your colleagues, some other act that you can't quite remember and Zayne removing your makeup. All of it hits you like a train, except from this one particular thing that happened with Zayne.

Your finger hovers over your lips as a habit and suddenly everything clicks into place. Outside, jumping into the decorative fountain to cool down, Zayne getting into the fountain to only pick you up bridal style, and the kiss. The kiss that almost happened.

You scream into your pillow, the pulsing sensation only getting stronger as you use up more of your strength for such a useless thing. Letting out a heavy sigh, you rush to the bathroom to brush your teeth and create a terrible breakfast to get the pain medication down.

The medication doesn't go down as easily as you assumed it would. The bitter, chalky taste is very much reflecting your bleak outlook on your reputation and the potential for Zayne to think of you as a freak.

Hell, you even called him a good friend in your drunk state. Never have you ever considered him a friend— only an enemy, acquaintance and a confusing crush. This immediately blurs the lines of your confusing relationship, as you vaguely remembering him calling you a friend as he left last night.

Does that make you friends? Do friends almost kiss? Do friends walk you home in the opposite direction to get you home safely and remove your makeup?

Great friends might, but you bravely established the start of a friendship last night. The realisation dawns upon you, and you stare up at the ceiling in a mixture of disbelief and nervousness.

Zayne might just feel the same way.

The walk into Akso is terribly gloomy, your umbrella almost giving into the strong winds and carrying away your remaining will to live.

Making your way into the department, you spot Zayne in the corner of your eye and quickly change into your scrubs before he leaves you to have an awkward rounding session together with the rest of the trainees.

Putting on your most neutral expression possible, you approach with your hands behind your back to hide your fidgeting hands. “Doctor Li, can I speak to you privately please?”

“Of course.” Luckily for you, everyone seems keen on getting started early and leaves you alone with him. “I just want to start by apologising, I was certainly a handful on Friday night. Thank you for going out of your way to make sure I get home safely. Things that nearly happened definitely should not have happened and I want to say sorry if I gave you the wrong idea.”

“Of course, we are acquaintances and colleagues.” Your heart flutters, but you can't pinpoint if it's disappointment or acceptance. “It's in the best interests of the hospital to make sure that all staff members go back home safely. As for the thing that nearly happened, it's best if we pretend it never happened.”

“Thank you for understanding. I'm glad we can just put it behind us.” You bite the inside of your lip, realising the emotion you feel is definitely disappointment. “We should get going, we have to do rounds.”

With the specialisation exams approaching, the general surgery department grows more tense as the days go by.

The silly jokes in the break room have now been replaced by the sighs of resident doctors who only want to pass their exams. Thankfully, the department is well aware of this and has blocked out study time in your working schedule to focus on these important exams.

With your appointments running later, you have lost the privilege of choosing your seat and are forced to sit at the only shared table without a computer. But that seems to be less of a pressing problem when you see Zayne and you realise this study session is going to be a lot harder than you initially planned it out to be.

Shaking off the distraction sat next to you, you hover over a neurosurgery textbook as you fiddle with your pen. Placing your pen down, you grab a highlighter from your worn out pencil case and you hear the faint sound of your pen rolling off the table. Your reflexes aren't quick enough to catch it in time, and it drops onto the floor right onto Zayne's side of the table.

Without trying to make a scene, you stretch out your arm to reach for the stupid pen but to no avail. Extremely tempted to just use another one, you glance at the ink filled cylinder only to realise it's your favourite one that has the smoothest ink. With a new found determination, you stretch your arm out even further only to come extremely short.

You sit back up onto your seat and watch the second hand go past. The dull sound of a chair being dragged against the floor shakes the table ever so slightly and you look to the reason that disturbed your silence.

Zayne sits there, holding your pen out waiting for you to take it back. You smile at him, instantly feeling bad that you called him the so called reason of destroying your silence. Reaching for the pen, you wrap your fingers around it, waiting for Zayne to let go. But he doesn't. He only pulls the pen closer to him, causing you to be pulled closer to him by the grip he has over your poor pen.

Blinking at him, you gesture towards the pen, hoping that he gets the hint to let go so you can get back to your studies. You even point out the table, and hope that he just leaves it there. But nothing. Staring at him, you try to figure out what on earth he is trying to get out of this.

With your eyes honed in on his, you feel the pen move in your hold and before you even realise, Zayne's fingers are ever so slightly touching yours. You welcome the feeling of his fingers against yours. If you tried hard enough, you could just about make out the softness of his fingertips despite the rough procedures he helps assist whilst in the operating room.

Or maybe you could almost feel the texture of his skin if you move even in the slightest. Somebody should move their hand away. But in all honesty, you don't want to and you can't bring yourself to do so.

But the textbooks that sit on the desk is calling out your name, begging to be read again— You let out an extremely unconvincing cough that magically causes no one in the room to bat an eye, but only then, Zayne's eyes widen in shock.

He immediately lets go of the pen, and his gaze flickers between your hands and his. He hastily flicks to a new page of his textbook, pretending that you don't exist after everything that just happened.

You can only furrow your eyebrows at his behaviour, especially after noticing the red hue that has rapidly appeared on his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

This is definitely not what forgetting Friday night's incident looks like.

Sitting in the break room, you fiddle with your fingers as you watch Greyson and Yvonne walk out, leaving you the only person left in the room with Zayne. The door closes behind them and you feel the conflict between your emotions threatening to spill over but you swallow them down. “I have something to say.”

“Something private, I'm assuming.” You nod, nibbling on the inside of your gum.

“I can't keep pretending like everything is okay. I can't keep going about my day as if my brain isn't clouded so many thoughts to the point where it gets overwhelming. I have tried denying it, suppressing the feeling until it disappears— but it never does. It only makes it worse. As someone who has been wanting to be a neurosurgeon long before starting medical school, I do what I am told.” You pause, looking into his eyes and seeing your own reflection.

“I have always been inclined to think with my head, never my heart. But things have changed, and at first I hated it. At first I thought it was the rush of actually being a doctor, but it wasn't. It was you, Zayne. I can't keep ignoring what my heart wants.” Tears stream down your face. “I have to give into what my heart wants. My heart wants you, Zayne.”

Through your clouded vision, you notice Zayne struggling for words for the first time in all of your years of knowing him. Your heart stammers rapidly against your chest, waiting for him to just say something. But he doesn't say anything, only wiping your tears with his cool fingertips. The coldness of his fingers brings you relief through your flushed face.

You prepare for a heart wrenching rejection that will leave you emotionally unavailable for the next three years whilst still pretending that everything is okay for the remainder of this stupid general surgeon training.

You could perhaps start by having a long movie night with some strawberry ice cream and— “You called me Zayne. Not Li.”

“That's all you care about?” Your mouth drops as your tears find their way back into its tear ducts.

“I just poured out my entire heart and all you care about is that I called you Zayne?” Anger bubbles through your small silver of patience and you walk around him, ready to leave.

“Y/n.” You pause in your tracks, fully understanding why he was unable to say anything when you called him by his first name. “Stay. Please, I didn't even get to tell you how I feel.” His hand wraps around your wrist, preventing you from leaving. Turning around, you see him with his eyes glassy with tears. “I didn't get the chance to tell you my feelings. I'm sorry for scaring you like that, I just needed time to make sure what I heard from you was truly real.”

“You don't need to feel pity for me. We can just pretend that this never happened.” You sniffle, the tears threatening to spill again.

“No, Y/n. Just stay for a minute. I just need one minute.” The sense of urgency drips from his voice. His hold on your wrist doesn't tighten or loosen, just waiting for you to make a decision.

With a sigh, you turn around and see him shut his eyes closed for a second. “Studying the health of other people's hearts was always my priority. I assumed that nothing good would happen from putting my own heart first. But fuck, Y/n. I need to be selfish for once.”

“So you…”

“I like you, Y/n.” Tears flow and you find yourself between his warm arms.

“You fucking idiot.” You shove your face in his chest as you hit his shoulder. “Had me thinking if I would be known as the one who stupidly confessed her feelings for a colleague and got rejected.” His shirt becomes drenched in your tears. “You had me so scared, Zayne!”

“Shhh. I know, I'm such an idiot aren't I?” He soothes you, rubbing a hand down your back slowly. The sound of his rapid beating heart brings you a weird sense of peace, allowing you to focus on something other than the happy, hot tears streaming down your face.

Soon enough, your breathing goes back to normal. “Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask, addressing the smirk on his face.

“So you called me Zayne, huh?” His smile grows even wider.

“Shut up.” You scoff, rolling your eyes at him. “Make me.” Without wasting another second, the space between you is closed.

A shaky hand cups your cheek and you finally, finally feel his lips on yours. The kiss is messy, teeth clashing and you can taste the saltiness from your dried tears. But nothing has ever felt so good.

Pulling away, your forehead rests against Zayne's, feeling his breath linger on your lips. “My place.” He nods, kissing your lips once more before grabbing your hand and leading you out of the door.

You lock the door and Zayne is immediately on you, pinning you to the nearest wall. He wraps an arm around your body, pulling you close to him and closes the distance between your lips.

His hands start to wander, his usual logical mind suddenly in a frenzy. His hands soon find the ends of your blouse, placing his cold fingertips at the base of your waist.

You gasp in response, and he takes this opportunity to sweep his tongue against your mouth, leaving you breathless. Your fingers tug at his hair and this only spurs him on, slowly dragging his fingertips higher and higher.

Zayne's lips detach from yours, leaving a connected line of your shared saliva whilst you refill your lungs with air again. Soft kisses trail down your jaw until Zayne finds refuge at the base of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent.

“You… smell like honey.” He breathes against your neck. “I missed out on my dessert on my lunch break. But who am I to care whilst I am currently indulging in the sweetest dessert after a long day of work?” His lips cover every inch of your skin scented honey perfume, thoroughly making sure to not miss a single spot.

“Zayne…” You breathe out. “Bedroom.” His large hands settle at the back of your thighs and you jump into his arms without hesitation and recapture his lips with yours.

You find yourself being placed on the side of the bed with no idea of how Zayne actually found your bedroom whilst kissing you until all the air in your lungs disappears. But you don't have the energy to care, not when he loosens his tie with one hand wearing those silver rimmed glasses of his.

Impatient, you yank him down with his collar and kiss him like tomorrow doesn't exist. Making good use of his nimble fingers, the opening of your blouse widens as he unbuttons it. The blouse lands on the bed and you fling it away, ready to do the same with the rest of your clothes.

“Gorgeous.” Zayne pulls away from you, admiring your almost naked form. His fingers find the clasp of your bra, but never comes undone. Only when you silently nod in approval is when the flimsy piece of material is released. “Perfect. Absolutely perfect.” Zayne whispers before pinching your nipple, kissing the sides of your neck.

A rush of pleasure runs through you and you can't help but moan at the feeling. If anything, it only encourages him more to devour you, leaving wet kisses down your neck to your chest, taking your lonely bud into his mouth.

“Zayne…” You say, breathless at the pleasure he's giving you. He sucks harder in response, obviously proud of making you feel immense pleasure without even touching you where you need it the most.

He removes his lips with a soft pop from your sensitive bud, only to quickly give the other one the same attention whilst the sleeves of his shirt ride upwards. Swirling your nipple, he removes his tie and shirt with his gaze locked on you.

You grab the back of his neck, pulling him in closer as you try to mentally capture such a lewd image. In your dazed state, your eyes rake down his body, admiring the scars on his veiny arms. He presses heated kisses against your collarbone before looking at you again with his dilated pupils.

“You've been so good for me, Zaynie. Wanna do the same for you too.” You drawl out, teasingly running down one of your hands down his bare chest, watching as he exhales heavily at the mere touch of your fingertips.

“Fuck, you are going to be the death of me.” He curses under his breath but he grabs your wrist before you can go any lower. “I have waited so long to have you in my arms, darling. Tonight is all about making you feel good.” He kisses your temple. “But that doesn't stop you from doing whatever you want for round two.” His warm breath fans your ear, goosebumps quickly forming along your exposed arms.

True to his words, his fingers find the buttons on your trousers and you lift up your hips, removing the unwanted piece of material. Slow circles are traced along your inner thighs, until a finger traces over your drenched panties and you buck your core towards his hand at the fleeting sensation.

“Already this soaked for me?” He mockingly asks, continuing to move just one finger up and down your covered slit. You nod quickly in response, hoping that he actually starts moving properly. “I'm honoured. I'll give you what you so desperately want.” A ripping sound echoes throughout the room, and you feel your hot core exposed to the cold air.

But before you can even open your mouth to protest, a long, thick finger breaches your entrance. You shamelessly moan, feeling his finger explore your tight walls. “Look at you, feeling this good with just one finger.” He chuckles. “I haven't even gotten to your little sweet spot yet.” With the curl of his finger, the pads of his finger brushes against that gummy spot against your walls that has you grab your sheets.

“Fuck. Please!” You cry out, tears filling your vision.

“Please what, darling? I can't give you what you want until you ask for it.” Zayne says, another finger teasing the tip of your entrance.

“Please don't stop! Feels s-so good, Zaynie. Need more.” He slips another inside your wet core, fingers continue to stimulate your pretty g-spot, practically sending fireworks through your body.

“So responsive for me, sweetheart.” His thumb finds your clit, rubbing quick figure of eights whilst you moan unabashedly in pleasure. “I can feel you tighten up around me. Are you going to cum this quickly?”

“Close, s-so close Zaynie. I'm gonna cum, gonna be good, so good.” You grind against his hand, chasing the pleasure right on the tip of your tongue.

“Yeah?” He asks and you shakily nod in agreement. “Cum for me then, sweetheart.” With his fingers never slowing down its ministrations on your poor pussy, you feel the knot in your stomach snap and the pleasure overwhelms your body.

“Took my fingers so well, my good girl.” Your eyes lazily follow his handsome face. An arm grabs your waist, pulling you onto his lap, your lips ghosting over his. “I'm not finished with you yet, darling.” He closes the distance, your wet core hovering over his trousers.

Kissing you deeper, the distance closes even more and you feel his hard bulge under you. The feeling of the material and his imprint feels too good— with every little movement that you and Zayne make, your swollen clit catches against his trousers. “I can feel you dripping, baby.”

You moan in response, pushing your breasts flush against his chest for more stimulation. “You're going to make even more of mess on me, understood?” You nod, unable to help the drool leaving your mouth, landing between your chest and his. The sound of his voice and the feeling of his stupidly hard cock rubbing against your swollen clit has you on cloud nine.

“You're all mine. Mine. My good girl is going to listen to me and make a mess, isn't she? Clenching around fucking nothing. Don't worry baby, you'll have your fill soon, I'll make sure of it. Leave you aching for days, so you never forget who makes you feel this good. I want you to keep your eyes open for me when you cum, can you do that for me?”

The thought of having Zayne making you feel so good without him properly fucking you has you going insane. He nibbles on your ear, making it all too easy to hear how desperate he is for you, making the cord inside of you snap.

“Hah, Zayne! Gonna make a mess, hck!” You cry out, your vision getting blurry as you fight back the urge to keep your eyes closed as pleasure drives through you. In the midst of your vision, you notice Zayne's stupidly handsome smirk as he watches your response, flicking between your face and his lap where you sit on.

“Filthy girl, making such a mess.” He looks down to his darkened trousers. “Did such a good job all over me.” He dries the tears on your face, placing you back down on the sheets as he fixes your hair and kisses your cheek to give you a short respite.

“Can you keep up, baby? Haven't even gotten to the best part yet.” The sound of a zipper reaches your ears in your relaxed state, Zayne freeing his cock from the restraints of his boxers.

The prominent vein running on the side, oh how much fun it would be to watch his reaction as you run your tongue over it. Perhaps for another time.

“Do you have any condoms anywhere, darling?” Shaking your head no, you see the indecisiveness in his eyes.

“Please Zaynie, if I wait any longer I might just cry.” You plead.

“We need to stay safe, Y/n. We don't want any unexpected problems.” He screws his eyes closed, trying to think of something.

“We can get a pill tomorrow, Zaynie.” You press your lips together. “I've waited to have you for so long, I can't wait much longer.” You see his eyes waver. “Please, baby?”

“You are the only one that makes all of my logic fly out of the window. Just this once.” He languidly strokes himself a couple times, his jaw tightening ever so slightly from the pleasure. He hovers over you, his face close to yours. “Tell me you want me and I will give you all of me.”

“I want you— no, I need you Zayne. Need you to fill me up so bad.” You beg and a heart throbbing smile appears on his face. You feel a stretch, your head spinning at the dangerous mix of pain and pleasure.

“I've got you, gorgeous. Just breathe slowly for me, okay?” You follow his instructions, the stretch quickly ebbing into pure pleasure.

Your jaw drops at the feeling and you desperately crave for more. “Need all of you, baby. I can take it, need to feel all of you.” You wrap your legs around his waist, ready for more. He pushes in further and your walls clamp around him, memorising the way his cock curves ever so slightly against where you need it the most.

“So tight for me gorgeous. I'm such a lucky man.” He rests his forehead against yours, savouring the closeness between you two. Without a warning, he pulls back painstakingly slow before pushing himself back in.

“Zayne!” You whine, eyes screwing shut as he continues to thrust repeatedly.

“I'm here, darling.” He finds your lips, slotting it between his, the sounds of your shared saliva echoing throughout the room. You moan into his mouth as he finds his rhythm, showing you the fruits of his stamina.

“So fucking tight.” He disconnects his lips from yours. “Can't believe we spent so long arguing when I could have been in here. We need to make up for all the lost time, sweetheart.” An 'mhm' is all you can manage, your mind only filled with Zayne, Zayne, Zayne.

“Has my darling of a surgeon forgotten how to speak?” You rake your fingernails down his back. “Have I made you go all dumb with just my cock?”

“I can —ngh— still —fuck— talk!” You just about manage to say, looking up at Zayne, drinking in your fucked out appearance.

“I guess I haven't done my job properly.” He snaps his hips forwards and you grasp onto his biceps for support. “Tell me darling, what is the seventh cranial nerve?” You don't have the willpower to prove his stupidly gorgeous face wrong, even though any other moment you would have jumped at such an easy opportunity to do so.

How does he expect you to know when he's literally rearranging your insides?

You use whatever brainpower you have left, formulating a snarky reply. “Zayne I don't fucking care about some stupid cranial nerve right now.” You stare into his hazel green eyes. “Please don't stop, feels so good.”

“As you wish.” He places a chaste kiss on your lips and drills into your sopping core with no mercy. Your head tilts back, exposing your bare neck for him. He licks your skin as a warning, sucking and grazing the surface with his teeth, definitely more than enough to leave pretty marks in the morning. His warm breath finds the small of your ear, nibbling on the fleshy part of your earlobe ever so gently in attempts to bring you closer to the edge.

“I can feel you clenching around me, gorgeous. Feels so good doesn't it?” He mocks you, his tone of voice mimicking to yours. “I'm going to make you feel even better.” Zayne says and much to your dismay, pulls out.

You feel his hands reach out for your calves, folding your legs against your chest, pushing you into the mattress in a mean mating press. “How about this, baby?” He pushes back in and your eyes roll back.

You can feel him everywhere, this position makes your chest heave as you feel all the breath in your lungs being stolen from you with each snap of his hips. “What about now, darling? Do you have words left to say, or has the cat finally gotten your tongue?” You open your mouth, but no words come out. The cool air floods your mouth, a stark comparison to your burning body.

“Thought so.” Zayne smirks, tightening his grip on your waist. “Fuck darling, how did you get even tighter? It's like your cunt is begging me to not stop since your pretty mouth can't do it for you. You're so close, aren't you baby?” Your eyes become glassy, the pleasure overwhelming your senses as you whimper in a pathetic response.

His shoulders are so wide, you can barely even see the ceiling. It would definitely would be fun to leave blooming marks for him to cover up in the morning. A calculated thrust snaps you out of your daydreaming. “Come on, darling. Let all the neighbours know who makes you feel this good.”

His hand snakes towards your throbbing clit, giving it some needed attention after what feels like an eternity. “Hah— 'm close! Cum? Can I cum?” You plead.

“I know you're close darling. Say I'm yours and I'll let you cum.” The quick movements on your clit never stop, if anything they only speed up at his request.

“I'm yours! Yours, yours, Zayne! Mmm, my boyfriend is fucking me so good!” You cry out, your pleasure filled mind begging for release.

“Say that again, darling.”

“Boyfriend fucking me so good! Love it so much, please let me cum!” His eyes lock onto yours, filled with need and desire.

“Only your boyfriend can make you feel this good, can't he?” He greedily presses his fingers into the side of your hips. “Need to see you make a mess. Cum for me.” His thick mushroom head bullies your sweet spot in an uneven rhythm, a bead of sweat falls down his temples.

You don't even comprehend what comes out of your mouth as your orgasm crashes into you. Waves of pleasure run through your body as you blindly grab onto Zayne to ground yourself. You weakly open your eyes and watch Zayne's movements begin to falter as he finds release, hot white spurts of his cum finding home inside your fluttering walls.

With gentleness reserved only for you, he pulls out and finds a spot next to you on the bed. “Hello, darling.”

“Hi boyfriend.” His ears burn with a red ruby colour. You smile, albeit exhausted and snuggle up closer to him.

“I wasn't too much, was I?” He asks, his eyes raking down your body to see the beginning of littered dark marks forming on your skin. “I'm sorry if I hurt you, darling.”

“You didn't, Zaynie. Besides, I wouldn't mind it if you did.” The corner of your lips goes up ever so slightly, feeling the exhaustion clear instantly.

“We have tomorrow off, don't we? Don't you think it's time for you to fulfil your promise of round two?” Your finger trails down his chest and Zayne exhales heavily.

“Let me make my handsome boyfriend feel good, hm?” You look into his eyes for confirmation and latch onto his neck when he begs you for more.

Walking to the lunch cafeteria, you feel a hand appear out of nowhere and pull you into the storage closet you know all too well. “Who are— Zayne?” You exclaim and he places a hand over your mouth to quieten you down, so you bite on his fingers as revenge. He removes his hand, and you rub your hands over the bite marks to soothe the pain.

“Why are we in here?” You question your boyfriend.

“Darling, do you remember this little room?” He asks and you nod quickly in hopes he lets you free to hurry down to the cafeteria. “This was the room where you called us acquaintances. I was not particularly happy with that label on our relationship.”

“Baby, you were the one who told me and I quote, “This is not how acquaintances act around each other,” so it was you, not me.” He only pouts and you kiss his lips as a quick act of comfort. “Can we go now? It's lunch, you know that they serve my favourite lasagna on Mondays!”

“I'm not hungry for that kind of lunch right now.” He replies, caging you between him and the door. “Let me have my lunch, hm?” Realising what he wants, you let him press his body against yours as you impatiently await his lips on yours.

“Hold on, let me get a mop and bucket first!” A muffled voice says through the other side of the door and you feel your skin grow cold at the thought of someone discovering something that definitely should not be happening in a hospital storage closet.

Zayne's hand instinctively reaches for the handle, clearly looking stressed. But your mind strays elsewhere, as you notice the prominent veins on his arms and hands as he uses all his strength to keep the door closed.

“I think the door's locked, Joseph! Just wait a minute, I'll go grab the keys from reception!” The voice fades into the distance and you silently let out a sigh of relief.

“He's gone.” Zayne lets out a deep breath he didn't know he was holding.

“Thank you, my knight in shining armour. So brave, so strong.” You thank him, running your hands down his arms. “We have to hurry before Joseph's friend comes and finds us, don't we?” Zayne's eyes become heavy lidded, one hand on the door and the other resting above your head.

His forehead rests on yours, forcing you to make eye contact with him, sending a swarm of butterflies down your stomach. “My gorgeous darling.” He breathes out before greedily capturing your lips. Your chest presses against his and he shudders at the sensation.

“If we reveal our relationship one day, everyone is going to know who you belong to. Kisses—” He places a kiss on your jawline. “Here,” soft kisses press against your pulse point. “and here.”

The sound of rattling against the door stops your boyfriend in his tracks, going back to putting all of his attention on the door.

You pout, undoing a few of his top buttons to reveal his collarbone. Lifting yourself off the door, you attach yourself to him and leave open mouthed kisses against the hidden area that only you can look at.

“It's not working.” Joseph's friend mutters under his breath. “Joseph, I'm going to try another storage closet, I won't be too long!” He walks away, and you wrap your arms around Zayne's waist.

“He should be gone for good now, baby.” You rub circles around his waist. “But about the revealing the relationship—”

“I'm sorry if I forced something onto you that you don't want to do, my love.” He replies and you shake your head.

“I want to. I just don't know the best time to reveal it. Perhaps the award ceremony, since we're both nominees for the same award?”

“I think that's a wonderful idea.” He pats your head. “Now should we go get your lasagna?” You shake your head, your fingers running against the faint marks against his collarbone before fixing up his buttons.

“Now we can, as long as you let me go first to get my lasagna before it runs out.”

“Are you sure it's not to avoid us exposing our relationship to the whole of the hospital?” You cover your mouth in fake shock. “Both.” Kissing his cheek, you leave him to stop the flush on his cheeks from reddening more as you open the door.

“Over here, Y/n!” Yvonne calls out your name, and you spot her with the other surgical trainees. Walking past the tables, you sit down on the chair opposite Yvonne and place the precious lasagna onto the table.

“It looks like everyone is here?” Looking around the table, you pretend to not notice the seat next to you, intended for your secret boyfriend.

“Zayne isn't.” Greyson replies, and you open your mouth into a small 'o' shape as you pretend to remember his existence. “Have you seen him, by the way? I wonder if he will get here in time before the cheesecakes from the counter are all gone.”

“Not on my way here, no.” You bite into the lasagna, the taste making you instantly smile. “Oh. There he is.” You point to the man hovering over the dessert section. He sits beside you, pretending to not pay any attention to you.

“Since we are finishing our first year as doctors soon and have all passed our specialisation exams, which hospitals are you guys going to work at?” Yvonne asks, grabbing a spoonful of rice.

“The one in Skyhaven, I'm already dreading the long journey there.”

“I'm heading to Chansia, I hope it's as peaceful as people say it is.”

Hearing everyone is going their separate ways, you pick at your lasagna as your appetite slips away with every passing minute. “I'm staying here, thankfully.” Zayne answers, his warm hand is placed on your thigh, drawing small circles to comfort you.

“I am too.” You reply, reaching under the table with your free hand, you feel for Zayne's hand.

“We all need to keep in touch, guys! I have absolutely no idea how, considering our schedules are somehow going to be more intense, but I expect a reunion at least twice a year!” Yvonne points at each person on the table, making eye contact with everyone.

“Of course, don't even worry about it. You wouldn't let us live it down in the group chat, Yvonne.” You reply, causing everyone to laugh.

His large hand reaches for yours, tracing the lines on your palms before interlocking your fingers with his. His calloused thumb rubs the back of your hand gently, hiding back a smirk when you jolt slightly at the sensation.

“Are you okay, Y/n? You jumped in your seat. Was it a fly or something?” Greyson asks, putting all of the attention on you.

“Yep, I'm okay. Just hit my foot against the bar under the table, no worries.” You say through your teeth, hoping they move on and find a new topic to talk about.

“I've been working here for almost a full year and you're telling me there was a bar under the table? How have I not given myself bruises yet?” Yvonne's head dips under the table, and you immediately shove Zayne's hand away from you.

Heat rushes to your face and you tap your foot against the floor to calm down your racing heartbeat. “There actually is one! I think it's a miracle I haven't hit my foot against it yet. It's a sign that next year will go smoothly!” Unsure of what to say, you hum in agreement, picking up your fork to eat your lasagna with one hand as your other finds Zayne's under the table.

“Zayne, why are you eating your lasagna with one hand? Cutting just using a fork seems troublesome.” Greyson butts in, and you feel his hand grip yours tighter.

“I want to get more comfortable with using my left hand for surgeries. Is there a problem, Greyson?” Your boyfriend replies, causing Greyson to compliment him on his dedication for wanting to improve quickly.

Glancing at the clock, your shoulders relax as the time reaches 12:53. “Guys, we have seven more minutes before lunch ends. We should probably go.” Shoving the last bite of lasagna in, you give Zayne's hand a quick squeeze before heading off to put your plate away.

You sit in the large hall that Akso has rented out for the awards ceremony, admiring the blue decorations and banners that cover the walls as you await for the next award to be revealed. Looking over to Zayne who sits next to you, he gives you a gentle smile with a quiet nod which instantly calms your nerves.

“The last award to be announced will be the 'Most Promising Rookie Surgeon of the Year’. Will the nominees please stand up and make their way to the stage, please?” The hospital director asks and you smooth the material of your dress before standing up alongside Zayne.

Shuffling past others in the row to get to the front, the director notices you and Zayne. “Ah yes, the infamous double-trouble duo, Doctor L/n and Doctor Li. Doctor Zhou, you must have had your hands full with these two in the same department.” Everyone laughs as Doctor Zhou eagerly nods her head in agreement.

You make your way up the stage, intentionally walking slower up the stairs to prevent falling with your heels on. “With these two under our radar, our future patients will be in very good hands.” Standing side by side, you notice the large bouquet of flowers that will be given to the winner.

“Regardless of the results, being nominated for such an impressive award is truly an amazing feat. It only starts the future of an exciting career.” He smiles. “But alas, there must only one winner. The winner for the 'Most Promising Rookie Surgeon of the Year’ is… Doctor L/n!”

Loud cheers flood your ears, and you see everyone on the general surgery team giving you proud smiles and claps. Turning around to face Zayne, he smiles as if he holds all the stars in his eyes. “Congrats, my love.” His lips read.

You feel the large bouquet of flowers end up in your arms, and you're gently ushered towards the microphone for your short speech. “I— wow. Being a nominee was truly enough for me, but I would just like to thank all those who helped me get to this point. The lovely patients who taught me the importance of putting others before myself, the general surgery team especially my mentor, Doctor Zhou.” You face Zayne, and he nods, giving you confirmation.

You move the microphone slightly so you face him as you give your speech. “Most importantly, to my pillar of support. Zayne Li. I know that we had an extremely rocky start, but somewhere along the way, you understood me and helped me become someone that others could rely on. Thank you, my love.” The cheers start up again, and you take a celebratory picture with your flowers on stage.

Murmurs of the audience begin to rev up, people talking about how they find it hard to believe that the two people who wanted to take out each other's guts somehow became lovers.

The deadly combination of large flowers blocking your view and tall heels make you unstable on your feet as you walk towards the end of the stage. Above your view of the flowers, you notice Zayne making his way down the stairs and waits down at the bottom.

A familiar hand patiently hangs in the air, waiting for you to take it. You barely manage to hold your hand out and he stabilises you, preventing you from falling down the steps.

The murmurs immediately stop and are replaced with gasps, realising that you weren't lying about your relationship. Disappointed sighs are heard from certain members of the audience, with them talking about how they won't be able to shoot their shot with Zayne or you, making you smile up at Zayne.

Making your way back down to your seats, you hold the flowers in one hand and Zayne's hand in the other. He guides you to your seat, helping you place the flowers on the floor. Yvonne turns to you with a mischievous grin on her face as she asks you when you started to date Zayne. You laugh, elbowing her to stay quiet as the ceremony comes to a close.

Zayne holds your flowers as the entire general surgery department stand outside the hall. “So are you going to tell us exactly how this relationship started or am I going to need to hack into your phone?” Yvonne asks, eyeing your purse that Zayne conveniently also holds.

“That's going to take too long, I'm going to need a few hours for that one!” Yvonne's jaw drops, realising there is so much more to the story than she thought.

“The entire department hosted a bet about you guys.” You look at Zayne, who looks equally confused. “We wanted to see if the tension you guys had would either end up in one of you guys— or both— stabbing each other in the back or if you would end up together. Thankfully, Yvonne and I won.” Greyson high fives Yvonne whilst everyone else sighs, taking out large bills out of their wallets.

“If you told me last year I would be in a relationship with Zayne, I would have laughed in your face. Especially after I intentionally picked a fight with him after we met.” Zayne chuckles as he reminisces your first interaction.

“I had too much confidence for someone who thought it would be best to listen to instructions to a stranger instead of a receptionist on how to get to lecture hall C5.”

“C5? Darling, you asked me where lecture hall E5 was, not C5.” Your jaw drops, realising that this entire time, Zayne never meant to intentionally set you up and send you to the wrong place.

“Your reasoning for starting a six year feud was because he sent you to the wrong lecture hall?” Doctor Zhou asks, clearly amused.

“In my defence, I asked for C5 and not E5— he made me late to the first lecture that I desperately wanted to make a good first impression in. It was extremely loud that day, C and E do sound quite similar when you shout them at someone.” You grin, with everyone still shocked at your levels of pettiness.

“Anyways, I'm glad things ended well for us.” You say, and Zayne kisses your temple lovingly.

“I'm hungry.” Greyson sighs, pretending to not see your public display of affection.

“Should we go to the barbecue place for dinner?”

“As long as Y/n doesn't get too drunk and jump into the fountain, call a good friend before falling asleep after her makeup is removed.” Your boyfriend replies with a grin, and your hand flies up to cover his mouth.

“You did what?” Yvonne turns to face you in shock, her mouth open.

“Dinner sounds wonderful, Greyson!” You swiftly change the topic, turning on your heel as you walk towards your car. Zayne closely follows, his fingers tightly intertwined with yours.

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