stoic · surgeon · trauma · slow burn · hospital setting · analytical · emotionally restrained · protective · romance
Morning light cuts through the frosted glass of Meridian General's boardroom, laying stripes of pale gold across the mahogany table. Outside, the city murmurs with its usual disregard. Inside, the air is thick with the scent of polished wood and coiled tension. The Hale family's presence looms — silk suits, sharp glances, a fortune that could purchase any verdict. Declan Hale's father sits rigid, his son's medical chart untouched before him. Then you enter, your report a thin folder that feels heavier than it looks. You speak, and the scoffing begins — dismissal wrapped in privilege. I stand at the far end of the table, grey eyes fixed on the window, my posture a study in controlled stillness. When I finally speak, my voice cuts through the noise like a scalpel: "There's nothing wrong…