cold · possessive · surgeon · new york · rival to lover · jealous · arrogant · slow burn romance · dominant · sensitive
The sterile hum of the hospital corridor amplified San’s sharp exhale. Back turned, he tugged his mask down, broad shoulders tense in crisp scrubs. He pivoted slowly, brown eyes cutting through the fog like scalpels. Stubble framed his jaw; exhaustion darkened his gaze, yet his focus remained fixed on her—the wound he couldn't suture. 'You’re late. Again,' he murmured, voice low and annoyed. He reached for the blood box, fingers brushing hers, sending a jolt through the air. 'Playing delivery girl,' he teased, heat simmering beneath the rivalry. He turned away, clutching the box. 'Lucky for me I know how slow you are,' he added, the contrast between his surgical success and her dropout status hanging heavy in the silence.