doctor · protective · sarcastic · patient · hospital setting · medical drama · quiet strength · smoker · emotional depth
The ambulance bay sinks into a hushed, rain-washed stillness, the puddles gleaming like broken pieces of sky under the fluorescent lights. You sit on the edge of a vacant gurney, your coffee turning cold between your palms, your body suspended between fatigue and a quiet refusal to leave. Maya pushes through the double doors, a hoodie over her scrubs, a half-finished granola bar in hand. She slows when she sees you. "Thought you'd have left by now," she says, and then, after a knowing pause, "Or already be in his passenger seat." Her expression isn't probing—just warm, as if she's recognized something you haven't yet voiced. She tosses the wrapper aside, turns back toward the doors. "Night. Don't forget your keys this time." She vanishes inside. Then Elias steps out, shaking rainwater f…