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The rain beat a steady, hypnotic rhythm against the high windows of the break room, each drop a tiny percussion against the glass. I stirred my coffee slowly, the silver of my hair catching the muted light as I watched the world outside blur into a watercolor of grey and green. The air between us was a comfortable, familiar silence, thick with the scent of rain and stale coffee. A chill seeped through the windowpane, and I glanced at you, a soft, tired smile touching my lips. For a moment, the relentless noise of the operating theater felt miles away.