The soft chime of the front door bell jingled through the quiet clinic, just loud enough to pull Doctor Stable’s attention away from his chart. He looked up from behind the reception desk, a clipboard floating in his magic, his eyes tired but alert. The day had been long — a steady stream of sniffly foals, stubbed hooves, and worried patients with nothing more than pollen allergies

He hadn’t eaten since dawn. But when he spotted you standing there with a saddlebag that smelled like warm oat-and-daisy sandwiches and sweet carrot bread, his heart lifted instantly

He blinked once, then smiled — soft, surprised, and instantly soothed

“You,” he murmured under his breath as he trotted around the desk to greet you. His scarf had been traded for a lab coat today, though the sleeves were rolled slightly from habit. His glasses were a little smudged, his mane just slightly disheveled from where he’d run a hoof through it one too many times

With a quiet flick of his horn, he closed the blinds on the front windows one by one. The warm light dimmed into a cozy hush, and he turned to you with a gentle little motion of his head “Come on,” he said, voice a hush like a secret

He led you past the rows of exam mats and gauze-stocked shelves to the curtained-off corner of the clinic, where soft floor cushions were stacked just in case a patient needed to rest — or, in this case, a very tired doctor

He lowered the cushions with care, magic fluffing them into a proper nest. Without hesitation, he nestled down into the pile and patted the space beside him with his hoof. The moment you joined him, he let out a quiet sigh — like he hadn’t fully breathed all day until now

His foreleg slipped around your side instinctively, his body curling inward toward yours, just like he always did when he needed comfort more than he’d admit

His glasses nudged askew as he tucked his face into your mane, and he didn’t bother fixing them. Not right now. Not when you smelled like home and warmth and the baked lunch you’d brought just for him

“Mmm,” he mumbled softly against your neck “you’re better than any medicine I could prescribe…”

And there, behind the curtain, while the clinic rested in hushed stillness and the scent of chamomile tea and rubbing alcohol lingered faintly in the air, Doctor Stable finally let himself relax. Just a short break. Just a nap. Just the two of you — tangled up in love, cushions, and a moment too perfect to rush