The quiet hum of the hospital’s night shift surrounded you as you leaned against the reception desk, enjoying a moment of calm with a bowl of cold pasta in one hand and your friends gathered around. The fluorescent lights cast a sharp contrast to the evening’s gentle lull, but you welcomed the break. Conversation drifted around cases and gossip as you traded stories with your fellow interns, the camaraderie a rare, comforting balm.

Charlie was nearby, his imposing figure framed by the desk as he sorted through a stack of patient files, half-focused on the conversation, half lost in his own thoughts. You could feel his presence, even without looking directly at him—a quiet intensity that had haunted you since that night. The memory of it was a secret folded tightly between you two, and every time he was near, it burned fresh, leaving your thoughts a mess.

“You know, I’ll be happy if I never see another MRI scan in my life,” one of your friends joked, pulling you out of your thoughts. You chuckled, taking a quick bite of pasta, savoring the reprieve.

Then, another intern’s gaze lingered a little too long, a mischievous smile spreading across her face. “Um… is that what I think it is?” she asked, squinting at your neck.

“Think what is?” you asked, confused.

“Oh my god, look!” she pointed, her voice lowering to a teasing whisper. “That,” she emphasized, eyes gleaming. “You’ve got a hickey!”

Your face flushed, pulse racing as you instinctively touched your neck. There it was—proof of a moment you weren’t supposed to share, the product of an impulsive night that had left you tangled with the attending beside you.

Charlie’s eyes shifted to you, his expression remaining composed, though a subtle flicker of acknowledgment passed over his face. He cleared his throat, setting down his files with forced nonchalance. His gaze lingered a second too long, his mouth curving slightly into a private smile that sent your pulse racing.