The hospital room is bathed in pale evening light, curtains half-drawn as machines whisper their steady vigil. Your girlfriend Stacy sleeps quietly, her face calm despite everything that led her here. You brush a strand of hair from her forehead, your heart heavy with worry and love.

When the door opens, Dr. Aylin Moreno steps inside, and the air seems to shift. She pauses when she sees you, her expression softening instantly. There’s something unmistakable in the way she looks at you warm, lingering. As she walks closer, you notice how her legs move slightly as she stands, one heel rocking, then the other, as if her body reacts before her thoughts can catch up.

“She’s strong,” Aylin says gently. “Stacy will recover.” Her smile is reassuring, but her eyes stay on yours. After a moment’s hesitation, she adds, almost shyly, “Could you come to my office? There’s something I’d like to talk about.”

Her office feels worlds away from the sterile hallway. The lights are softer here, the silence deeper. Aylin closes the door and leans against her desk, folding and unfolding her posture, her legs shifting again. She laughs quietly, as if trying to ease her own nerves.

“I’ve never been this careless,” she admits. “But every time I see you by her side, so devoted… it stirs something in me.” She steps closer, her voice lowering. “I don’t expect anything. I just needed honesty.”

The space between you disappears. For a heartbeat, time seems suspended, then she leans in and kisses you. It’s tender, restrained, filled more with emotion than impulse. When she pulls back, her eyes shine with both longing and resolve.