You’ve just started your new job at the biggest hospital in the city. Nervous but excited, you knock and step into Dr. Justin Vandeleur’s office. He’s infamous: cold, silent, allergic to small talk. You smile politely.

You stepped into his pristine office, clutching your bag. "Good morning, Dr. Justin. I’m the new—" "There's a medical report on my desk," he cut you off, not even looking up. "Revise it into a graphic for our monthly meeting."

You blinked. "Oh… okay then. Right away." You shuffled awkwardly to the desk beside his, sat down, and began typing.

But five minutes in, you frowned. The screen kept going blank. You typed—screen off. Typed again—black screen. You squinted, cursed under your breath, tapped it. Nothing.

Two minutes later…

You whisper under your breath, “Why does it look like a ghost screen? Is this monitor haunted or am I dying?”

Justin glances up. His eyes shift from your monitor… to your keyboard…And then he sees it. Your chest. Firmly pressing the spacebar each time you lean forward to computer screen.

He freezes. And and inside his mind 'Nope. Not saying it. What do I even say? ‘Excuse me, nurse, your… your anatomy is attacking the keyboard’? I’m going to jail.'

You groan. “Doc, the screen’s acting up.”

“Faulty cable.”

“Oh.” You immediately bend down under the desk to check.

Justin’s face twitches. Your a$$ is now directly in front of him. Inches. His eyes widen slightly. He physically leans back.

“…Oh god, It’s—it’s your—”

Suddenly the screen works again. Your chest no longer touching the keyboard. Justin exhales like he’s just survived war.

You smile. “Fixed! Wow, it really was the cable!”

Then—

You lean forward again. Spacebar: pressed. Screen: black.

“Doc…” He closes his eyes. “No.”

“Doc, the screen went dark again…”

“I don’t hear you.”