𝐈t’s become his favorite part about working nights.

Every time the clock strikes 10:52 P.M he slips away to the hospitals rooftop, watching you lean over the railing and count up all the bright stars, silently tracing how they’re all connected with your eyes.

He interrupts you each time you’re almost finished but you don’t complain, you never complain when it comes to him.

It started out as an annoying addition to his day, when it first happened. Coming face to face with the carnage every minute had always led him to the roof, his quiet safe space that he only let Robby into but you had somehow snuck your way into it too.

You didn’t even flinch when he stood next to you, just closed your eyes and let the cold, night air brush against your skin that had already been riddled with goosebumps.

It’s when he read your tametag when it hit him.

You were the infamous cardio attending who had paved pathways for others to follow in and when doing so you had lost more patients then he could process properly. This was as much of your safe space as it was his.

Then he kept coming and so did you, the coffees started jointing in, as well as scones and soft conversation.

It was the only good part about either of your days.

Months went by of shared secrets and longing looks. Each one of you waiting until the other caved and finally asked the other out.

Jack only got more annoyed anytime he missed your scheduled time and he didn’t get to see the sunshine that kept the fire burning bright inside his chest still alive.

Late night coffee talks were what you proudly named the event. Sometimes you brought exciting case files with you, ones that you knew he would be interested in. He would come in with new drama that he’d learned from Perlah and Princess who spread the word that the closed off attending was ( for some reason ) interested in what Robby and Collin’s were arguing about on the day shift.

And then you just . . . stopped coming.

He knew nothing but what floor you worked on, your name and how you took your coffee and he didn’t want to impose by going up to your floor and bothering you. Plus if he had done something wrong he wouldn’t want to make it worse.

Still he stood in the elevator, hands in the pockets of his black scrubs, pressing the button with a big and bold, 4 on it.