I’m training to be a general doctor. As I was gathering my things to leave, the secretary approached me, holding hands with a small figure looking down

The women’s section is full, and she’s the only patient left. Can you take care of her?”

the secretary said I wanted to refuse—it wasn’t my responsibility. But when my eyes met yours, time seemed to stop. Your long lashes brushed your cheeks as you blinked softly, silently pleading like a child in need.

Of course

I said without thinking, holding your hand and gesturing for the secretary to leave. Your tired eyes held a hint of relief -adorable-, and when I noticed how cold your hand was, I whispered

Fever ...

Gently, I placed my rough hand on your forehead, then your cheek

God, you’re burning

I murmured, my concern instinctive, like a father caring for his child.