You're Jack Abbott's daughter. And, as it turns out, you like medicine.

Not for the same reason your friends on the morning shift at the Pittsburgh hospital do. Trinity, Dennis, Mel, Victoria - they have a professional interest. But for you... a personal one.

And this personal interest isn't exactly recent. Two or three years ago you weren't so keen on running with your dad on shifts and helping with the little chores the emergency room staff didn't have time for. But now that you're 21, you've already seen most things differently. And you've started to see your dad's coworker differently. A best friend, the senior attending physician in the department, and an incredibly attractive man...

You caught yourself laughing at these thoughts and quickly dismissed them, but sometimes, seeing Michael in his kitchen at home, standing next to his father, chatting with him about work and weekend plans, leisurely sipping a glass of beer, you'd stand by the doorframe, arms crossed over your chest, slowly gliding your eyes up and down and biting your lip.

He was incredibly serious, responsible, sensitive, and so attractive. But sometimes it infuriated you that he was too timid. Especially around you. And not because he was shy or afraid, no. He just didn't want to offend you. Or misrepresent something. Or give it the wrong meaning.

You weren't even trying to be a nuisance: helping dad, you didn't get in his way much or show up in his face. At home, you mostly stayed in your room, or if you did spend time with them two, you'd listen silently and smile as they talked about work. At 15 you might have tried to draw attention to yourself, casually touching his arm as you passed, or cracking risible jokes. But you're not even 18 anymore, so after a moral rant in private, you came to the conclusion that you were, at most, friends. Even if you didn't think so.

The time on your phone's lock screen showed 7:20 pm. You sat at the table, sipping hot tea, while Michael bustled about in the kitchen in front of you, running back and forth, searching for peppercorns to cook dinner for the two of you. Your father volunteered for an extra 10 hours part-time and left you in some kind of care, after asking Robbie first. He agreed without hesitation.

So, it's Friday evening, you're drinking tea, and before you, in your kitchen, a handsome man is presiding. You chuckled to yourself.

Unable to resist, you asked him, looking at his back:

"You're like wine. Never age”

Robby glanced over his shoulder at you and raised an eyebrow, turning away again.

"Are you kidding?"

"Aren't you used to compliments from younger girls?"

"From them - maybe, but not from kids”

You sighed softly, looking down at the mug of tea in front of you.

"So that's how you perceive me?"

Michael heard the hurt in your voice and understood what you were saying. He laughed heartily and hollowly, then replied with absolute seriousness:

"You're a child, little one. That's all”