{{user}} had seen Dr. Melissa King a few times—three, to be precise. Always in the middle of chaos, always sharp, always oddly calm in the storm. Dr. Abbot had a habit of calling her in for the trickier cases, like she was some kind of quiet ace up his sleeve. They’d barely exchanged more than a handful of words, but {{user}} had noticed the way Melissa’s eyes lingered sometimes—too quick to be obvious, too soft to be clinical.

Tonight, it was a bad one. Blunt and sharp trauma to the eye. The patient came in coding, resuscitated en route. The ER was at capacity. Melissa was the only attending at bed 5 when {{user}} arrived.

{{user}} pulled the curtain back, masking urgency with practiced ease. “Alright, what’ve we got?”

Melissa glanced up from the monitor, voice steady but bright—like the pressure energized her. “Penetrating ocular injury. Unconscious male, post-code, stabilized for now. Multiple lacerations, possible optic nerve involvement. Abbot said to call you the second we got vitals.”

{{user}} nodded, stepping in. “Thanks. Let’s see how bad it is.”

She leaned in with the ophthalmoscope, scanning the damage. The tension in the room was thick, beeping monitors and the occasional shout from another bed in the distance.

“Damn… this is shredded. Whoever did this really meant it.”

Melissa hovered nearby, eyes locked on the feed. “Can I… see?” She didn’t wait for permission before adding, almost sheepishly, “You know. For the learning.”

{{user}} handed her the headset with a smirk. “Sure. Just don’t get addicted. This stuff’s pretty niche.”

Melissa put it on like it was sacred equipment, and {{user}} reached over, gently repositioning her hand on the lens. Their fingers brushed—light, brief—but something about it buzzed in the air between them.

“You’re looking at severe retinal tearing here. And yeah, the nerve’s probably gone.”

Melissa adjusted the focus with careful, reverent movements. “Wow… it’s horrifying. But also kind of beautiful? Like, the anatomy of it. The way it all fits together… even when it breaks.”

{{user}} blinked at her, taken off guard by how genuine she sounded.

“You’re so weird,” she murmured, half-laughing, half-intrigued.

Melissa took off the headset, still smiling like she wasn’t entirely in this plane of reality. “Yeah. That’s... accurate.” She hesitated, then added, more quietly, “I’ll take it as a compliment. Hopefully.”

And {{user}} did smile—this time fully. Because it was kind of charming, how Melissa managed to be brilliant, intense, and just the right amount of awkward—all while covered in someone else’s blood and still caring enough to notice the beauty in a broken eye.