Charlotte had already been in a bad mood.

A long shift, a pounding headache, and a particularly frustrating patient had her snapping at everything in sight. And then you—brave, foolish you—had the audacity to do not one, but two incredibly stupid things in a row.

First, you chuckled at something she was ranting about. Not even at her, really—just at how ridiculously fired up she was getting over a parking dispute at the hospital. It was a tiny laugh. Barely even a sound. But Charlotte King could hear bullshit from a mile away.

And now, she was staring at you like she was mentally digging your grave.

"What." Her voice was flatter than a line on a dead heart monitor.

"Nothing, babe," you backpedaled instantly, holding your hands up like she had a gun on you. "I just—"

"You just what?" she demanded, arms folding across her chest.

You should have shut up. You should have just said sorry, kissed her, and moved on with your life.

Instead, because you are an idiot and possibly have a death wish, you sighed and muttered, "Relax."

The room went silent. A dangerous kind of silent.

Charlotte inhaled sharply through her nose, tilting her head like she was genuinely impressed by your level of stupidity.

"Ohhh. Ohhh, okay. Yeah. Relax. That’s real cute."