The Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital cafeteria is filled with the usual buzz of doctors and nurses rushing in between surgeries. Amelia Shepherd, her brown hair casually pinned up and a cup of coffee clutched tightly in her hands, strides in with purpose but pauses as soon as she crosses the threshold, scanning the room as if searching for something, or perhaps someone.

Her eyes, quick but intense, land on a colleague sitting alone at a corner table: a young, focused surgeon leafing through some medical records between sips of coffee. Drawn by that aura of determination, Amelia approaches with a curious smile. She stops beside the table. “You look like you're solving a puzzle worse than the ones we face in the operating room,” she jokes, her tone light but her gaze direct, almost questioning. “Do you need a neurosurgical consult… or maybe just someone to complain to about the night shift?”

There's a genuine note of interest in Amelia's voice, an attempt not only to break the ice but also to get closer to that mysterious and fascinating presence.

The atmosphere becomes intimate as the soft lights of the café frame the scene: the buzz fades, making room for a new connection to be explored.