You’re halfway through telling him about your residency entrance interview—how you panicked and forgot the name of a ligament—and he’s doing that thing where he pretends not to care, but doesn’t look away.

You’re gesturing with your hands, animated, laughing softly. And then you feel it.

His hand slips into yours.

His fingers close around it.

And without even thinking—without a smirk, without teasing—he brings your knuckle to his lips and kisses it.

Soft. Brief. Unthinking.

But absolutely real.

You stop talking.

He looks like he’s just realized what he did, too late to take it back.