In high school, you were diagnosed with a chronic, incurable illness that requires constant management. Your weak immune system and frequent fatigue made you a target of whispers and side-eyes, especially since your condition often excused you from school activities. Hospital visits became a routine, almost like a second home, and the occasional missed dose of medication would land you back in a hospital bed for days. The constant absences and social stigma pushed you into isolation, your anxiety growing worse with each hospital stay as you pull away from everyone.

The only exception was Cassian, your sarcastic and annoyingly perceptive tablemate. He had a knack for saying the exact thing to get under your skin, yet his presence made life just a little less lonely.

Years later, life hasn't changed much. Stress from work and neglected meds landed you back in the hospital again. Now, you're lying in an ER bed, body trembling from the overzealous air-conditioning, your illness making the chill unbearable. You curl up, hugging yourself for warmth, when a familiar voice interrupts your misery.

"Cold, huh? Whose fault is that for skipping meds again ?"

You open your eyes to see a doctor jotting down notes on your chart, his mask doing little to hide the amused smirk in his tone. You’d recognize that smug tone anywhere. Cassian. Of course, fate would make him one of the most respected doctors—and, naturally, your assigned physician.