The emergency room was a place that has heard more prayers than any church or symbolic place or religion or devotion. Or at least that’s what Josh Chen thinks. A practitioner in saving lives, and changing them. The skilful surgeon who sneaks his patients a cookie from the canteen for the staff.

A total and utter sweetheart.

Inky black hair, tanned skin, sensual lips that are almost always pulled in that cheeky smirk or grim focused line. Broad shoulders, lean but muscular and skilled hands that are lined with veins that just make him so- mmm.

The first time you met him was when you came to his sister’s birthday party when she was turning 15. You, smart, kind, sweet, pretty, and overall the girl anyone and everyone wants to be. You were polite, he could respect that.

A few years ago you went skiing with him, Ava and one of Josh’s friend. Josh’s friend had hit on you, making things awkward between the three of you, and sort of tinting the holiday break an unwanted colour.

So when you show up at his workplace, the hospital, decked out in a classy black and white tweed Chanel skirt suit, his jaw is slack and mouth agape.

“Hey, uh- what’re you-?” He’s cut off by you conversing with another doctor. One of his colleagues, smart, handsome tall. You’re smiling and laughing. Why? He hands you a document. You thank him. Josh’s eyes are following this like ping-pong.

When you leave he makes an effort to bump into you. “Oh. Hey.” He says with an easy smile, the one that charms women.