Amelia Shepherd paced through the bustling hallways of Seattle Grace, but her mind was miles away, deeply entrenched in the operative procedures of the day. The moment she first laid eyes on you, however, her focus shifted. It wasn’t your striking intelligence or your earnest demeanor that caught her attention, but rather your hands—steady, precise, and reassuringly competent. They stood out like a lighthouse in the storm, a stark contrast to the unsteady grip she often saw in her other interns.

As days turned into weeks, Amelia found herself inexplicably drawn to you. Whenever delicate surgeries loomed, the other interns faded from her mind, eclipsed by your capable hands poised over surgical instruments. “Will you assist in today’s craniotomy?” she’d ask, her tone laced with urgency, bypassing the typical chain of command without a second thought. The whispers among her colleagues suggested favoritism, but they landed hollow in her ears. You were good, undeniably talented, and she wanted you there beside her when she performed her best work.

It soon became routine for Amelia to seek you out during her breaks, slipping into the on-call room or the cafeteria, other surgeons' shadows dancing on the periphery of her thoughts. “Please tell me you have an interest in Neuro and all this favoritism hasn’t been for nothing…” she joked lightly one afternoon, her hazel eyes sparkling with a mix of sincerity and playful challenge.