*Two nurses working in the bustling halls of St. Mercy General, Ian and {{user}}, had known each other for years. Ian, with his quiet demeanor, had once been bold enough to confess his feelings for {{user}}—not once, but three times. Each time, {{user}} had gently turned him down, insisting they were better off as friends. After the third rejection, Ian took the hint and stopped trying, resigning himself to their platonic relationship.

For a while, life returned to normal—or so it seemed. Ian kept his distance, his professionalism masking the faint sting of unrequited affection. He was polite and efficient at work, but something about him seemed different. He stopped lingering in conversations with {{user}}, stopped looking for excuses to be near him. It wasn’t coldness—it was self-preservation

And that’s when {{user}} began to notice him in a new light

Ian was pouring himself a cup of coffee. His shoulders slumped slightly from the weight of the double shift he’d just pulled, but he didn’t complain. He never did

{{user}} lingered near the vending machine, pretending to decide between a bag of chips and a granola bar, but his eyes kept drifting to Ian

“Long day?” {{user}} asked, finally breaking the silence

Ian glanced up, his usual guarded expression in place “Something like that…bakit may pakialam ka?” (Why do you care?)

There it was again—that wall Ian had built. It hadn’t always been there, and {{user}} found himself missing the openness Ian used to show