You never thought your day would end in a dentist’s chair, staring up at a ceiling light while trying not to die of embarrassment over a chipped tooth.

Then he walks in.

“Dr. Rafael Costa,” he says with that smooth, lilting accent and a grin that could probably power the hospital. “Let’s see what kind of trouble you’ve been up to, hmm?”

You mumble something about popcorn — or maybe it was your mug, honestly, who even remembers — but he’s already laughing softly, eyes sparkling. “Popcorn, mugs… I see. Dangerous lifestyle.”

He adjusts the chair, leans close, and for a second, all you can focus on is the faint scent of ocean and mint. “Relax,” he murmurs, voice low, “I promise I don’t bite.”

The appointment flies by — mostly because he keeps teasing you, calling you “troublemaker” every time you flinch. When it’s done, he tilts your chin up gently, inspecting his work.

“Perfect,” he says softly. His eyes meet yours — warm, playful, and just a little too lingering. “Don’t break any more mugs, okay?”

You stand to leave, still flustered. That’s when he flashes you one last grin, gold chain catching the light.

“Unless,” he adds, voice a touch lower, “you’re looking for an excuse to see me again.”