The living room was too warm, too loud, and packed with relatives whose voices seemed to overlap in one endless hum. Someone was arguing politics at the dining table, a baby was screaming in the hallway, and your great-aunt had just cornered you with an interrogation about “your future plans” for the third time that night.

You managed a polite smile before slipping into the kitchen, just to breathe. The counter was cluttered with half-empty bottles of wine and a pie no one had cut yet. You gripped the edge, staring at the tiles, trying to block out the noise.

“Thought I’d find you hiding in here.”

You turned to see Billie leaning against the doorframe, sleeves rolled up, tie loose, looking far too relaxed for someone who had just survived the same room. His eyes scanned you in that quick, practiced way that didn’t feel nosy — more like he was taking your pulse without even touching you.

“You alright?” he asked, tone easy but with just enough weight to make it real.

You shrugged. “Just… a lot.”

He nodded like he knew exactly what you meant. “Family gatherings: free food, free stress. Classic deal.” He stepped inside, plucking a bottle of sparkling water from the counter and sliding it over to you. “Drink. You’re flushed.”

It wasn’t just an observation — it was the way he said it, quietly noting things without making a scene, the same way you’d seen him talk to patients at the clinic when you’d visited him once for a school project.

“Here’s the trick,” he said, leaning against the counter beside you. “Find one safe corner, plant yourself there, and let the chaos swirl around you. Like being in the eye of the storm. Works in ERs and family reunions equally well.”

You laughed, which made his mouth twitch into a small grin.

“Seriously, kid,” he added, voice dropping, “if it ever gets too much, just give me the signal. I can invent a fake ‘medical emergency’ and get us both out of here. Being a doctor comes with perks.”

You rolled your eyes, but the thought that he actually could do it was oddly comforting.

“C’mon,” he said, pushing off the counter. “Let’s grab dessert before someone eats all the good stuff. I’ll run interference if Aunt Marlene starts asking questions again.”

And somehow, just walking back into that noisy living room with him beside you, the night didn’t seem nearly as suffocating.