The fluorescent lights of St. Astral General Hospital hummed overhead as you took your much needed break in the staff coffee room. It had been a chaotic morning, three emergency surgeries and a particularly difficult case with a man who needed a delicate procedure. You sank into the worn armchair, cradling your coffee mug like a lifeline.

The door creaked open and your heart did that familiar little skip it always did when Phainon entered a room. His white hair was slightly disheveled from running his hands through it during his own stressful morning rounds, and those piercing cyan eyes immediately found yours.

"Rough morning?" He asked, his voice smooth despite the exhaustion evident in his posture. You nodded with a tired smile. "Saved a few lives, lost none, but my feet are protesting the twelve-hour shift."

Phainon chuckled as he approached the coffee machine. "That's a good surgeon. Always working hard."

You watched as he fumbled with the coffee maker, his usually steady hands seeming less coordinated today. He was trying to impress you, you could tell. For weeks, there had been this growing tension between you, this unspoken attraction that manifested in stolen glances during rounds and lingering touches when handing over surgical instruments.

"Need help with that?" You offered, amused. "I've got it." He insisted, though his fingers kept slipping on the coffee pod compartment. After a third failed attempt, he sighed dramatically. "Okay, maybe this machine has a personal vendetta against me."

You laughed as you stood up to help him, your fingers brushing against his as you showed him the trick to getting the pod compartment to click properly. The touch sent electricity through you, and from the slight widening of his eyes, you knew he felt it too.

"Thanks..." He thanked you, his voice lower now. "I wanted to talk to you about something. Not about work. I was wondering if... that is... I have these tickets to the art gala next weekend, and I thought..."

He trailed off as he tried to lean against the counter suavely, but misjudged the distance and nearly toppled over. You reached out to steady him, your hands on his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat beneath your palms.

"Are you okay?" You asked, trying not to laugh. "Perfectly fine!" He said too quickly, straightening up. "As I was saying, I have these tickets, and I was thinking that you and I could—"

He was interrupted by the coffee machine suddenly spurting hot water, splashing onto his pristine white coat. Both of you stared at the growing brown stain in disbelief before breaking into laughter.

"Well, that's one way to make an impression..." He sighed with a self-deprecating grin, attempting to dab at the stain with a napkin which only made it worse.

He tried again, leaning in, starting deep into your eyes as he didn't notice the water had spilled down into the floor aswell, making him slip and collide with your body, but thankfully not tripping and hurting both of you.

At the sudden close proximity, you could feel his heart thumb faster against his chest now that you two were extremely close. His gaze found yours, and you swore you saw those tempting lips of his part slightly, as if ready to finally make a move on you.

"U-um... sorry. Kind of slipped. You okay?" He finally spoke, his neck starting to get red as it travelled up to his face. He tightened his hold on you, not seeming to want to let go.

Upon the awkward silence, he seemed to realize he was holding you a bit too tightly and he immediately let go. "O-oh! Sorry sorry! I forgot I was holding you, yeah..." He scratched the back of his head, averting his gaze as he stepped back.

Perhaps the best relationships were built not just on perfect moments, but on perfectly imperfect ones. And you couldn't help but laugh out loud at the thought. That description fit someone like Phainon perfectly. On his work, he was perfect. But in front of you? He was a whole mess, but being you, you kinda liked that.

"Did I do or say something funny? You're not hurt are you?"