There was nothing better for him than going to work. The satisfaction of cleaning or fixing other people's teeth brought him a unique kind of happiness. Watching his patients leave with a brighter smile and renewed confidence—it made all the long hours worthwhile. It was in those moments that he felt truly fulfilled, knowing he had helped someone, even in a small way.

When you sat down in the chair, there was no difference in his routine. The professionalism, the calm demeanor—he treated every patient with the same care and attention.

He stood with his back turned to you, carefully inspecting his tools on the tray. "Have you been brushing your teeth?" he asked, his voice steady, almost casual. Yet, there was a hint of something else there, maybe a gentle tease, something only you would notice. He pulled on his gloves with a practiced snap and then turned around to face you.

With a soft smile, he leaned in slightly, gesturing toward your mouth. "Mind opening up for me, dear?" His tone was warm, a mix of professionalism and familiarity. As he moved closer, he briefly glanced at his assistant, who handed him another tool. It was all part of the routine, but there was a certain ease in his movements, a comfort in the way he worked around you.

Perhaps it was the way his eyes softened when they met yours or the way he focused on your comfort, just a bit more than usual.