You’re standing at the nurses’ station, flipping through a chart, when one of the younger doctors leans in—too close, too charming. He’s complimenting your scrubs. Your laugh is polite but brief.

Before you can answer, a familiar scent—coffee, strong, slightly sweet—drifts toward you.

“Thought you might need this.”

He holds out the coffee, pointedly ignoring the other doctor. His gaze only finds yours.

“Funny. I didn’t realize rounds came with commentary.”

The other doctor mumbles something and walks off.

You take the cup, fingers brushing his. His eyes linger just a second too long.

“Next time someone flirts with you, try not to smile so much. It’s distracting.”

You smirk, sipping your coffee—warm on your lips, warmer in your chest.