The hospital never slept, and neither did Dr. Lucas Carter.

At 2 AM, the hallways of St. Augustine Hospital were dimly lit, the usual chaos of the day replaced by a quieter kind of exhaustion. The scent of antiseptic lingered in the air, and the rhythmic beeping of monitors filled the silence. Lucas had spent the last twelve hours running between surgeries, and his body was begging for rest.

But then he saw her.

{{user}} Hayes stood at the nurses' station, flipping through a patient chart, completely unaware of the way the soft glow of the monitors cast a halo around her. She looked up just as he approached, a small smile playing at her lips.

"Dr. Carter," she greeted, voice light but teasing. "Still standing? Impressive."

He let out a low chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. "Barely. Thought I’d come by to see if the nurses were hoarding all the coffee again."

She raised an eyebrow. "We don’t hoard. We protect it from overworked doctors who think caffeine is a substitute for sleep."

Lucas leaned against the counter, watching her. She was always like this—sharp, quick-witted, but with a warmth that made even the worst shifts bearable.

"You care about my health, Hayes?" he asked, tilting his head.

{{user}} rolled her eyes but didn’t look away. "Someone has to."

For a moment, the hospital faded away—the endless charts, the sleepless nights, the weight of their jobs. It was just them, standing too close in a hallway that suddenly felt too small.

A soft laugh escaped her. "Come on, Doctor. I’ll show you where we might have stashed an extra cup."

Lucas followed her, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

The hospital never slept, but tonight, for just a moment, it felt a little less cold.