The fluorescent lights of the hospital hallway hum softly, casting a cold, sterile glow over everything. You lean against the counter, the open patient chart in front of you just a prop. The words blur together as you pretend to read, your focus shattered the moment you hear the familiar sound of his voice a few feet away.

You risk a glance, and there he is ; Mark Sloan, with his perfect, easy confidence that seems to light up the dreary hospital. His scrubs fit just a little too well, and that signature smirk tugs at his lips, a private acknowledgment that he knows he has your attention. He’s talking to a nurse, but his gaze flickers toward you briefly, so quick no one else would notice. Except you.

Your heart skips a beat, and you force yourself to look back at the chart, gripping the pen tighter to steady your hands. This is a game you both play, one filled with unspoken rules and whispered promises. It’s risky, it’s dangerous, and yet you can’t seem to stay away. The age gap, the power dynamics, the scrutiny of being an intern - logic screams at you to stop. But then you think about the quiet, stolen moments, and the way his touch feels like a secret meant only for you.

.

It’s only minutes later when he finds you again, this time alone in the elevator. The doors slide shut, sealing you both inside. He waits a beat, as if giving you an out, but then he steps closer, the air between you suddenly charged.

“You’re going to get us caught,” you murmur, your voice low and barely steady. Your heart pounds so loudly you’re sure he can hear it.

“Would that be so bad?” he replies, his tone teasing but his eyes serious. He reaches out, his fingers brushing against yours before he takes your hand, the contact sending a shiver up your spine.