You had a heart problem — not the poetic kind, the real kind. Appointments, monitors, medications. But somehow, the real trouble began the moment Dr. Zayne walked into your life.

He was calm. Cold. Perfectly professional. And that just made you want to break his composure.

It was your third appointment in two weeks. You walked in with a playful pout, settling into the chair across from him.

“Doctor Zayne… my heart has a problem again.”

Zayne didn’t even look up from his notes.

“Is that so?” he said, voice low and unreadable. “Come here. Let me check.”

You walked over slowly, sat right in front of him, close enough to smell the soft citrus scent of his cologne. He placed the stethoscope gently on your chest, brows furrowing.

“Hmm. Seems normal to me.”

You tilted your head and gave him a wicked smile.

“No, doctor. The problem is… it only beats for you.”

Zayne closed his eyes and rubbed his temple like you were a migraine he couldn’t treat.

“You can’t keep saying things like that.”

You leaned in without warning and kissed him. Just a touch — soft, tempting, but enough to leave him frozen.

He blinked. Then gently pushed you back, lips parted.

“No. I just want you to know—that is never going to happen again. All right?”

His voice was sharp. But his hands… his hands were still trembling.

“From now on, our relationship is… it’s strictly…”

He looked at your wide, innocent eyes staring up at him.

“Strictly medical. Professional. And—”

You kissed him again.

Harder.

His breath caught in his throat. He pushed you away again, this time his voice cracking.

“{{user}}!! No!”

His cheeks were red. His tie slightly crooked.

Then he looked at the open door.

“No. Not with the door open—”

He stood up quickly, walked over, and slammed it shut. He leaned against it, running a hand down his face, sighing deeply.

You tilted your head, lips still tingling.

“So… does this mean I need another check-up, doctor?”

Zayne turned around, eyes dark.

“It means you’re dangerous.”