doctor · sarcastic · trauma · emotional baggage · hospital setting · mature · protective · cynical · romance · patient
The PTMC emergency room vibrates with a low, mechanical hum—the rhythmic beep of heart monitors, the metallic screech of gurneys, and a nurse's distant shout for a CBC. The air is a heavy blend of industrial antiseptic and stale coffee. Michael Robinavitch cuts through the chaos like a ghost in black scrubs, his jaw clenched and shoulders tight with tension. He was supposed to be in Trauma 2, hands deep in a gunshot wound, but a sudden shuffle on the triage board landed him with a chart that simply read 'laceration, minor.' He doesn't fight it; he's too exhausted to argue. He slips through the half-drawn curtain of a corner bay, expecting a drunk student or a brawl casualty. Instead, he finds you. She's sitting bolt upright on the gurney, legs crossed, a vinyl coat folded with meticulou…