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The bright lights of Akso Hospital feel a little too harsh today. Rubbing my temple, I push forward through the stark white hallways. My body feels heavy and sluggish, like I’m wading through water.
I just need a pleasant distraction, a sight for sore eyes. Something—someone—to take my mind off how miserable I feel.
Zayne.
The thought about him alone makes my steps a little lighter. He always has a way of making things better, whether he realizes it or not. I even catch myself looking forward to his inevitable scolding for neglecting my health. There’s something oddly comforting about how Dr. Zayne looks after me in his own special way.
As I turn around the corner, I spot him in his usual office, the door still open. Zayne is in deep conversation with a nurse. Though I can’t hear their exchange, I can make out his steady and professional voice. She hands him a patient chart before leaving through the other door. He exhales a quiet sigh, taking off his silver-framed glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. His grimace is brief, but telling. He looks... exhausted. What was once a good idea now feels selfish.
Others need his attention far more than I do. Maybe I should just leave.
I take a step back, ready to turn away. It is then that Zayne lifts his head, and his hazel-green eyes lock onto mine.
“It’s you.”
He motions for me to come in. My feet move on their own and I step inside. I close the door behind me, muffling the sounds of the busy hospital. The space is quiet, save for the faint rustle of papers as Zayne sets aside the patient chart.
“I didn’t expect to see you here," he says calmly, smoothing back his black hair before slipping his glasses back on. "Why are you here?"
I hesitate, hugging my arms around myself. “I was nearby and thought I’d drop in.”
A small yawn escapes my lips. His sharp gaze sweep over me, taking in every detail—Including my sluggish posture and the way I unconsciously press a hand against my abdomen.
Zayne leans back against his desk, arms crossing over his chest. “You’re not feeling well.” It’s not a question.
“No, I’m... *yawn* fine.”
Before I can answer, he steps closer, leaning in to examine my face.
“That’s your second yawn in less than a minute,” he notes, eyes narrowing. “Haven’t been sleeping well?”
“Well—” I start, but he cuts me off.
“You’re pale too, which could indicate iron deficiency. Have you been eating? Or have you been injured on a mission? Lost blood again? That would explain—”
I press a hand over his mouth, stopping him from spiralling.
“Zayne, relax. I have eaten and I’m not injured. It’s only my period. It’s uncomfortable, that’s it.”
His gaze flickers with surprise before he gently takes my wrist, lowering my hand from his lips.
“Your period? Hmm, that is surprising.” He walks over to his notebook, flipping through the pages.
“Surprising? Surprising how?” I ask curiously, just as he seemingly finds what he was looking for.
“According to my data you should still be in your luteal phase. Your period wasn’t due for another three days. You’re early.”
He tilts his head slightly, fingers resting against his chin as if deep in thought.
“I’m only a few days early, it’s not a big deal, really.” I try to laugh it off, playfully pinching his side to wake him up from his pondering.
“In the past fifteen menstrual cycles you have never been too early.” He looks up at me with that concerned look I know all too well. “The only conclusion I can reach is that you’ve been overexerting yourself to the point that it’s disrupting your hormone balance.”
I lower my eyes, feeling like a child caught sneaking candy from the jar.
Ah, there’s that scolding about my health that I missed.
Zayne carefully lifts my chin, his fingertips lingering for a second. “When did your period start?”
“Uhm, yesterday,” I reply feeling a bit self conscious under his sharp stare.
He freezes for half a second, so quick I almost miss it. Then, he turns to jot down the new date in his notebook before setting it aside.
“Why didn’t you let me know sooner? You should have called.”
I look away, fiddling with the hem of my sleeve. “You seemed busy. And clearly you are.”
He exhales sharply, rubbing his temple. “I am. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t come to me when you need me.”
His warm words settle deep in my chest. It feels nice.
“How bad is it?”
I blink up at him. “Huh?”
He gestures vaguely at me. “Your pain.”
“Oh.” I shrug. “Not the worst, but pretty annoying.”
There it is again, that look as if the world has stopped spinning for a second.
“You should still take it seriously. Please rest here for a bit,” he replies calmly, gesturing to the empty bed in his office space.
“Oh no, I couldn’t. I can just go and rest at h-.” Suddenly a sharp pain flares up in my stomach. I wince, unable to finish my sentence.
Stupid cramps.
Zayne chuckles softly. He places his hands gently on my shoulders and guides me toward the bed.
“Doctor’s orders,” he says with an air of authority. I can never deny him when he gets like this. As I remove my shoes, I watch him move toward a cabinet. He pulls out a small bottle of painkillers before he walks back to me. Zayne reaches out and drops two tiny pills unto my palm.
“Here, take these. These will dissolve on your tongue and taste sweet.”
I raise an eyebrow, pretending to be offended. “Wait, is this what you usually give your younger patients?”
“What if it is? It works just as well, and the taste is more pleasant.” I follow his instructions as I settle into the bed.
He adjusts the blanket over me. “I’m going to rearrange my schedule, so I can take you home. I need to stop by the paediatric ward first.”
“Are you sure that’s okay?” I ask hesitantly, not wanting to interfere with his important work.
“Of course. You are my patient as well. I’ll come back this evening to finish up.”
I nod quietly, watching as he leaves the room. His crisp, white coat is the last thing I see before my eyelids grow heavy.
Was I really this tired?
It doesn’t take long before I’ve drifted into a comfortable slumber.
____________________________
A familiar scent surrounds me, waking me from my sleep. I feel weightless, wrapped in a warm embrace. A faint breeze brushes against my skin, carrying the distant sounds of the city.
Then, suddenly, the floating sensation stops. A soft thud follows.
I groggily open my eyes, my vision adjusting to the dim lighting. The first thing I see is Zayne’s face, mere inches from mine. His arms are still around me, as he carefully lowers me into the backseat of his car.
For a moment, I wonder if I’m still dreaming.
“Zayne…?”
“Oh, you’re awake,” he mutters in a calm tone, looking me over.
“You wouldn’t wake up, so I carried you. You’re in the backseat of my car right now.”
I briefly look around, confirming what he says is the truth. Processing his words slowly, my face heats at the thought of him carrying me all the way over to his car. Before I can properly react, Zayne leans in even closer. His fingers brush against my neck, as they press against my pulse point.
“Your heart rate is elevated and your face is flushed. Are you feeling unwell?”
His touch briefly lingers, making me even more aware of the narrow space between us.
“That’s just because... you are so close to me,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. A small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.
“I figured, but it’s important to test hypotheses in patient care,” he muses, his voice rich with amusement. “Also, I wanted to see if you’d actually say it.”
I gape at him, realizing I fell for his trap.
Zayne shifts back slightly, handing me a small bag before he heads towards the front of the car.
As he settles into the driver’s seat I take a peek inside to find some jogging pants and a loose-sitting sweater.
“What’s this?”
“A change of comfortable clothes in your size. I always keep some at the hospital just in case,” he explains simply, clicking his seatbelt in place.
I take the clothes out of the bag, looking them over. The fabric seems warm and soft.
"You thought of everything, huh?" I murmur, touched by his attentiveness.
"Naturally," he replies, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You should change before we head off. You’ll be more comfortable that way."
I hesitate, catching his gaze in the rearview mirror. He notices my wary look.
"I promise not to peek," he says dryly, turning the mirror away with a deliberate motion.
A soft smile appears on my face, touched by how considerate he is.
I quickly pull on the cozy joggers and sweater. It feels like shedding the weight of the day and it’s just what I needed.
"All done."
Zayne adjusts the mirror again and glances at me briefly before nodding. "Seatbelt."
I click the seatbelt into place and I settle into the seat. The familiar hum of the engine fills the quiet as the heart surgeon moves the car onto the road. I rest my head against the cool window, watching the city lights blur past. The gentle rhythm of the drive is almost hypnotic—until something catches my attention.
Street signs.
“Zayne? This isn’t the way to my place?”
“You are correct. We’re heading to my apartment,” he answers smoothly, hands steady on the wheel.
I blink. “Your place? Why?”
The doctor remains his focus on the road. “I have everything prepared already. And knowing you, you probably haven’t even stocked up on pads or tampons yet.”
I open my mouth to argue but stop before any sounds come out. He’s right. I shift in my seat, crossing my arms.
“Prepared how? You only found out about my period today.”
He sighs, as he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I always plan for it. Feminine hygiene products, heat pads, sweets. You need them, so I make sure they’re there. However, since you’re early, I didn’t have time to bring everything to your place. This is just easier.” His voice softens slightly. “I hope that’s alright.”
I stare at him, stunned. “You... always plan for my period?”
No wonder he always has exactly what I need, when I need it.
“Of course. I am your primary care physician, am I not?” He says it so simply, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
My chest tightens, warmth spreading through me.
“So, you are okay coming to my home to rest?” He asks again, he asks again, his hazel-green eyes meeting mine in the rearview mirror, seeking my answer.
I nod. “Yeah. That’s… more than okay.”
He seems satisfied with my response and returns his focus to the road. I settle back against the seat, my heart pounding at his tender actions.
___________________________________
When we arrive at his apartment, Zayne doesn’t waste any time. He ushers me inside, flicking on the lights before guiding me straight to the couch.
“Lie down,” he instructs, already grabbing a fluffy blanket draped over the armrest.
Doing as he says, I sink into the soft cushions, while being tucked in.
“How’s your pain? On a scale from one to ten?”
“It’s okay now. The painkillers worked wonders.”
“Good. I’ll heat the pad in case you need it later.”
Before I can respond, he disappears into the kitchen. The faint clink of a kettle echoes through the pace. And moments later, the aroma of red date tea drifts through the air.
Zayne returns, crouching beside the couch as he holds out a steaming cup. “Drink this. It will help with your symptoms.”
I take it, my fingers brushing against his for the briefest moment. He doesn’t move away.
“You’re really going all out with the doctor thing,” I mumble under my breath, peering at him over the rim of my cup.
He watches me closely as I sip my tea, his analytical gaze as sharp as ever. Then, as expected, he breaks the silence with another question.
“How’s your blood loss?”
I nearly choke on my drink. “Excuse me?”
“Is it more than usual?” he asks, completely unfazed. “If so, I have vitamin pills with extra iron that can help.”
I let out a small groan, setting my cup down. “Zayne, can we talk about something other than my blood flow right now?”
“Sure.”
But then—of course—he doesn’t take the hint.
“Pads or tampons? If you’re using tampons, I will need to set an alarm to make sure you change it in time.”
I press my fingers to my temples. “Zayne...”
“It’s important,” he insists.
I exhale slowly, resisting the urge to argue. He’s doing this because he cares, I remind myself. Because he’s Zayne.
I decide to shift tactics. “I’ll think about it. For now, how about a massage?”
His expression softens slightly as he moves closer to me, placing his hand on my stomach. “It will definitely alleviate you of some discomfort, if I focus on warming the abdominal area,” he agrees. Before I can start to relax, Zayne launches into a clinical explanation. “You have to be careful with the amount pressure you apply. Too much could cause internal organ damage—”
I reach out and grab his wrist, stopping him mid-sentence.
“I don’t need Dr. Zayne right now,” I say gently. “I just need my Zayne.”
His lips part slightly, as if my words catch him off guard. He doesn’t speak right away, and I can practically see the wheels turning in his mind as he processes.
Finally, he shows me a reassuring smile. “I see.” His voice is quieter now, more thoughtful. “What do you need from your Zayne?”
I grin back at him, squeezing his hand. “Be with me. Maybe eat some sweets with me?”
He doesn’t have to be told twice. He stands up to retrieve a small box of chocolates from the kitchen. When he returns, he doesn’t just hand them to me—he lifts me effortlessly, settling me onto his lap.
I let out a small sound of surprise, but he simply tucks me closer. Then, he begins braiding my hair. His fingers move with calm precision, soothing my body and soul.
I frown slightly, feeling something unfamiliar slide between the strands of hair. “What’s that?”
He holds up a blue ribbon, threading it carefully into place. “The children from the paediatric ward gave this to me,” he explains. “I told them you weren’t feeling well, and they wanted me to give you something to cheer you up.”
My breath catches.
The kids… those sick, fragile children … and they still thought of me?
My vision blurs, tears welling up faster than I can stop them. Before I can wipe them away, Zayne beats me to it. His fingers brush gently beneath my eyes.
He doesn’t say anything, and he doesn’t need to. His touch and presence is enough.
A piece of chocolate touches my lips. “Eat,” he murmurs. “I know chocolate makes you feel better.”
I let out a watery laugh but I take it anyway.
As I chew, he gestures toward the TV. “Shall we watch a movie? I still have some time before I need to head back to the hospital.”
I nod, curling against him. “You are good at this.”
His hazel-green eyes gleam as he presses a kiss to the top of my head. “I know.”
And with that, he grabs the remote and starts a random romantic movie, his arms still wrapped securely around me.
As the opening credits roll, I notice Zayne’s breath growing slower and deeper. I glance up carefully. He’s already asleep.
Looks like I wasn’t the only one overworking myself.
He’d been pushing himself so hard, yet he is still here for me, making sure I have everything I need.
“I hope you know that the only thing that I really need... is my Zayne,” I whisper softly.
The soundtrack of the movie plays in the background as I shift slightly, sinking into his broad physique, trying not to disturb him. And then finally, I close my eyelids for the last time that evening.