JAY JAY POV
The sliding glass doors hissed shut behind the Fernandez brothers, but the air they left behind felt... different. Heavier.
I stood there for a long moment, staring at the empty doorway like a total idiot. My hand was still hovering in the air, midway through a wave I hadn't finished. Usually, once a patient leaves, I'm already onto the next chart, thinking about my next caffeine fix or wondering if the cafeteria has any decent snacks left.
But right now? My chest felt like someone had reached inside and scooped out a massive chunk of my soul.
It was that hollow, nagging ache you get when you leave the house and realize you've forgotten something incredibly important—like your phone, your keys, or your will to live—but no matter how hard you think, you can't remember what it is.
Tss. Get it together, Luna.
I looked down at my hands. They were trembling. Just a tiny bit, but enough to make me feel like a glitching computer.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" I whispered to myself, leaning my forehead against the cool, sterile glass of the nurse's station.
That name. Fernandez.
When I saw it on the file, it was like a lightning bolt had struck the center of my brain. And that little boy, Angel... the way he smiled at me, the way he looked like a miniature version of someone I'd seen in a dream I can't quite recall.
It felt like my body was screaming at me to run after them, to grab that Horoscope Aries by the arm and demand to know why my heart was acting like it wanted to beat right out of my ribs.
But I didn't move. I couldn't.
Tss. Focus, Luna. People are literally paying you to not be a sentimental mess.
I took a deep breath, pinned my professional mask back on, and looked at my next chart.
MARK KEIFER WATSON.
I blinked. What the hell?
I swore to God I saw this guy yesterday in Mia's office, and he looked perfectly fine to me aside from the brooding, I-own-the-world aura and the way he stared at me like I was a long-lost treasure.
If he was sick, then I'm a vegan.
I headed to my office, half-expecting him to be looming there like a dark cloud, and I was right. He was sitting in the guest chair, looking entirely too comfortable and way too handsome for a hospital setting.
I stepped inside and adjusted my mask
. "Mr. Watson, what brings you here?" I asked, my voice muffled but polite.
"Skip the formality, please. Just Keifer," he said, his voice dropping into that low, raspy vibrato that made my skin tingle. He didn't even look at the medical equipment; he just looked at me. "And I want to talk about Keigan."
I let out a small sigh and took my seat behind the mahogany desk. "Like I said before, Keifer... please talk to Mia. She's his psychiatrist. I'm a surgeon; I deal with blood and bone, not the wires in someone's head. If that's the only reason you're here, then please leave. I have actual patients to see."
I kept my tone gentle, but firm. I wasn't going to let him turn my office into a negotiation room for his brother's therapy.
Then, I reached up and unhooked the loops of my mask, letting it drop to the desk. I needed to see him clearly, and honestly, the mask was starting to feel like a muzzle.
"What else can I help you with?" I asked, intertwining my fingers on the desk and leaning forward.
I caught him staring at my face again. That same, intense, soul-searching gaze. It was so heavy I could almost feel it on my skin.
"I'm here for a regular check-up," Keifer said, his eyes finally shifting to my hands. "And to see if I have any... you know, disease."
Disease?
I looked him up and down. He looked like the picture of health. If anything, he looked like he was built out of granite and expensive cologne.
"A check-up, huh?" I grabbed my pen and a fresh intake form, trying to ignore the way my heart was doing a little hop-skip-jump in my chest. "Fine. Let's get the basics down."
I looked at the paper, my pen poised. "Full name? Mark Keifer Watson, right. How old are you again?"
"Twenty-five," he said. He paused, his gaze intensifying as a ghost of a smirk played on his lips. "And single."
I froze for a second, my pen hovering over the Age box. I looked up at him
"Thanks for the extra info," I said, my voice dry. I scribbled 25 and then, just to be petty, I wrote VERY SINGLE in the margin. "I'll make sure to put that in the Patient Concerns section. Is being single a symptom of your disease, Mr. Watson?"
He actually smiled then. It was something deeper—something that reached his eyes and made them glitter with a possessive, dangerous light.
"Maybe," he murmured. "It's a very long-term condition. Seven years, to be exact."
I felt a shiver run down my spine. Seven years. Why did everyone keep mentioning that number?
"Well, let's see if we can find a cure," I joked, standing up and grabbing my stethoscope. "Come over here, Keifer. Let's see if that heart of yours is still beating"
He didn't hesitate. He stood up and started walking toward me.
Holy moly.
I froze. My neck actually cracked from how far I had to tilt my head back just to look him in the eye. Yesterday, I thought he was just tall.
Today? Today he felt like a literal architectural landmark.
Eiffel Tower. No, wait—higher. Mount Everest in a three-piece suit.
He moved into my personal space, his shadow completely swallowing me. I felt like a dwarf standing next to a titan.
Why the hell is he so big? Was he fed growth hormones as a kid while I was stuck eating street food?
"On second thought... please sit down," I blurted out, taking a panicked step back.
I couldn't do it. I couldn't listen to his heart while standing up. I'd have to stand on a damn stool or use a ladder just to reach his chest, and my professional dignity was already hanging by a thread.
Keifer paused, a low chuckle vibrating in his chest. It was a dark, amused sound that made my ears turn red.
He sat back down on the examination table, but even sitting, he was still looking down at me with that smug, I-know-exactly-what-you're-thinking grin.
Asshole.
It's not my fault he's built like a skyscraper! It's not my fault the rest of humanity decided to be giants while I stayed perfectly compact and aerodynamic!
Why is everyone in this country so tall? Is it a requirement to enter the Philippines now? Did I miss the height-check at the airport?
"Something wrong, Doctor?" Keifer asked, tilting his head. He looked entirely too satisfied with my internal struggle.
"Nothing. Just checking the... air quality up there," I huffed, stepping closer now that he was at a manageable height. "Now stay still. And stop breathing so loudly; you're distracting the equipment."
"The equipment, or you?" he whispered.
I glared at him, but my hand was shaking as I reached for his lapel. "Shut up, Watson. Or the next thing I'll be checking is how well you handle a sedative through a very large needle."
I pressed the cold metal of the stethoscope against his chest, and for a second, I thought the machine was broken.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
My eyebrows shot up so fast they practically disappeared into my hairline. His heart wasn't just beating; it was having a full-blown rave. It was racing like he'd just run a marathon or like he was about to jump out of a plane without a parachute.
"Whoa, easy there, skyscraper," I muttered, moving the stethoscope slightly. I looked at him, trying to see if he was having a heart attack right here on my examination table. "Your heart is going crazy. Are you feeling dizzy? Short of breath? Or did you just drink ten espressos before walking in here?"
Keifer didn't look pained at all. In fact, he looked... delighted. There was that spark in his eyes again—that intense, dark light that made me feel like I was the only person in the world.
"What happened? Am I sick?" Keifer asked, his voice low and vibrating with a strange, hopeful excitement. "Do I have to stay here for the rest of my life with you?"
I froze. I stared at him for a beat, wondering if I should call Mia back in here to check the wires in his head after all. He was looking at me like I'd just told him he won a permanent vacation to my favorite Samgyup place.
Is he crazy? Who gets excited about being sick?
"No," I said flatly, pulling the stethoscope away and stepping back out of his shadow.
I walked over to my desk and scribbled something on his chart—mostly just the word HYPER in big, bold letters. "You're not staying here, Watson. And you're definitely not sick. Your heart is just... overactive. Probably just stress, or maybe you're just naturally this high-strung."
I looked back at him, seeing the way he watched me—like he was waiting for me to say something else, to remember a script that I didn't have.
Just then, the door swung open and Ci-N marched in, looking entirely too proud of himself.
"Jay! I completed the list!" He announced, waving the clipboard like a trophy. Then he stopped, his eyes landing on the giant sitting on my examination table. "Hey, Keifer!"
Ci-N gave a casual wave, his face lighting up with recognition.
I looked at Keifer, and for a split second, I caught him making a sharp, frantic motion with his hand a shut up sign so obvious a blind person could see it. He stopped it immediately the moment he realized I was watching, smoothing his expression back into that cold, billionaire mask.
I narrowed my eyes, looking between the pilot-intern and the skyscraper-CEO.
"Do you two know each other?" I asked, my voice laced with a growing suspicion.
"Yes," Ci-N said cheerfully.
"No," Keifer said at the exact same time, his voice like a slab of granite.
I crossed my arms over my lab coat, tapping my foot against the linoleum. "Yes or no? Pick a struggle, gentlemen."
"Obviously yes," Ci-N laughed, completely oblivious to the death-glare Keifer was shooting at him. "We went to high school together! We were in HVIS, Section E."
HVIS. Section E.
The words hit my brain like a physical blow. Suddenly, the sterile white walls of my office started to spin. The air felt too thin, and the high-pitched ringing returned, louder than ever.
"Give us food, Jay!"
"Jay, he's being mean to me!"
"Mutya, help!"
A swarm of voices—sixteen distinct, rowdy, chaotic voices—erupted inside my head. It was a cacophony of laughter, shouting, and the smell of cheap street food and floor wax.
"AHHH!" I yelled, clutching my head as a sharp, white-hot pain blossomed behind my eyes. It felt like my skull was being split open by memories that didn't belong to me.
"What happened?!" Keifer's voice roared.
Before I could even process the movement, he was off the table and in front of me, his hands reaching out to steady me. His touch was electric, burning through the sleeves of my lab coat, but his face was a blur of sheer, unadulterated panic.
Why does his voice sound so familiar when he's worried?
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to drown out the shouting in my head.
"Jay-jay! Look at me! Breathe!" Keifer barked, his voice raw with a desperation that made my heart ache.
I tried to push him away, but my legs felt like jelly. Everything was going dark around the edges.
"Stop... calling me that," I managed to gasp out before the shadows finally swallowed the room.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
KEIFER POV
The world stopped. One second she was yelling, clutching her head, and the next her eyes rolled back. My heart nearly leaped out of my chest as I lunged forward, catching her before she could even hit the cold linoleum floor.
"Jay-jay!" I roared, my voice raw with the kind of terror I haven't felt in seven years.
I sat on the floor, cradling her against my chest. She was so small, so pale—exactly like that day on the asphalt. I started tapping her cheeks, my hands shaking. "Jay-jay! Wake up! Don't do this to me again, Jay! Speak to me!"
"What happened to her?!"
I snapped my head up to see a guy sprinting into the room. He was wearing a lab coat, his face a mess of panic. This must be the one from the hallway—Zade.
"Who the hell are you?" I growled, my grip on Jay-jay tightening. The possessive beast inside me was clawing at my throat. I didn't want anyone touching her, especially not another man who looked like he'd spent the last seven years by her side.
"Zade. I'm her doctor and her friend," he said, breathing hard. He reached down, his hands moving as if to take her from my arms.
Tss. Like hell I'm letting go.
I glared at him, a low, dangerous warning vibrating in my chest. I didn't care if he was a doctor. To me, he was just another barrier between me and my girl. My arms locked around her, silent and unyielding.
Zade let out a frustrated sigh, realizing I wasn't going to budge through sheer intimidation. He pointed toward the examination table I'd just been sitting on.
"Look, if you want her to get better, you need to move," he snapped, though his eyes were full of worry for Jay. "Lay her on the bed over there. Now!"
I hesitated for a heartbeat, looking down at her peaceful, unconscious face.
I laid her on the bed, but I didn't move away. I stayed right there, looming over her, watching every shallow breath she took.
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THANK YOU GUYSSS SO MUCH 😭🔥 You completed the target so fast and I'm actually shocked in the best way possible 😭💗 You guys always show up and it means a lot.
I was also thinking about writing a new book, so any suggestions would really help me ✨📚 Drop ideas, tropes, vibes — literally anything you want to see.