Dodging the question as fast as I could, I run out of the room, leaving behind a baffled Brandon and a furious Savi. I couldn't answer the nurse's question even if I wanted to, let alone explain to her the kind of situation she found me in with my patient.

I was lucky enough to be off the clock by then and return home without her questioning my professionalism. Only problem was, today was a new day, and I couldn't avoid my patient, let alone escape the nurse I dreaded to see the most.

After rounds, I spotted Linn behind her desk, sorting through bandages and pain meds. I never interfered with anyone's job, but the frown on her face bothered me.

"Hey, is everything all right?" I asked her, walking inside the nurse's office. White florescent light lit the room, the smell of iodine and alcohol stronger in here that the rest of the hospital.

"Yeah, I'm just trying to understand these scribbles in this patient's file. I need to give him his meds, but the letters look like caricatures."

"Hmmm..." I chuckled, trying to figure out the prescription. "Give me a sec," I said moving to the computer. Logging in to the software, I found the patient's name before printing their prescription. I handed it to her, and she turned to me with wide eyes and a warm smile.

"Thank you so much. I don't know why I haven't thought of that in the first place," she sighed, blushing a bit. "I need caffeine. And sleep. And probably not in that order."

Light rain patted on the window, dark clouds hiding the summer sun behind them as they moved, before the sun's rays illuminated the room again. It was sometimes overwhelming, alternating through shifts, which was way the hospital's personnel were sometimes burned out. In these moments, only coffee and chocolate could really help, if sleep wasn't available.

After sorting through my own paperwork, it was about time I checked on a certain someone. After our last encounter, I left pretty quickly, trying to avoid Savi's searching eyes. "I'll see you tomorrow, Dr. Ricci..." were his last words, making the butterflies in my stomach flutter with excitement.

I didn't have a chance to talk to him this morning. He looked frustrated under the glaring looks of all interns during rounds, but that was common in most teaching hospitals; a bunch of nerds glaring and writing down information to the T. Some younger medical students also joined today's rounds and wanted to practice the same medical examination I did yesterday. He sent them a glare that pinned their feet on the ground, instead of moving closer to him. It was amusing to see how they were afraid of him. To me, his glaring eyes created shivers to run down my spine, and unlike the students, I wanted to move closer instead; as close as possible.

Biting my lip to urge the thought to dissipate, I knocked on his door. No one answered, so I pushed inside to find his room empty.

Where the hell was he now?

Anxiety flew through me when I saw the IV bag still in the room; he detached the line off his wrist. This man had no sense of pain or responsibility. It was unnerving how he didn't care about himself. Gritting my teeth in anger, I shrugged all thoughts away, exiting his room. If he didn't care about himself, there was nothing more I could do.

Trying to silence my minds overthinking, I walked up the stairs to the 9th floor where the locker rooms were. Although the main surgical ward was on the 5th floor, it was good to exercise once in a while; the dreadful stairs always eased my mind, since I alternated between overthinking and feeling my lungs with oxygen.

I was halfway there, when I felt an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. Almost as if I were being watch. I slowed down, turning around slowly to find no one. Still, the shivers running down my spine troubled me.

Exhaling the breath I didn't know I was holding, I resumed my movements, climbing up the staircase. All anxious thoughts were cleared out of my brain the minute I found who I was looking for in the first place.

He was on the staircase of the 7th floor, wearing dark sweatpants and a hoodie; there was no way around it, he just hated that hospital gown. I watched his back as he stared through the open window. Rain was pattering gently on the windowsill, as he exhaled grey smoke from his lungs, creating the illusion of fog in summer. Repeating his actions, he brought the cigarette to his lips, taking another long drag, as I couldn't help but stare at him.

As a medical professional, I hated that thing; I hated everything that brought harm to my patients. But couldn't deny the simultaneous feeling of warmth it created inside of me. I couldn't deny how devilishly handsome he looked doing it right now. I would never admit to this, of my contradicting feelings that were building up inside.

"I see you were in need of fresh air," I teased him, as I walked up the last couple of steps that separated us.

He chuckled turning towards me, his back muscles rippling under the action, as he breathed out his smoke. He took one last drag of poison, before he turned to me; his sinful eyes pinning me in place.

"You have no idea," he said, blowing the rest of the smoke out his mouth and nose and I watched the fog escaping him out the window with the light drift of summer air. "You look really beautiful today."

I felt my cheeks heating up, but my eyes didn't escape his heated gaze. I wanted to be stronger than the girl who shied away all the time. His eyes watched me intently, almost searching for something. All of this couldn't just be in my brain; I knew he felt the same frustration as I did in his presence.

"It's the scrubs," I said with a nonchalant smile. "They make everything seem better." I looked at my dark purple scrubs, before returning his gaze.

I caught him checking me out, his eyes making me feel hot in all the best places, before his eyes found mine. Not knowing how to explain the way he was looking at me, I tried to distract his searching eyes. "Are you a regular smoker?"

"Only when I'm stressed. And since you will open up my body tomorrow, I felt the need to relax a bit." He put out his cigarette, a soft smile on his face.

I rolled my eyes; he was using sarcasm, teasing me like a cry baby. A pretty hot baby, who was hiding something else entirely behind the cheery mask he was currently wearing.

"I promise to do a decent job. Besides, Dr. Marshall is one of the best in his field-"

"I'm not afraid of the operation. I'm more concerned with the drugs. The anesthesia." I was caught off guard since I wasn't expecting that.

"What do you have to worry about?"

He exhaled a deep breath, lost in his own thoughts, as he shook his head. Not understanding the situation, I tried to ease his mind. "I know I keep say this, but you have nothing to worry about-" The chuckle that left his lips halted my words, as he came closer to me. I tried to move backwards, until I hit the wall behind me. The mischievous glint in his eyes was making my heart rate five times faster and I bit my lower lip to ground my own thoughts.

"You don't get it, do you?" His voice was deeper. "It's like you-" He stopped himself from continuing, taking a deep breath in. I was frozen in place, unable to move under the intensity of his eyes.

I didn't want to move.

"It's like I what?" I wanted to know, but instead of sounding confident, my voice came out hoarse and doubtful.

I bit my lip, pink tinting my features. He swallowed once, his gaze on my lips' movements.

"You provoke me without doing anything. You provoke me just by standing near me, and then you go ahead and do something like that..." his thumb released my lip from in between my teeth, "thinking it will go unnoticed. God, Angel... Why? How?" His fingers traced my skin like feathers, before slightly pinching my chin to keep my eyes focused on him.

The questioning look I had on my face made him chuckle. He buried his face in the crook of my neck making me shudder. Pulling my body towards him, he held me in his arms, and I couldn't stop myself from moving closer to him, his hoodie in my fists.

"I'm a detached, mostly emotionless asshole... Fuck, this is confusing." He pulled away from me, running his hand through his messy hair in frustration, as he looked the other way.

The emotional turmoil inside me was driving me crazy. It had barely been twenty-four hours; not a long time at all. But how long was considered a long time? Who dictated emotions in terms of time?

Was it too soon to feel like this?

Moreover, how soon was now?

"If it's any consolation, I... I'm feeling confused as well."