Robin Scorpio stood outside the hospital, the moon casting shadows on her tear-streaked face. She'd been through hell—facing deadly diseases, uncovering secrets, and losing loved ones. But through it all, one constant remained: Patrick Drake.
Patrick, the brilliant neurosurgeon with a reckless streak. His eyes held a storm—passion, pain, and vulnerability all tangled together. They'd danced around each other for years, their bickering a thin veil for something deeper.
It was a quiet night shift, the hospital corridors hushed. Robin found Patrick in the break room, nursing a cup of coffee. His scrubs were rumpled, and his hair fell across his forehead. He looked exhausted, yet there was a fire in his eyes.
"Patrick," Robin said, her voice soft. "We need to talk."
He glanced up, surprise flickering across his features. "What's wrong?"
Robin took a deep breath. "Everything. Life, death, love."
He leaned back, studying her. "You're not one for small talk."
"No." Robin stepped closer. "I've watched you save lives, fight for patients, and challenge authority. But there's something you've never faced head-on."
Patrick raised an eyebrow. "And what's that?"
"Us." Robin's heart raced. "Patrick, I—"
He cut her off. "Robin, we've been through so much. I've seen you at your worst, and you've seen me stumble. But I've never stopped caring."
Robin's throat tightened. "Caring isn't enough."
Patrick stood, closing the distance between them. "No, it's not. Robin, I love you. I've loved you since that first argument in the ER."
Her breath caught. "But we're broken, Patrick. We're both scarred."
He cupped her face. "Maybe that's why we fit. We're like puzzle pieces—flawed, but meant to be together."
Robin's tears spilled over. "I'm scared. Scared of losing you."
Patrick kissed her, a desperate, hungry kiss that left no room for doubt. "We've cheated death, Robin. Let's not cheat love."
And so, in that dimly lit break room, they confessed their love—the whispered promises, the shared regrets, the hope for a future. The hospital walls absorbed their secrets, and the night shift nurses tiptoed past, pretending not to notice.
Robin clung to Patrick, her heart soaring. "I love you too, Patrick Drake."
He smiled, brushing her hair back. "Then let's fight for this. Together."
They left the break room, hand in hand, ready to face whatever came next. The hospital hummed around them—the beeping monitors, the distant footsteps. But in their hearts, there was only the echo of their love.
And as dawn approached, Robin knew that sometimes, healing came not from medicine, but from whispered confessions in the night.
