Her Anchor : The Caffeine Connection

His Voice

She entered the doctor's room to keep her bag and report to her allotted bed.

It was 8:30 AM. As usual, she was the first one to come there.

Until she saw him in the room, already there before her. He was keeping his bag over the bed where everyone else keeps theirs, and without wasting a single second, dashed out of the room to the hallway outside.

He didn't own a regular backpack but one of those sling side bags. Quite cool and different.

This time, he was in scrubs and a red Littmann stethoscope hung around his neck.

Damn. Lucky stethoscope hangs around his neck. How would my arms feel around his neck instead?

She didn't recognise him for a second, because of the dark navy blue scrubs and also because she wasn't wearing her glasses. But of course she couldn't mistake that tall figurine and her natural instinct which was making her nervous and blushing.

How can someone look so hot in scrubs? And who the heck wears scrubs in this Medicine Department? Is he from any Surgery Ward and came here for a quick look up round?

Her heart sank thinking about the possibility of him belonging to another department. It would mean that she won't get to see him everyday. And the fact that she saw him for two consecutive days meant only sheer luck.

She had never seen anyone roaming around in scrubs in the Medicine Ward.

Maybe he is a neat and cleanliness freak like me. Probably we have way more in common than I know right now. Let's think optimistically. He must be working here else he won't be collecting samples.

Sometimes overthinking got to the best of her thinking abilities and common sense.

Probably. Just probably. We will talk someday.

The butterflies inside were growing wilder every minute. She looked on to see where he went, and her keen eyes followed him along. He went to the sample collecting counter.

She went inside and kept her bag on the shelf, taking extra care to not make her obsession and need to be close obvious to him.

He was definitely a newbie here. He stood out from the rest of the doctors in the ward. Be it his looks, his aura, his clothing and just totally him in his complete existence. He had a different way of doing normal things. Even the way he carried himself stood out from the rest.

She made her way to Bed Number 8, and began to take the history of the young girl who was admitted. She lifted her head up when she felt someone standing nearby.

It was him. “Who is the patient on this bed? Have you given your blood samples?”

He spoke something similar to this but all she heard was soft, smooth musical melodies in her ears. She didn't pay attention to his words as she was too engrossed in just staring at him.

He was in too close proximity with her, just standing next to her. She took a step back.

Her hands began to sweat. And her forehead had small beads of perspiration. She turned to the side and took out her handkerchief to wipe off her sweat.

But the more she wiped it, the more she sweated. Why did her body react this way to him?

She thought she had got rid of hyperhidrosis, except in tense situations. But here he was, proving all her theories wrong.

And it was not stressful tension that she felt with him.

Sexual tension, maybe.

He went away after a while and she went to the other side of the bed, so that she could look at him working on the counter without making it obvious that she was staring.