Adrian Blake woke to the sterile hum of the hospital room, his wrist encased in a stiff cast. The early morning sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting faint patterns on the walls. He stretched gingerly, wincing as the movement sent a sharp reminder of his injury shooting through his arm.
He sighed, reaching for his phone on the bedside table. As much as he hated hospitals, he had to admit there was something intriguing about the one he was in—more specifically, the doctor who had stormed in last night like a force of nature. Dr. Evelyn Hart. She had been all business, no nonsense, and absolutely immune to his usual charm.
But beneath her icy demeanor, Adrian had sensed something else—a flicker of vulnerability. And, despite himself, he wanted to see it again.
In her office, Evelyn Hart was already deep into her morning routine. A coffee mug sat untouched beside her as she scrolled through her tablet, reviewing the latest test results. She prided herself on efficiency, always staying two steps ahead of her workload. Yet, as her assistant handed her the day's schedule, Evelyn felt her stomach tighten slightly at the sight of his name.
Blake, Adrian – Follow-up, 9:30 AM.
She frowned. It wasn't like her to be distracted, least of all by a patient. Still, there was something about him—his casual arrogance, his penetrating gaze—that unsettled her.
Evelyn shook her head. He was just another case, she told herself. A fractured wrist, nothing complicated.
By the time she arrived at Room 503, Adrian was already sitting up, flipping through a script with his uninjured hand. He looked up as she entered, a lopsided grin spreading across his face.
"Dr. Hart. Back so soon? I didn't think you'd miss me."
She ignored the comment, moving to check his vitals. "How's the pain?"
"Tolerable," he replied. Then, after a beat, "Thanks to the excellent care, of course."
Evelyn barely acknowledged his words, her focus on his wrist. "Your X-rays confirmed a clean break. The cast will stay on for six weeks. You'll need physical therapy after that to regain full mobility."
"Six weeks," Adrian mused. "Guess that means no action scenes for a while."
"Or anything else that risks further injury," she added pointedly.
Adrian studied her as she spoke, his hazel eyes narrowing slightly. "You always this serious? Or is it just me?"
Evelyn straightened, meeting his gaze head-on. "I take my job seriously. If that bothers you, Mr. Blake, you're free to seek another doctor."
His grin didn't waver. "Not at all. I just think it must get exhausting—carrying that much responsibility all the time."
Her jaw tightened. "I manage just fine."
He leaned back, his expression softening. "I bet you do. But even superheroes need a break now and then."
Evelyn blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected sincerity in his tone. She opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by a knock at the door. A nurse entered, handing Evelyn a clipboard.
"Dr. Hart, the patient in Room 607 is requesting a consult."
Evelyn nodded, grateful for the excuse to leave. She turned back to Adrian, her professional mask firmly in place. "We'll check the cast again in two weeks. If you need anything, inform the nurses."
And with that, she was gone, leaving Adrian to stare after her, a faint smile playing on his lips.
Over the next few days, their paths crossed more than Evelyn would have liked. Adrian seemed to have a knack for appearing when she least expected it—cracking jokes with the nurses, offering unsolicited movie recommendations, and, occasionally, trying to engage her in conversation.
At first, she dismissed it as boredom on his part. But as time went on, she began to suspect there was more to it. Despite his easygoing facade, Adrian's moments of silence spoke volumes. She noticed the way his smile faltered when he thought no one was looking, the fatigue that lingered in his eyes.
It wasn't until she overheard a conversation between him and a nurse that she began to understand.
"I heard your latest movie a hit," the nurse said cheerfully. "Must be exciting!"
Adrian's smile was polite but distant. "Yeah, it's great," he said, his voice tinged with something Evelyn couldn't quite place.
That night, as she reviewed his file, she found herself staring at his name for longer than she intended. There was something about him—something fractured, something unresolved.
And, against her better judgment, she felt drawn to it.
Evelyn was making her rounds the next day when she found herself standing outside his room. She hesitated before knocking lightly on the door. Adrian looked up, surprised but pleased.
"Dr. Hart," he said. "To what do I owe the honor?"
She stepped inside, her expression neutral. "I wanted to check on your progress."
"Really?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Or did you just miss me?"
Her lips twitched, almost imperceptibly. "Don't push your luck, Mr. Blake."
He laughed, the sound warm and genuine. "Noted."
For a moment, silence stretched between them. Then, almost reluctantly, Evelyn spoke. "You've been through a lot. More than you let on."
Adrian's smile faded, replaced by a guarded look. "What makes you say that?"
"I've seen it before," she said simply. "You're not as good at hiding it as you think."
He leaned back, studying her. "And what about you, Doc? What are you hiding?"
The question hung in the air, heavier than either of them expected. Evelyn's chest tightened, but she forced herself to meet his gaze.
"That's not relevant," she said finally, her voice steady but soft.
"Maybe not," Adrian replied. "But it doesn't mean I'm not curious."
For the first time in years, Evelyn felt the cracks in her armor widening. And she wasn't sure she wanted to stop it.