He was just someone I would be working with, I told myself. Nothing else.

Sure, every now and then my eyes would drift to him but that was only because his friends were friends with my friends. Nothing more. It definitely wasn't about the way his height towered over me, or how his voice sent a chill down my spine. It wasn't about the way he always looked distracted in class yet still managed to answer every question with ease.

He was quiet most of the time, except when his friends urged him to talk. And when he did, that easy confidence in his voice or maybe it was the way he walked, with that casual sway of his shoulders, that somehow stuck with me.

Yeah. There was nothing there for me.

His friends, though, they were cool. I was honestly glad when my friend pulled me into their shared interests. It made things easier, helped build that "class relationship," and gave me someone to rant with about fictional characters.

But the more time I spent around his friends, the more I found myself drawn to him. He never said much when we went on and on about our favorite shows, but that just made me curious. Was he shy? Or just not interested? What was he interested in?

And just like that, my curiosity started to grow.

One afternoon, while waiting for a cab, I tried to bring him into the conversation. Maybe, just maybe, he had the tiniest bit of interested in what we were talking about. His friends answered for him before he could. There went my chance to hear his voice. But then, finally, he spoke: "It's not really my things."

Of course it wasn't.

"So, what is your thing?" I asked.

"I'm more interested in gym workout and music," he said.

Oh. So typical guys stuff. I had no idea how else to approach him. No common interests, and he didn't leave much room for conversation either.

So yeah, he was just someone that I would be working.

Still, I wasn't exactly thrilled when I saw the final list for clinicals. I'd be paired with the only two guys in my class and an older lady. Perks of college, I guess. All my friends got sent to other wards while I was stuck with people I'd barely talked to.

I even went to the teacher in secret to ask if there was any way to change the group, but of course, it was 'impossible'.

So yes, I was stuck with him.

I meant them. Yes them.

This wasn't about him.

...

It was finally the day of clinicals. Thankfully I wouldn't see him for the first week. Not that I wanted to see him. Not that I was even thinking that I wanted to see him.

But then I got an email.

Apparently, I had to collect my hat from him. Which meant I would have to seek him out.

Perfect. Total sarcasm.

I reached the hospital and there he was in all his striking glory, surrounded by his friend. Of course. I approached, rested my bag nearby and just kind of... hovered. Not saying anything.

Then he called my name. "Were you supposed to get a hat?"

I replied with a quick "yeah," and he handed it to me.

And that was that. End of interaction. No more contact, at least for now. I turned and walked into the hospital, though I was somehow more confused than before.

A few moments later, they followed me inside.

"Do you know where to go?" he asked.

I turned around. "Not for myself. But where are you going?"

I ended up leading him and the rest of my classmates down the hallway before splitting off to find my assigned area.

I stood there waiting, confused and a little lost, hoping a preceptor would appear soon. Then I heard his voice again.

I turned around and there he is, chilling and talking with others.

I looked away immediately. I couldn't make it seem obvious that I was starting. Not like I was staring. I just... didn't want him thinking I was. That sounded a lot better.

And just like that, the rest of the week passed with zero interaction between us. Out of mind out of sight they say. Or is it the other way around? I don't remember.

Anyways point is, he was gone.

The week went by faster than I expected. No awkward glances. No reason to overthink anything. I was free. Or so I thought.

Then came week two.

I checked the schedule. Then double checked. Triple checked. His name, right name under the same ward as mine.

That morning, I told myself not to think about it. Just another day. Another shift. Keep it professional, polite, detached. It was clinicals, not a social event. This would be easy.

Until I walked into the ward the same time as him.

We greeted each other quickly before heading to the nurse's station. She told us where to leave our stuff, so we settled in the passageway, waiting for the shift officially start.

That's when I really looked at him.

His shirt fit perfectly, neat and simple, but somehow... flattering. The low-cut hair, the clean goatee, it all suited him a little too well.

I quickly looked away, pretending to scroll through my phone.

"Are you ready to start the day?" he asked suddenly.

I shrugged lightly. "I'm here to do what I can. Hopefully everything goes well."

He nodded, and before I could overthink the interaction, the other male and the last female student joined us.

The nurse gathered us and said we'd be working in pairs. One male and one female for each cubicle. I looked around and before anyone could say anything, said it didn't really matter who I got paired with.

I ended up with the other male student. He got paired with the female. Two cubicles. Two separate worlds.

The morning went smoothly. My male classmate and I worked well together, finishing tasks quickly and even earning a small nod of approval from the nurse. Everything was calm and chill until it was time to choose lunch breaks.

The nurse made it pretty clear that two persons in the same cubicle could not leave for lunch at the same time. Which meant the ones in different cubicles had to pair up for lunch.

Oh no.

I looked at him. We were to be together. For lunch I meant.

My classmates picked the later lunch slot which meant we would be going for lunch first. Great. Just great.

I went back to work, pretending to focus, but my eyes kept darting to my watch. Every minute dragged. My heart picked up speed for absolutely no reason.

When lunchtime finally came, I went straight to the nurse, told her I was heading out, and slipped away before he could even notice.

He probably had plans to eat with his friends anyway. And since none of mine were around, it would've felt awkward. Not awkward awkward, just... like I'd be intruding.

Besides, it's not like he'd even notice I was gone. Right?

When I got back from lunch, he was there. Granted, I had taken two hours of lunch instead of one.

He looked up as I walked in, his gaze following me for a moment. "Where did you go for lunch?" He asked.

"Out," I replied simply.

And that was that.

We grabbed our lab coats and made our way back onto the ward. For a while, we lingered near the nurses' station as the visiting families began to leave. The silence between us wasn't awkward. It was... bearable and kind of comforting.

Then the others joined, and conversation started to flow easily around us. I was surprised by how relaxed it felt. Laughing, chatting, sharing random bits about the shift and how we were starting like it. I was starting to like this. The rhythm of it. The ease.

The next day followed the same pattern. Different cubicles meant the same lunch time and that meant I could quietly slip away again when the chance came.

But that day, just as I was about to step out the door, I heard his voice. "Want to go for lunch together?"

I froze for a second, caught off guard. What sense would that make? Wouldn't he wait for his friends? I realized I had been standing there overthinking, without giving an answer. So I nodded.

"Sure."

We left together.

As we exited the ward, curiosity got the better of me. "What about your friends?" I asked.

He shrugged it off. "I'm not sure what time they got for lunch. So for now it's you and me."

I tried my hardest not to smile too obviously, but I could feel it tugging at the corners of my mouth.

"I'm going up in the town for lunch. Is that okay?" I asked.

He paused for a moment then looked down at me with the calm serious and unreadable expression of his. "Of course." He said. "I'm sure I'll enjoy the walk there with you."

And with that, we left.

So... was he still just someone I had to work with? No. anymore. He was starting to feel like something more.

And maybe, just maybe, he was thinking the same about me.