Zayne was still asleep—a rare occurrence for someone who usually woke at 5:30 AM sharp.
But he'd been up late, processing feelings, staring at the ceiling, thinking about "I love you" said casually in a parking lot.
Now, in the soft morning light, something warm cupped his face.
Small hands. Gentle. Soft.
*What—*
He stayed still, eyes closed, awareness slowly returning.
Nana.
She was awake. Watching him. Touching his face.
*Why is she—*
"So handsome," he heard her whisper, so quiet she probably thought he couldn't hear. "How did I get so lucky?"
Oh.
Her thumb traced his cheekbone gently. Then along his jaw. His nose. His lips.
*She's... mapping my face. Like memorizing. Why—*
"Mina said all the nurses talk about Dr. Li," Nana continued in that same whisper. "How he's so cold and handsome and untouchable. How he's like a Greek god who walks among mortals."
*Greek god. Again with the Greek references. Why is everyone comparing me to—*
"But he's not cold," Nana murmured. "Not with me. He smiles. And laughs. And makes sounds when we kiss. And he's mine. ALL mine."
*Possessive hamster. My wife is a possessive hamster.*
"Does he love me though?" Her voice turned uncertain. "He hasn't said it. I said it yesterday. But he just... froze. Maybe he doesn't—"
*I do. I love you. I love you so much it's medically concerning. I just don't know how to SAY it because I'm emotionally constipated and—*
She leaned closer.
Her lips pressed against his—soft, gentle, sweet.
A morning kiss. Tender. Like she was testing something. Hoping for something.
*She's kissing me awake. She's—*
Zayne's eyes opened.
Nana's face was inches from his, her eyes still closed, still kissing him gently.
*She looks beautiful. Morning light. Hair messy. Face soft. Beautiful.*
He smiled—couldn't help it—and cupped her face, kissing her back.
Her eyes flew open in surprise.
"Morning, hamster," he murmured against her lips.
"You're awake!" She squeaked, face turning red. "How long were you—did you hear—"
"Everything," he admitted, pulling her closer. "Every word."
"Oh no." She buried her face in his chest. "That's so embarrassing."
"It's adorable."
"You're just saying that."
"I'm a doctor. I only state facts." He tilted her chin up, making her look at him. "Fact: You're adorable. Fact: I'm yours. Fact: I—"
*Say it. Just say it. Three words. Simple.*
"—I'm glad you think I'm handsome."
*COWARD. YOU COWARD. THAT'S NOT WHAT YOU MEANT TO SAY.*
But Nana was already smiling, pressing another kiss to his lips.
"The handsomest," she declared. "Like a Greek statue that came to life."
*There it is. The Greek statue comparison. Inevitable.*
Zayne headed toward the bathroom for his morning routine.
He made it approximately three steps before realizing he had a shadow.
Nana was following him.
Very close.
Unusually close.
*Why is she—*
"Hamster, what are you doing?"
"Following you!" she announced cheerfully.
"I can see that. Why?"
"To make sure no one steals you!"
*What.*
He stopped, turned to face her. "Steals me?"
"YES!" She looked very serious about this. "Mina said hospital nurses are very aggressive! They might try to catch you! Like Pokemon! I need to guard you!"
*LIKE POKEMON.*
*SHE THINKS SOMEONE WILL CATCH ME LIKE A POKEMON.*
*MY WIFE THINKS I'M A CATCHABLE POKEMON.*
"Nana, that's not—people don't work like—" He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm not a Pokemon."
"But you're rare! And powerful! And everyone wants you! So I need to be vigilant!"
*This conversation is happening. This is real. This is my life.*
"I need to shower," he said slowly. "Alone. Can you—"
"I'll wait here!" She positioned herself directly outside the bathroom door. "Like a guard! A sentinel! No one will pass!"
*She's guarding the bathroom. From Pokemon thieves. At 7 AM.*
"There's no one here. We live alone."
"EXACTLY! That's what they WANT you to think! But I'm ready!" She crossed her arms, looking fierce.
*She looks like an angry hamster. Not intimidating. Adorable.*
"Fine," he sighed, entering the bathroom. "Guard duty it is."
"I WON'T LET YOU DOWN!" she shouted through the door.
*My wife is standing guard outside the bathroom. Like a tiny general. Protecting me from imaginary Pokemon thieves.*
*This is normal now. This is my normal.*
Zayne emerged from the bathroom, dressed in his work clothes but without his doctor's coat yet.
Nana was indeed still at her post, standing at attention like a soldier.
"Any threats?" he asked, unable to hide his amusement.
"None! The perimeter is secure!" She saluted him.
*She saluted. My wife saluted me. Like I'm a commanding officer.*
"At ease, soldier."
She relaxed, bouncing over to him. "Zayne! Can I come to the hospital today?"
"What?" He paused in putting on his watch. "Why would you—don't you have classes?"
"Not today! Thursday is my free day! And I want to see where you work! And make sure everyone knows you're taken! And—"
"You want to guard me at the hospital too."
"YES!" She beamed. "Like field work! Advanced guarding!"
*She wants to follow me to work. To guard me. From Pokemon thieves.*
*I should say no. This is inappropriate. Unprofessional. Chaotic.*
"Fine," he heard himself say.
*WHY DID I SAY THAT.*
"REALLY?!" Nana jumped excitedly. "I can come?!"
"On three conditions," he held up fingers. "One: No climbing trees in the hospital garden."
"Okay!"
"Two: No tackling people, even if they're your friends."
"Okay!"
"Three: No chaos of any kind. You stay with me, you're quiet, you—"
She saluted again. "I promise! No chaos! Very professional! Super quiet! Like a medical statue!"
*Medical statue. She means well.*
He put on his doctor's coat—the white one that marked him as chief cardiac surgeon.
And heard a sound.
A small, desperate sound.
He turned to find Nana staring at him with wide eyes, mouth slightly open.
*Why is she—*
"Hamster?"
"You look—" she breathed, "—you look SO HANDSOME in that coat. Like... like..."
*Please don't say Greek statue. Please don't—*
"Like a Greek god in medical form."
*Close enough.*
She walked toward him slowly, like approaching something sacred.
"Nana, we need to leave soon—"
"Kiss," she said, still staring. "I need a kiss. Your lips taste good. And your tongue. And I want to hear those sounds you make."
*WHAT.*
*THOSE SOUNDS.*
*SHE WANTS TO HEAR MY SOUNDS.*
"Nana—"
"Please?" She looked up at him with pleading eyes. "Just one? A good one? With the tongue? And the sounds?"
*I'm weak. So weak.*
"We don't have time—" he started, but she was already tugging his coat, pulling him down.
*The tugging. Always the tugging. I'm going to have permanent neck damage.*
"Please, husband?" She whispered. "Just a quick one?"
*Quick. She said quick. I can do quick. Brief. Professional. Just a—*
He kissed her.
Started controlled—lips only, gentle pressure, appropriate for a morning goodbye kiss before work.
But his hands—
His traitorous, medically trained, supposedly disciplined hands—
—moved.
One to her waist, pulling her closer. The other to her back, then sliding—
*Stop. Control. Professional. We have to leave. I have surgeries. I—*
She made a sound.
Not a whimper this time.
A moan.
Full, unrestrained, needy moan.
*Oh god.*
His control shattered.
His hand that had been on her back moved forward, sliding around to—
Her chest.
*NO. STOP. WHAT ARE YOU DOING. HANDS. STOP.*
But his hand cupped her breast through her shirt, thumb brushing over—
She moaned again, louder, arching into his touch.
ABORT. ABORT MISSION. RED ALERT.
Zayne pulled back so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash.
His hand dropped like it had been burned.
He blinked.
Several times.
*I just—*
*My hand just—*
*I touched—*
*AT 8 AM.*
*BEFORE WORK.*
*WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME.*
"Zayne?" Nana looked dazed, breathing hard. "Why did you stop?"
*Because I'm GROPING MY WIFE before WORK. Because we have to LEAVE. Because I have SURGERIES. Because—*
"Work," he managed, his voice rough. "I have to—work. Hospital. Patients. Surgery. Important."
*Eloquent. Very eloquent. Great communication skills, Dr. Li.*
"But—" She looked confused, "—that felt really good? Your hand was—"
"We need to leave," he interrupted, already backing toward the door. "Now. Immediately. Before I—before we—work. Hospital. Now."
"Okay..." She still looked confused, touching her chest where his hand had been. "But Zayne?"
*Please don't ask. Please don't—*
"Why were your hands on my chest?"
*THERE IT IS. THE QUESTION. THE INEVITABLE QUESTION.*
*How do I explain this. How do I clinically explain accidental groping. How do I—*
"I—" he started, brain completely blank. "It was—the hand just—involuntary reflex. Medical response. Muscle memory. From—from—"
FROM WHAT. WHAT MEDICAL PROCEDURE INVOLVES GROPING. NONE. THERE ARE NONE.
"From examining patients!" he finished desperately. "Chest examination! Respiratory assessment! Completely clinical! Professional! Medical!"
*LIAR. TERRIBLE LIAR. WORST LIE EVER.*
Nana tilted her head. "But you weren't examining me. You were kissing me. And then your hand just... went there. And it felt... nice?"
*Nice. She thought it was nice. That's good? Bad? Encouraging? Terrifying?*
"We're leaving," he announced, grabbing his briefcase. "Now. Immediately. No more questions."
"But—"
"CAR. NOW. MOVE."
She giggled—actually giggled—and followed him out.
*She's giggling. I'm having a crisis and she's GIGGLING.*
.
.
.
.
.
🌻🌻🌻
ZAYNE'S INTERNAL MONOLOGUE - 8:27 AM (IN THE CAR
Medical log - EMERGENCY ENTRY - Day Thirteen:
CODE RED. DEFCON 1. SITUATION CRITICAL.
TIMELINE OF DISASTER:
- *Woke to wife touching my face (sweet)
- *Wife wondering if I love her (I DO)
- *Wife kissing me awake (adorable)
- *Wife following me everywhere (concerning)
- *Wife guarding bathroom from Pokemon thieves (ridiculous)
- *Wife wanting to come to hospital (approved somehow)
- *Wife drooling over doctor coat (flattering)
- *Wife asking for kiss with "sounds" (devastating)
- *Me losing all control (catastrophic)
- *My hands wandering (VERY catastrophic)
- *My hand on her CHEST (CRITICAL ERROR)
- *Wife MOANING (system failure)
- *Me lying about clinical examination (worst lie ever)
Current status: Driving to work. Wife in passenger seat. Still can feel her breast in my hand. Professional composure: DECEASED.
What happened:
My hand. MY HAND. Just... moved. Without permission. Without thought. Just moved to her chest and—
She moaned.
Not whimpered. MOANED.
Full, loud, unrestrained MOAN.
And I—
I liked it.
A lot.
Too much.
She asked why my hand was there. ASKED. Innocently. Like she doesn't understand.
How do I explain:
- "I lost control"
- "I wanted to touch you"
- "Your sounds destroy my sanity"
- "I'm desperately in love with you"
I can't. So I lied. About clinical examination. She didn't believe me. Obviously didn't believe me. But accepted it anyway.
She said it felt "nice."
NICE.
My accidental groping was NICE.
That's... good? Encouraging? Means she's not upset?
But also means she might EXPECTit now. Might WANT it.
And I—
I want to do it again.
Properly. Intentionally. With both hands. And—
STOP. WORK THOUGHTS. SURGERY THOUGHTS. CARDIAC ANATOMY. MITRAL VALVE. ANYTHING.
She's coming to the hospital. To guard me. From Pokemon thieves.
This is going to be a disaster.
But also...
She said "those sounds you make."
She likes my sounds. Wants to hear them more.
That means—
That means she's as affected as I am.
That means this isn't one-sided.
That means maybe—maybe I should tell her.
Tell her I love her.
Today.
At the hospital.
Surrounded by colleagues.
While she's guarding me from imaginarythreats.
That's... romantic?
No. That's terrible timing. Worst timing.
But when IS good timing?
When she's falling asleep mid-kiss?
When she's covered in pasta sauce?
When she's in a tree with squirrels?
There's never good timing with Nana. There's only chaos.
So maybe I should just... say it.
In the chaos.
That feels right.
Feels like us.
Prognosis: Going to tell wife I love her. Today. Probably. Maybe. If I don't lose courage.
Additional note: My hand was on her breast. Her BREAST. And she MOANED. And now I have to do surgery with steady hands while remembering that.
This is impossible.
I'm doomed.
But also... she said it felt nice.
So... acceptably doomed?
Yes.
Acceptably doomed.
.
.
.
.
.
🌻🌻🌻
They arrived at Akso Hospital—the massive medical complex where Zayne spent most of his waking hours.
Nana pressed her face against the car window, eyes wide.
"It's SO BIG!" she exclaimed. "This is where you work?! You're like... the boss of this whole place?!"
"I'm chief of cardiac surgery. Not the boss of the hospital."
"SAME THING!" She bounced in her seat. "My husband is so important! And handsome! And everyone's going to see and know you're MINE!"
*Possessive hamster mode: Activated.*
They walked through the parking lot, Nana practically glued to his side.
Every few steps, she'd grab his hand, squeeze it, then let go.
Like checking he was still real.
*She's adorable. Ridiculously adorable.*
As they entered the main building, several nurses and staff members did double-takes.
"Dr. Li!" One nurse gasped. "You brought someone!"
"My WIFE!" Nana announced before Zayne could respond. "I'm his wife! He's taken! Very taken! Permanently taken!"
*Subtle. Very subtle.*
More staff members were staring now—some shocked, some amused, some heartbroken (his fan club, probably).
"Everyone!" Nana continued, apparently on a mission. "This is my husband! Dr. Li! He's mine! I marked him! See?" She pointed at his coat. "That's my perfume! Territory marked!"
*She's announcing territory markers. In a hospital. To my colleagues.*
"Hamster," he said quietly, "perhaps less announcing—"
"NO!" She grabbed his arm possessively. "They need to KNOW! No Pokemon catching allowed!"
Several nurses were giggling now.
"Pokemon catching?" one whispered to another.
"Dr. Li's wife is... unique," the other responded.
*Unique. That's diplomatic.*
Zayne guided Nana toward the elevators, very aware of all the eyes following them.
"They're staring," Nana whispered.
"Yes."
"Because you're so handsome."
"Or because you announced territory marking in the lobby."
"Same thing!"
*It's not the same thing. Not even close.*
In the elevator, alone finally, Nana leaned against him.
"Zayne?"
"Mm?"
"Thank you for letting me come."
*She's soft now. Not announcing. Not guarding. Just... soft.*
"You're welcome, hamster."
"And... about earlier. With your hand."
*Oh no. Here it comes.*
"I liked it," she said quietly. "A lot. Can we... do more of that? Later? When you're not working?"
*MORE. SHE WANTS MORE. SHE'S REQUESTING MORE TOUCHING.*
"I—" he started, but the elevator doors opened.
*Saved by the elevator. Thank you, technology.*
ZAYNE'S INTERNAL MONOLOGUE - ELEVATOR
She wants MORE.
"Can we do more of that later?"
LATER.
She's requesting advanced physical contact.
For later.
When I'm not working.
Which means tonight.
Which means—
I'm going to die.
Today.
At work.
Death by anticipation.
Prognosis: Absolutely doomed.
But also... she WANTS it.
That's... that's significant.
Very significant.
Tonight.
We'll see what happens tonight.
If I survive today.
Which is unlikely.
But I'll try.
For her.
For us.
For "more."
God help me.
.
.
.
.
.
🌻🌻🌻
To be continued.