The corridors of St.  Hospital buzzed with activity as Victor walked in, his tall frame exuding confidence. The polished black shoes clicked rhythmically against the tiled floor, drawing attention from everyone around.

"Good morning, Dr. Victor," a group of nurses chorused, their smiles brighter than usual as they watched him pass.

"Good morning," Victor replied with a slight nod, his voice deep and composed. His strikingly handsome features—sharp jawline, piercing gray eyes, and perfectly tousled dark hair—were enough to make anyone stop and stare.

“He’s so perfect,” one nurse whispered to another as they watched him disappear down the hall.

“I wouldn’t mind being his patient,” another giggled.

Victor smirked slightly, overhearing the murmurs but choosing to ignore them as he made his way to the ward.

---

Inside, an elderly patient was sitting upright in her bed, her frail hands clasped together as she stared out the window. Her silver hair caught the sunlight, and her wrinkled face showed years of wisdom.

“Good morning, Mrs. Thompson,” Victor greeted warmly as he entered, picking up her chart.

She turned her head slowly to look at him, her gaze sharp and calculating.

Victor prepared an injection, noticing her eyes lingering on him longer than usual. He raised an eyebrow and chuckled softly. “What is it, Mrs. Thompson? Have you fallen for me too?”

Mrs. Thompson rolled her eyes and turned her face away with a huff. “Don’t flatter yourself, doctor,” she said.

Victor’s smile widened, a playful glint in his eyes. “Still the same as the day you arrived here—stubborn and unyielding.”

“And you’re still as handsome as ever,” she muttered, glancing at him from the corner of her eye.

Her words made him chuckle as he administered the injection. “You’re too kind, Mrs. Thompson. But don’t tell me you’re developing a soft spot for me after all these years?”

She scoffed. “Handsome or not, I’ve got better things to do than flatter you.”

Victor shook his head with amusement. “Always a pleasure, Mrs. Thompson.”

---

As he stepped out of the ward, adjusting his lab coat, a familiar voice called out to him.

“Victor!”

He turned to see his colleague and old friend, Dr. Adrian Carter, walking toward him with a grin.

“You’re free early today,” Victor remarked, falling into step beside him.

Adrian laughed. “From the day you joined, I’ve been free all the time. Do you even realize what you’ve done to the rest of us? Everyone wants you as their doctor. Even patients without psychological issues are demanding to see you!”

Victor smirked, his sharp features softening slightly. “Are you jealous, Adrian?”

Adrian leaned casually against the counter in the break room, sipping his coffee while Victor reviewed a patient file. The morning sun filtered through the blinds, casting warm streaks of light on the polished floor.

“You know,” Adrian started, setting his cup down, “it’s crazy how many nurses—and even patients—are smitten with you. Every day, I hear at least one of them talking about you.”

Victor didn’t look up from the file. “Hmm,” he hummed nonchalantly, flipping a page.

Adrian smirked, pushing further. “So? Are you seriously not interested in any of them?”

Victor finally looked up, his gray eyes calm but unreadable. “Not yet.”

“Not yet?” Adrian repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Come on, Victor, you’re 28. What  is your  type.”

Victor closed the file and leaned back in his chair, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He seemed to be thinking, his gaze distant. “Someone…” he began, his voice trailing off.

Adrian leaned in, intrigued.

But Before Victor could respond,  his words were interrupted by a nurse rushing toward them.

“Dr.  ” she said, slightly breathless.

“A patient just arrived. She’s been given a strong dose of some drug and is unconscious. We’ve stabilized her, but her condition is delicate.”

Adrian’s playful demeanor shifted instantly, his expression turning serious. “Where is she?”

“Room 214,” the nurse replied.

Adrian nodded, his stride purposeful as he made his way down the hall.