How sunshine!reader and general practitioner!rafe meet
She came in with a twisted ankle and a thank-you smile.
He noticed her before she even sat down — cheeks a little pink from the heat, sunglasses perched messily in her hair, mismatched socks under her sneakers. She greeted the receptionist as if they were old friends, even though it was her first time there.
“Hi! I think I did something dumb to my ankle. Sorry to bother you—”
He glanced at the chart. First name. Age. No medical history. Nothing to explain why the room suddenly felt warmer.
When she entered his office and when she sat across from him, smile soft, hands folded politely, rafe almost forgot what he was supposed to say first.
“It’s not that bad,” she said, lifting her foot like she didn’t want to inconvenience him.
But when he touched her ankle gently to examine the swelling, she winced — and immediately apologized.
“Sorry! That wasn’t your fault. I’m just a baby with pain sometimes.”
He looked up, brows raised. “You don’t have to apologize for hurting.” That was the first time she blinked at him like someone had said something she didn’t expect. Then, quieter, “Oh. Right.”
She chatted while he wrapped her ankle, about how she tripped while trying to carry too many groceries, about how pretty the waiting room smelled (eucalyptus and mint), and about how nice it was to find a doctor who didn’t seem like he was in a rush. He didn’t tell her he slowed down just to make her stay longer.
When she was about to leave, she turned around and said brightly
“I hope I don’t have to see you again! But if I do, at least I know I’ll be in good hands.”
And then she was gone, like sunlight through a window.
That evening, Rafe found himself looking at the appointment list again. Not for medical reasons — just to see her name one more time.