A glimpse of forever



Disha hurried through the hospital corridors, adjusting her white coat over her scrubs. It was another exhausting shift, another endless day of rounds and patient charts. But in a single moment, everything changed.

She saw him.

He stood near the nurses’ station, scanning a file with deep concentration. His presence was effortless yet commanding, a quiet storm of confidence and intellect. But it wasn’t just that—it was his eyes. Dark, intense, and filled with a world she wanted to lose herself in.

The soft glow of the hospital lights reflected off his carrot-orange shirt, a color so warm and unexpected in the sterile white of the hospital. It suited him, made him stand out like a sunrise in a world of grayscale. And for that fleeting second when he looked up—just for a heartbeat—their eyes met.

Disha’s breath caught. Her pulse raced.

Did he feel it too? That invisible thread pulling her toward him?

But before she could take a step, before she could even let the warmth of that moment settle in her chest, he turned away. A page on his beeper, a call from a nurse, a distraction from the universe itself. And just like that, he was gone.

The next day, she searched for him. And the next. And the next.

She memorized the way his shirt had looked against his skin, the way his hands moved over the pages of the chart, the way his eyes had flickered toward hers—just once. She clung to that second like a whispered promise, even though she knew it was nothing but a dream.

Days turned into weeks, and she never saw him again.

But sometimes, when she closed her eyes, she could still see the warmth of that orange shirt, still feel the spark of that gaze. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

Because sometimes, love didn’t need a story. Sometimes, love was just a moment—brief, beautiful, and unforgettable.


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