182 Days

Nerves at it's best

I stood next to him and in a hushed tone, I inquired, "Do you need any assistance, sir?"

I didn't quite make out his face, but it seemed like he had been eagerly awaiting my offer of help.

"Thank goodness. I'm completely new here. Could you lend me a hand with this? Please gather those materials and stand close by. Hand them to me as I need them. And, could you please get me a size 7 glove?" he said, sounding visibly relieved.

"Sure, sir. Just give me a moment," I responded and proceeded to help him remove the dressings, examine the wound, and dress it after.

As we finished dressing the patient, he motioned for me to come over to the window. I couldn't help but admire the breathtaking weather as I walked over - the wind was howling and dark clouds loomed overhead, creating the perfect ambiance.

"And you are?" he asked, standing just inches away from me.

My heart raced at the proximity; I had never been this close to a man before in my life.

I found myself standing just 15 cm away from him. He was towering over me, making me tilt my head back just to meet his gaze. But to my surprise, he was already bending down to talk to me, saving me from a neck strain. His eyes met mine, and I could feel the weight of his expectations.

"2nd-year MBBS, sir," I managed to say, trying to hide my nervousness behind a forced smile.

"And are you working part-time here?" he inquired.

"No sir, it's our clinical classes," I replied.

His intense gaze never wavered as he asked, "So, how did you end up here?"

"I didn't score high in the NEET examination, sir, but I somehow managed to secure a seat through counseling. I was hoping for a government college, though," I explained with a sigh.

I usually don't give this kind of answer to PGs or other doctors, as it might come off as rude or intimidating. But he's just a CRRI, my senior - what's the worst that could happen?

He couldn't help but stifle a small laugh before asking the next question. "So, are you a day scholar or a hosteller?"

I couldn't help but feel like I was being interrogated by a detective.

"Day scholar, sir," I said, hoping he'd wrap up the conversation.

"Ah, I see. And your name?" His voice softened, and I swear I could see a hint of a smile in his eyes.

"Maya, sir," I replied.

"Alright, Maya. Thank you," he said, nodding his head.

I was struck by how incredibly fit he looked as he walked away from me. His muscular arms hinted at an active lifestyle, though not the kind you get from lifting weights in a gym.

His crisp, blue shirt was immaculately tucked in, appealing to my love for perfection.

I forced a smile and returned to my seat, trying to steady my racing heartbeat.

"Ugh, my nerves!" I muttered to myself and gulped down water like I hadn't had a drink in days.

The entire interaction felt surreal, like something out of a dream. I've never been this close to a stranger who maintained such intense eye contact.

I didn't ask him anything about himself for two reasons. Firstly, it could be seen as rude. Words in my world are like sharp knives, capable of cutting deep. And secondly, well, I'm an introvert to the max.