Yaffe didn’t finish reading the remaining messages, and walked back to the office under the suffocating judgmental gaze of Anne and the nurses. As she is entering the office, she feels the energy in her feet give away and collapses on her swivel chair, unable to gather the necessary strength to get back up.
She is 26 years old, has no significant other, and no outstanding qualifications on her resume compared to numerous other classmates that studied abroad. She feels anxious about how much longer she will have to be a resident doctor.
Classmates with worse scores in college went abroad straight after their undergraduate graduation returning with a PhD and sparkling internship and work experience, welcomed to high ranking positions as head physicians or as specialist surgeons at top hospitals.
Yaffe started working immediately after finishing her postgraduate studies in China, and is also studying during her spare time. She had more clinical experience than many of these returnees from abroad, and her professional capabilities are comparable to say the least, but she is just an ordinary resident doctor in an unknown hospital, so the way up is slow and arduous.
If only she had made the quota to study abroad, how different would her fare have been? Yaffe was pondering and daydreaming but only for a moment, stopping rationally as none of this mattered anymore.
Suddenly, she heard footsteps approaching the office. Yaffe had her head resting on her desk, eyes shut, too lazy to look up and merely said tiredly, “Place the report on my desk please. I will sign it later.”
Yaffe dozed off for several seconds not hearing the sound of the report being placed on the table. She opened her eyes suspiciously to see Quinn standing in front of her, hands crossed staring at her watchfully. Seeing that Yaffe was awake, Quinn, expressionless, walked around behind her desk, turned off her computer, and then yanked off her white coat and threw it on the back of the chair.
Yaffe was confused by this series of actions and said coldly, “Mr. He, we are in public. Please contain yourself.”
“You are tired Yaffe, I will bring you back to rest,” Quinn responds in a deadpan tone. Yaffe is discombobulated and retorts, “We are not intimate, stop trying to make moves!”
“Moves? Literally what moves though?” Quinn counters, to which Yaffe really had no unequivocal answer. Quinn continued to take her hand and lead her out of the office.
“Let go!”
“What if I don’t?”
Yaffe was annoyed by this remark, “Quinn, don’t take my politeness for granted!”
“Don’t be so polite, then.”
Yaffe was incredulous and speechless. Passing-by Anne, she mutters a perplexed word “Yaffe… um—”
“Mr. He’s child is not feeling well so I will pay him a visit personally to check up on him. Put the report on my desk please, Anne, and I’ll sign it tomorrow.” Yaffe would’ve liked to stop and say this face to face with Anne but Quinn was harboring no intention of letting go, and thus Yaffe had no choice but to pretend everything was going as planned, and quickly explained as Quinn dragged her along.
Anne watches with her mouth gapping open, big enough to fit a couple goose eggs. “Uh, okay…” Anne shyly nods as her eyes are glued to Quinn’s toned body. He pays no attention to her and pulls Yaffe into the elevator with him.
**
They enter the elevator and Yaffe frees herself of Quinn’s grip. “What on earth are you trying to do?” Yaffe whispers vehemently. Quinn’s slender figure looks rather handsome leaning against the elevator wall, his high-quality custom made suit perfectly outlining his lanky yet well toned body.
He’s unusually charming, with his dropping eyebrows and sultry look under the projection of the light. He almost looks like an exquisite painting, flawless. Even his lips looked softer than the usual female’s.
“Yaffe, marry me,” Yaffe thought she had hallucinated from sleep deprivation, but looking at Quinn’s serious yet patient expression she understood that this was not an illusion.
The corner of Yaffe’s mouth twitched against her will, and she replied, “Aha, um, so since when have we been close enough to start talking about conjugality?” Quinn doesn’t stall in responding, “I was serious.” Yaffe responds facetiously, “Is that so? You want to propose to a stranger you’ve only seen three times in your life?”
Quinn, again, without stalling counters eloquently, “Who says you can’t get married after only meeting three times? If it’s the right person then you can get the marriage certificate after the first date. A couple not meant for one another can be together for fifteen years and yet will still each go their own way eventually.” Quinn leans forward and looks at her skin, satisfied with how delicate and fair she looks, “I think we can be together for a lifetime, so, I want to marry you.”
Quinn’s warm breath lightly brushes Yaffe’s face, along with his faint aroma of sandalwood and pine. Yaffe knows how blazingly hot her face is without even needing to touch it. She forces herself to calm down and says, “Go say this to some other girl. I’m sure many dream of hearing it,” At which point the elevator door opens. A trace of cunningness flashes across Quinn’s eyes and he reaches out to grab Yaffe locking her in his arms, her head against his chest.
Yaffe’s eyes grow large and she thinks he is about to kiss her, quickly blocking him with her hand but Quinn is one step ahead and grabs her hand, placing her face against hers. Quinn gently presses Yaffe’s hand by her hip but with a slight force so as not to hurt her. Their faces and lips were so close that any movement of either side would result in a kiss. Yaffe was so nervous she didn’t dare breathe.
Quinn’s deep amethyst eyes, dark like the churning sea, Yaffe’s eyes are bright and clear like the midnight sky, especially when striking against her milky skin. Yaffe’s being is so pure, every inch of her body could be described as such. Nothing artificial, no trace of unnatural work. It’s a type of congenial and genuine beauty that makes anyone stop to stare.
Both them staring at each other’s reflection in their eyes, Yaffe’s heartbeat begins to pound as she can’t look away from Quinn’s gaze. Quinn staring into Yaffe’s eyes could no longer see the slightest indication of mockery or contempt.
…
The people outside the elevator did not expect such a situation in the elevator and stood marveling. Yaffe breaks away from Quinn immediately who lets go of her just one second before Yaffe struggles free of his grasp, and just as the elevator door opens revealing their new spectators.
“Yaffe!” An indiscernible male voice yells out from outside the elevator. Yaffe heard the voice and feels as if her heart plummets to the floor.
Zeow is there, her eyes shifting between Quinn and Yaffe, finally settling on Yaffe seemingly in an attempt to find something suspicious in her eyes. To Zeow’s dismay, Yaffe does well at hiding her feelings, keeping cool and collected and internalizing all her feelings.
Yaffe doesn’t look at Zeow or Quinn for a single second and quickly scurries out of the elevator, around the spectators and to the parking lot of the hospital where she quickly located her car and locks herself inside. How could Zeow suddenly appear at the hospital like this? What did she want? As she ponders, the driver’s seat door is opened and outside stands no other than Quinn.
She looks at him incomprehensibly, not understanding why he is stalking her. Quinn stares at her pallid face, purses his lips and says coldly, “Sit in the passenger’s seat now, I’ll drive.” Yaffe, now at her limit, closes her eyes and mumbles feebly, “Quinn, you wanna play games? Then change your target. I don’t have the time for this.”
Quinn impatiently picks her up and carries her out of the car, stuffing her in the passenger seat. Yaffe normally would have resisted but for some reason, whether it was fatigue or out of shock, she allowed him to carry her. Quinn, satisfied with how obedient she was, went around the car and got into the driver’s side to start the car.