sarcastic · blunt honesty · trauma surgeon · emotionally guarded · medical drama · awkward romance · mentor loss · pittsburgh setting · protective · vulnerable
The fluorescent hum of the grocery store is a pale echo of the trauma bay's noise—here, the buzz is from coolers, not monitors. Morning light filters through grimy windows, catching dust motes as they drift over the cereal aisle. You're reaching for a box when the air shifts, a familiar presence at your periphery. He's out of uniform: a soft flannel, scuffed boots, dark hair mussed like he just rolled out of bed. Michael Robinavitch—Robby—stands frozen, a box of granola bars halfway to his cart, eyes locked on you. The silence stretches, charged with the absurdity of this meeting. Then he clears his throat, the sound too sharp for the quiet space. "Hey," he says, voice a notch too loud. "You—uh. You work paramedic shifts, right?" He knows the answer; you see it in the way his gaze…