1.Encounter

Celia's POV

It is a pleasant day. The sun shone brightly on the yellow blossoms. The children ran in and out of my house. As I walked into the lane, grandpa called me with my name. "Come here." He shouted which was heard like an echo in my mind. His white mustache widened as he smiled. I looked at him in suspicion and moved further when I saw my mom in her pretty blue dress extended her hands to embrace me. Before I could run into her arms, someone holds my hand. He is just like me in the disguise of a boy, my twin. "Don't go." He shook his head. Soon it was smashed by something and all I could see is a body covered by a white cloth that has bloodstains. "Dr. Celia, do something." I heard the nurses around me say. "Dr. Edwards has summoned you." The compounder informed. "Celia, ... You are so beautiful." The filthy old dog moaned in my ears. I could hear them all shouting, laughing, and warning me at the same time. All the people's faces started to become red and there remained nothing but blood. "Celia?" I saw a little hand trying to grab my dress while I was trying to escape. "Celia." The voice came again as those little hands cupped my cheeks. When I opened my eyes, the white ceiling stood flat and plain above me. 

    I sighed in relief when Cayden placed a kiss on my cheek with his little puckered lips and ran out of my room. The kid is growing faster but too lean for his age. When I entered the kitchen, a delicious smell hit my nostrils. The sight of burritos lying on a plate caught me. As much as my life doesn't allow me to have a fresh start, Sasha will somehow find a way. "What is with that blank face? I made your favorite burritos. Smile." She ordered.

    "Thanks. " I said tying my hair into a messy bun. "Why don't you wake me up?"

     "You slept late. " She sighed. "You are making yourself ugly in the morning itself. Untie your hair." 

     My appearance doesn't matter anyway. I've started to take zero interest in them a long time ago. Not that I am ugly and I am not as beautiful as Sasha. She is a mother who suffered from a lot of complications during Cayden's birth. Although she gained little weight, she didn't lose her charm. Curly short red hair, chocolate brown eyes, curvy body, and especially dimpled smile. Cayden exactly looks like his father, Cayden-my twin. So we are so similar with Grey eyes, black hair, pale skin, and thin lips. Mrs.Young has already arrived to babysit Cayden. We bid them goodbye as we drove to our works.

     "Take the car with you." I heard Sasha say.

     "If something emergency happens with Cayden, it would be difficult for you to hail a taxi. I'm fine with taking a train." 

     Finally, I arrived in my world, Willow Green Hospital that stood dainty and classy in its own way next to Willow Green University of Medical Sciences overwhelmed with white tiles, medicines smell, for some it is sickeningly sweet and for me it is nauseating. I hate to come here, see the faces of people under masks and body under the white coat, blood, and coughs, white and blue, cheers and cries, old and infants, deaths and lives. In a world like this, he walked as a supreme leader. 

    Tall and strong, a face that held roughness of man, walk that displayed arrogance of wealth. Broad shoulders tampered in perfectly built abs, the black shirt is nothing but a piece of fabric that appeared as a pompous invitation for a magnificent show. A man like him is definitely an outcast in a place like this especially when an apartment in New York caught fire and the hospital is filled with a rush of patients and medicines. He didn't care for whatever came in front of him as he walked without raising his head from the phone in his hand. He bumped a staff nurse who is carrying a box of tonics. When they crashed, the nurse fell on the ground with a thud, and all the bottles broke into pieces and the liquid inside started to scatter all over the little area around them. The whole world paused at a second and looked at that mess except him. He neither raised his head nor apologized. His eyes are still down watching the phone and his very expensive boot stepped on the shards and left. 

     I sighed at her pathetic situation. "Dr. Celia, a patient in room number 308 needs to be treated right now." Duty calls.

     I wondered who that patient might be. Those rooms are for VIPs and normally, people who are still pursuing MS aren't allowed to take care of them when it comes to treatment. Maybe this is because the hospital is quite filled today. "What's the case?" I enquired before entering the super deluxe like room. Seriously, the aisle itself felt like a luxurious hotel with a taste of medicine.

      "Gunshot wound. Needs to be dressed." The nurse replied.

     A nurse can do that. VIP for a reason.

     When I opened the door, I found the man in the black shirt sitting on a wound care chair, his legs are spread apart, foot rested on the foot pedal. He is still looking into his phone. 

     "Excuse me. That's for patients." I mentioned the chair.

     He raised his eyes, now I had a closer look at them, I observed the beautiful sea green balls intently staring at me. After a brief scanning of my body, he turned his eyes to the phone, did something, and later tossed that on the bed aside. "I am." He spoke. His voice was harsh, a little high pitched and sharp. He has a perfect chiseled jawline covered by a stubble beard. Now, at this second, I know the meaning of Greek God. It's him. But he is no God. He has an evil smile. He leaned on the contoured back of the seat, "Check yourself."

   "Remove your shirt." I tried to order in my regular low tone. 

   He placed his hands on the fold-up armrest provided for the chair. Seriously! He actually expected me to unbutton his shirt. But I am not going to do that. I wore my gloves and took the scissors, ready to dress the wound. He smirked as if in an appreciation and a warning and took his hands off the armrests. I know he is removing his buttons but I didn't dare to look at his body. I looked into his beautiful green eyes and they held my gaze. As his hands reached his chest, a gold skin made an appearance, unlike the pale skin most men have. 

    The wound is a little above the heart area and is ruptured very badly that it is bleeding. The wound might have infected and I remembered the moment when he crashed into the woman in the lobby, the box struck him right there. The wound must have ruptured then. How come he did not give a slightest expression of pain when an incident like that happened. He really is rough. 

     He literally undressed me with his eyes as I dressed his wound. I wanted to scream asking him to stop looking at me like that. But I remained silent like always. But with him, it seems too dangerous. After I was done, I told him the precautions he needed to take care. He didn't seem to listen but scanned my body. Anyway, I did what my job is. When I was about to leave the room, Sasha called me.

    "No, I won't be done by 5. It's okay, I'll take a train. Yep. Sure." 

    "I can give you a ride." He offered after hearing my talk with Sasha. But when he said "ride" his eyes beckoned to his laps. I understood what he meant. I said nothing when he added, " not a ride on my dick, ride in my car." 

    I didn't respond and walked out in an appropriate composure. But my heart is not at ease. Never in my life, I've encountered a man who could have so much effect on me just with a look and his rough hands, I could actually imagine what he could do with them. But I tried too hard not to give a reaction. Even before the most handsome doctor in the hospital, I stood with zero interest and anticipation while everyone drools over him. But this guy is different. Why the hell is he breathtakingly gorgeous! So rough and so masculine, exactly what a man ought to be, exactly how I like a man. Lillian, my only friend here joined me as I walked down the aisle. "Everyone is talking about him. And you got to see him. What did you do?"

     I rolled my eyes. " I don't even know his name."

     "Alexander. It suits him well like Alexander the great." 

     I would rather call him "Alexander the brute."