A/N: Sorry for the late update! Also, totally forgot to put a disclaimer last chapter saying that I know next to nothing about the inner workings of a hospital so please forgive me if I sound completely ignorant. Enjoy!

It was so silent that if a pin were to drop, it would sound thunderous. I stood stock still in the middle of the room, my thoughts racing a mile a minute. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't speak, and I was moments away from a panic attack.

"Miss Swan, I..."

Though his voice was the softest I'd ever heard it, I flinched at the sound. He fell silent at my response, but his reaction fueled my own. I swiveled to face him, anger bubbling up and out of my mouth.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

The intensity with which I spat my question shocked even me, so I could only imagine his reaction. I paid no mind to it as I started pacing in front of him.

"This isn't good. This is not good at all. What am I gonna do? What am I gonna do?"

He held his hands out in a placating manner and attempted to speak again. "Miss Swan—"

I barreled right through whatever he was going to say and grasped at my head, tangling my fingers in my curls.

"This isn't supposed to be happening. We were never supposed to see each other again. And now this? How am I supposed to deal with this?"

"Briar!"

Two firm hands clasped my arms, effectively stopping me in my tracks. I looked up at him with wide eyes and my chest heaved with the exertion of my anger.

"I'm sorry that things turned out this way, but I did tell you I was a doctor."

"Yeah, but I thought you were just saying that to get me to relax. I didn't realize you were actually-" Actually telling the truth. My eyes grew impossibly wider, and I gasped as something else dawned on me.

"So you...you really are a vampire?" I asked, my voice dropping to a whisper on the last word.

His face scrunched up and he averted his gaze. "Yes."

My slowing heartrate picked right back up in speed as I furiously started to shake my head. He must have released me because I was able to back up a few steps from him.

"Look, Miss Swan, I realize this situation isn't ideal. But I hadn't realized that you were so," his breath caught, causing his voice to waiver, "so afraid of me."

His statement and the distraught tone with which he said it caught me completely off guard. I took a moment to really look at him. His whole body was tense, his hands hung by his side balled into fists, and he refused to make eye contact, instead choosing to stare hard at a spot on the floor. His whole composure screamed hurt.

All the anxiety and anger left me in an exhale, leaving me to feel deflated. My heart broke as it occurred to me just what I had sounded like.

"Oh, Doctor Cullen, no." I tentatively took a step toward him, and this time I was on the receiving end of a flinch. Pressing forward, I cupped his face in my hands and tried to get him to look at me, to understand. It was no use. He was as solid as stone. "No, I'm not afraid of you. I'm afraid for you."

He inhaled sharply, his eyes finally meeting mine. "What?"

It was spoken so quietly that had I not been looking at him as intensely as I was I wouldn't have even realized he said anything.

"You silly, silly man. How could I ever be afraid of you? You saved my life after all."

"Then why were you so frantic?"

"I'm terrible at keeping secrets."

His laughter was boisterous. It racketed through his entire body, shaking me along with it. Frowning, I tried to step away but he wrapped his palms around my wrists, keeping me firmly in place.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to laugh. It's just this whole time you..." he trailed off in even more laughter.

"It isn't funny, Doctor Cullen—"

"Carlisle, please," he managed between laughs.

I rolled my eyes and stomped my foot. "Doctor Cullen, Carlisle, whatever. The point of the matter is that this is the worst possible situation! It was easy when you were just the attractive, mysterious zombie from the woods that I would eventually forget about. I mean, just before my loose lips and I almost slipped up and revealed you weren't entirely human. Now? Now you're the dreamy vampire doctor I have to face every day and consciously make an effort to not make 'bite me' jokes around."

Eyes sparkling, he dropped the biggest bombshell of the day. "I believe the proper term is 'dreamboat' as your friend Cynthia excitedly claimed."

Mortified, my face and my heart dropped. "You heard that?"

"Yup. And they aren't contacts, by the way."

"Oh my god."

"Now you know I'll always be listening. Perhaps that'll keep those loose lips of yours tight."

This was... Was he..? It felt as though a line was being toed, and I wasn't quite sure which one of us was going to cross it first. I took the first step over.

"And if it doesn't?" I whispered, leaning in just a smidge.

He opened his mouth to say something but stopped abruptly, offering me an apologetic look instead. I blinked, and I was suddenly standing alone, arms still raised. Carlisle was now seated at the desk closest to the door, his eyes scanning over the clipboard that rested on a stack of paperwork.

"Oh, that's actually—"

A knock at the door cut me off.

"Your coffee order awaits, milady!"

My ears went hot. Dalton.

I avoided looking over at Carlisle as I walked to the door and flung it open, embarrassed. I relaxed at the sight of Dalton's brightly shining smile as he held up a tray with two large cups in one hand and a paper bag in the other.

"I brought goodies," he exclaimed, rocking the bag back and forth.

I smiled warmly at him. "Thanks, Dalt. How much do I owe you?"

He shrugged, passing the items over to me. "Don't worry about that. Mr. Schuyler put you on his tab again. The cheese danish is on me."

"Aw, thank you! You didn't have to do that."

He shrugged again, rubbing the back of his head. "I wanted to. 'sides, you sounded like you were having a rough day back. You almost never order two chais first thing in the morning."

"Oh! Uhm, well, that's because—"

In my peripherals I spotted a pale hand wrapping itself around the edge of the door before I felt a presence looming over me.

"Briar? You get the lat—oh, hello." He squeezed into the doorframe next to me, bringing the hand that was grasping the door over my head to hold out in front of him. "I'm Doctor Carlisle Cullen. And you are?"

The shock on Dalton's face was short-lived, his resident smile reappearing as he returned Carlisle's handshake. "Dalton Eckhart. I'm a nurse in the pediatric wing. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Pleasure's all mine."

Something in his tone had my eyes flicking up to him. There was nothing overtly off about him, but I could tell something in his face was different. It hit me. His smile wasn't warm like it is with me or polite like he used with Cynthia. No, it was cold, curt, fake. Dalton didn't seem to notice anything amiss so I said nothing.

"Well, I oughta be off. Catch ya later, Bry!"

He departed with a wave, and I turned to go back into the office only to be stopped by Carlisle who was still standing next to me in the doorway. He was also staring down the hall, unblinking.

"Carlisle?"

He seemed to snap back into reality, becoming animated as if he weren't perfectly imitating a statue moments earlier. Smiling down at me, he grabbed the items in my hand and walked back to the desk he previously occupied. I followed him inside and shut the office door behind me. I leant back against the door, staring at him.

I opened my mouth to ask just what in the heck that was, but something told me I would get nowhere. So I went with the next best thing.

"You know you keep sitting at my desk, right?"

A knock at the door had me sighing in relief. After Dalton left this morning it felt as though a switch had been flipped in Carlisle. What was meant to be a playful jab about sitting at the wrong desk turned into him taking it way too seriously, sincerely apologizing and switching to the desk in the back without another word. No banter, no joking glance, nothing. He hadn't spoken to or looked at me since.

The only sounds that filled the office were the tapping of keys and shuffling of papers. My coffee and danish had remained untouched, afraid that the crinkling of the wax paper or a slightly-too-loud sip would snap the tension that settled between us. Another knock at the door had me jumping to my feet, eager to quiet the offending noise. Opening it, I was met by an eager-looking Cynthia.

"Hey! You ready to go?"

I blinked dumbly at her. "Huh? Go?"

"Yeah..." she drawled, giving me a funny look. "You know. To lunch?"

More blinking. "It's lunch time already?"

"Are you okay? We don't have to go the cafe today if you aren't feeling up to it."

"Yeah, yes! I'm feeling just fine." At the mention of the cafe, I was acutely aware of exactly how hungry I felt. "God, I'm starving!"

I walked to my desk to grab my bag, Cynthia's laughter trailing after me.

"That's shocking. I saw Dalton walking with your order this morning. If that wasn't enough to fill you up, then you must not have eaten in three days."

I rolled my eyes at her over my shoulder, surreptitiously sparing a glance at the untouched breakfast on my desk that was blocked from her view by the door. "Ha ha. I'm allowed to have a human appetite every once in a while."

"Whatever you say, princess."

Bag over my shoulder and keys in my hand, I pulled the door closed behind me as I walked out, departing with a half-hearted 'see you later' to the other occupant. Linking my arm with Cynthia's, I gave her a pointed look. "And don't call me princess!"

Giggling, she tugged me down the hall. "Come on. I already wasted ten minutes waiting for your slow ass."

We quickly made our way down to the first floor and into the wing that held the attached hospital cafe. Despite being part of the hospital and all of the stigma that comes with it, it was quite a sizeable cafe and included enough variety to keep Cynthia and I coming back each day. Plus, it certainly helped that we benefited from an employee discount, something we never failed to take advantage of.

I was in the middle of deciding between a ham and turkey hoagie or a Caesar salad and chicken soup combo when Cynthia came sidling up next to me.

"So?"

I gave her a side-long glance. "So what?"

She huffed a laugh. "You know what!"

Exasperated, I grabbed the sandwich off the shelf, and a fruit bowl for extra measure, before walking over to the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water. "Honestly Cyn, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You didn't get any of my texts?"

"You texted me?"

I shoved the water bottle under my arm and balanced my sandwich on top of my fruit bowl to reach into my pocket for my phone. Sure enough, it lit up with the notification of at least seven texts from her.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry. I didn't even realize."

I tucked my phone away and reached in my bag for my wallet, placing my items in front of the cashier. I motioned for Cynthia to do the same.

"Lunch is on me, as an apology."

"You don't have to tell me twice! But are you sure you're okay? You seem a little off. It's not that Doctor Cullen, is it? Working you too hard on your first day back?"

She nudged me playfully, but it didn't escape me that she wasn't too far off the mark. I twisted my lips to the side, avoiding any eye contact with her as we walked to our table.

"Well..."

She slammed her items down and plopped herself into a chair, eyes wide. "Shut. UP. Really? In the office, too. That's kinky!"

"What?" My sandwich was halfway to my mouth when it dawned on me that I had been completely off the mark in understanding her meaning. "No! I didn't mean it like that!"

"I know, I know. But a girl can dream, right?"

"Whatever you're dreaming about, leave me out of it."

She laughed and took a moment to spear some veggies out of the container in front of her. "He does have something to do with it, though, right? Your mood, I mean?"

I chewed slowly on the bite in my mouth, mulling over exactly how much I was willing to reveal. Supposing it couldn't hurt to get a second opinion, I let her know about the drastic change in Carlisle's attitude and how it was throwing me for a complete loop.

"And now he's acting like I don't even exist! I don't know what to do!"

"Maybe he's just... like that?" I sent her a questioning look. "I mean, you just met the guy for crying out loud. Who knows, he could be putting up a front but is secretly a giant douche."

"Yeah, but—"

I bit my tongue. She doesn't know that we've met before. Doesn't know that I've seen how he really acts. A niggling thought in the back of my mind. But do I really? Who's to say he wasn't faking it then? And this morning? Was the true reason he was so distraught because my fear might have lead me to be more inclined to blab? But then why spill the beans in the first place? My head was going in circles and it was only when I took another bite to calm my nerves that I noticed Cynthia was still talking.

"Look, all l'm saying is to give the guy a chance. It could be first day jitters or he could be a certified asshole. Only time will tell at this point."

"I suppose."

We fell into a comfortable silence, finishing up our food. I was picking at the last few melons in the bowl when she spoke again.

"You and Dalton... what's that about?"

Groaning, I stabbed my fork through a melon, using it to point at her. "That is something I'm definitely not talking to you about," I said before shoving the fruit into my mouth.

"Don't be boring. At least tell me what you think of him!"

"He's... nice."

"Nice? Nice? Briar, that boy would give you his left arm if you needed one and all you can say about him is that he's nice?"

I shrugged. "I mean, I dunno. There's just nothing there for me. No chemistry, no connection. I need to have a spark with someone, and I just don't get that with him."

"While I can't say I don't understand, I must say I'm disappointed. You aren't stringing him along for the perks, are you?"

"Absolutely not! I've made it very clear that I consider him to be a very good friend. If he still wants to do things for me after that, then that's his prerogative."

"Laaaaame."

"And this is exactly why I didn't want to talk to you about it," I rolled my eyes at her teasingly. "Stop trying to use my love life as a source for your entertainment."

"Lack thereof, more likely," she grumbled. "I'm a married woman with a young child, I gotta live vicariously through someone. Just my luck that I chose the most boring 19-year-old in Forks."

I laughed loudly at that and she joined right in. Our conversation moved on to more mundane topics until the rest of our lunch break was over. I walked her back to the front desk and bid her a farewell with promises of seeing her again on Thursday.

It was as I was riding the elevator up to the third floor when I got hit with a craving for something warm and sweet. Joyfully remembering that I still had my danish, my mouth started to salivate with thoughts of the sweet treat. I made it in to the office, prepared to bring my goods over to the microwave, and stopped short.

There, sitting decidedly not where I left it on the opposite side of my keyboard, was the pastry I had been drooling over. Next to it sat one of the lattes from this morning. I wrapped my hand around the paper cup and then stuck a finger in the danish before flinging it back out and sticking it in my mouth. Both were piping hot. I glanced over to the back desk but found it unoccupied.

So, not a complete asshat, then.

Carlisle made no move to look up or say anything when Briar left for lunch. Once she was gone he dropped his head into his hands, rubbing at his temples.

She was right.

This is not good at all.