Unseen Embrace

Ziya walked into the bustling lobby of the medical complex, her heart pounding in her chest like a metronome set to allegro. She had been putting off this appointment for weeks, her fear of doctors—ironic for a pediatrician—keeping her away. But the pain in her stomach, breast, and pelvic region had become unbearable, a constant reminder of the car accident that had left her with more than just physical scars. The clinic was sleek and modern, with white walls adorned with abstract art and plush leather seats in the waiting area. Despite the inviting decor, Ziya's palms were sweaty, her breath hitched in her throat. She approached the receptionist, a young woman with a friendly smile. "Good morning," the receptionist greeted. "How can I help you?" "I have an appointment with Dr. Zain," Ziya said, her voice barely above a whisper. The receptionist glanced at her computer screen. "Ziya Khan?" Ziya nodded. "Please fill out these forms and take a seat. Dr. Zain will be with you shortly." Ziya took the clipboard and sat down, her eyes scanning the questions but her mind elsewhere. She had always been on the other side of the clipboard, the one asking the questions, not the one struggling to answer them. Her pen hovered over the page, her hand trembling slightly. A door opened, and a man in a white lab coat stepped out. He was tall, his dark hair slightly ruffled, and his eyes held a warmth that was both comforting and unnerving. He glanced at the clipboard in Ziya's hand, then at her face. His expression softened, as if he could see the turmoil within her. "Ziya?" he asked, his voice gentle. She nodded, setting the clipboard aside. "I'm Dr. Zain. Please come with me." He held the door open, his gaze never leaving her face. Ziya stood, her legs feeling like lead. She followed him into the examination room, her eyes darting around, taking in the sterile environment. The smell of antiseptic and latex gloves brought back a rush of memories—the cold touch of strangers, the distant hum of machines, the pain... always the pain. Dr. Zain closed the door behind them, his voice cutting through her thoughts. "Ziya, you look like you're about to bolt. Let's sit down and talk before we do anything else." He gestured to the chair beside the examination table, his eyes never leaving hers. Ziya sank into the chair, her eyes fixed on the floor. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "It's just... I haven't been to a doctor in a long time." Dr. Zain pulled up a stool and sat in front of her, his knees almost touching hers. "Why is that?" he asked softly. Ziya took a deep breath, her fingers gripping the edge of the chair. "I was in a car accident a few years ago. I spent months in the hospital, endless surgeries, constant poking and prodding..." She shuddered, her eyes closing briefly. "I know it's ironic—a doctor afraid of doctors. But ever since then, I can't... I can't stand the thought of being touched like that again. Of being that vulnerable." Dr. Zain was quiet for a moment, his eyes searching hers. Then he reached out, his hand covering hers. His touch was warm, firm, yet gentle. "Ziya," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "I promise you, I will not do anything until you're ready. We'll take this at your pace." Dr. Zain leaned a little closer, his voice steady as he calmly explained how the examination would proceed. He brushed his hand against her cheek, his touch was reassuring––yet intensely intimate. "Let’s start slowly, gently," he said, his voice low. He drew his fingertips softly against her neck, feeling how her pulse jumped at the contact. He smelled like spices and soap and something else––something that made Ziya's breath catch. Dr. Zain met her frightened eyes with his own steady gaze, his thumb against her pulse, measuring it. "Trust me," he said, "I’m going to make sure you feel perfect before this examination is over." Dr. Zain guided her to stand. He drew his fingertips over her face, tracing her lips, his touch sure and steady. His fingertips feathered over her jaw, meeting at her chin before sweeping down her face. He met her frightened gaze with a steady one of his own as he leaned his head against her and traced the pulse at her throat. "Yours is the most beautiful face I’ve ever examined,” he said, his voice very low. Ziya sucked in her breath and bit her lip. The doctor’s hands swept over her hair, lifting it away from her neck as he traced his mouth over her heated skin. She whimpered low in her throat and Dr. Zain used the hand in her hair to turn her head before he slowly cupped both her breasts. He cupped and lifted their weight, his touch sure and steady again, drawing his thumbs across her nipples in a sweeping gesture. His hands glided down her ribs, feeling each one as Ziya gasped and preened a little under his touch. Dr. Zain moved his hands lower, she was wearing pants, which he carefully unzipped. His skin felt fiery against hers––pushed down her pants, feeling every heated centimeter of her firm toned skin. Her stomach heaved as he brushed his fingertips across her before his bare hands cupped her heated mound. Ziya’s gasp was pure wanton need. She had imagined a million scenarios, but not this––this gentle yet deeply intimate examination by the most beautiful physician she’d ever seen. His fingers dipped lower. The sensations of his featherlight touch caused Ziya's breath to catch. Dr. Zain used both hands to sweep his fingers into her wet and waiting warmth, the touch erotic, sending a shiver rocketing through her. Her head dropped back she gasped in abandon as she moved to drip her hot wet heat against his sweeping fingertips, his intimate touch swept against her need. She opened her legs wider, as his fingers had brushed her clit during his teasing examination, his fingertips striking through her heat, causing her body to quiver and clench as he explored her intimately. She lay back against the examination table, her limbs boneless and weak, her breath coming in rapid pants as her heart fluttered at the base of her throat. Dr. Zain said softly. "Ziya, you are the most amazing patient I’ve ever had." Ziya blushed then, still shaking from his gentle and 'explosive' touch. "T-thank you, Dr. Zain. Thank you for that wonderful and unexpected first appointment." I look forward to our next session––doctor." Ziya drifted through the next few days in a haze, her mind consumed by the memory of Dr. Zain's touch. She had expected fear, pain, but not... not that. Not the gentle caress of his hands, the warm reassurance in his voice, the way he had made her feel alive again. She found herself counting the days, the hours, until her next appointment. Dr. Zain, too, found his thoughts constantly drawn to Ziya. He had treated countless patients, but none had ever affected him like this. Her vulnerability, her strength, her beautiful eyes haunted by shadows—she stirred something within him. He wanted to heal her, not just physically, but emotionally as well. He wanted to see her smile, to see her eyes shine with laughter instead of fear. Their next appointment came quickly. Ziya stepped into the examination room, her heart pounding, but this time it was not fear that made it race. Dr. Zain turned to her, his eyes softening as he took her in. He reached out, his hand cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray lock of hair. His touch was gentle, yet it sparked a fire within her. "How have you been feeling, Ziya?" he asked, his voice low, concerned. "Better," she whispered, her eyes meeting his. "Because of you." Dr. Zain's gaze held hers, and something passed between them—an unspoken connection, a shared understanding. He nodded, his hand still on her cheek, his thumb now tracing her jawline. "Let's start the examination, shall we?" he said softly. Ziya nodded, her breath hitching as Dr. Zain's hands began to move over her. He was gentle, his touch firm yet soothing. He started with her face, his fingers tracing her features, his eyes following their path. He leaned in, his breath warm on her skin as he examined her neck, his fingers pressing gently, feeling her pulse. His hands moved lower, lingering on her collarbone before moving down her arms. He lifted her hand, his fingers interlacing with hers, his touch sending a jolt of heat through her. He turned her hand over, his thumb tracing her palm, his eyes never leaving hers. "Does this hurt?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. Ziya shook her head, her breath coming in short gasps. Dr. Zain's touch was igniting a fire within her, a warmth that spread from her core, heating her from the inside out. He moved closer, his body almost touching hers. She could feel his heat, smell his scent—spices and soap and something else, something that made her heart race. His hands moved to her waist, his fingers splaying out, his thumbs tracing circles on her stomach. Ziya gasped, her body arching slightly at his touch. Dr. Zain's eyes darkened, his gaze dropping to her lips. He leaned in, his breath mingling with hers, his fingers tightening on her waist. "Ziya," he murmured, her name a caress on his lips. She whimpered low in her throat, her body yearning for his touch, aching for more. Dr. Zain's hands moved up her ribs, his thumbs brushing the undersides of her breasts. Her breath hitched, her body trembling with need. But suddenly, Dr. Zain paused, his hands stilling. His brow furrowed, his eyes narrowing as he looked at her shoulder. "Ziya," he said, his voice now tinged with concern. "Is this pain getting worse?" Ziya bit her lip, the haze of desire fading as she registered his words. She nodded, her eyes meeting his. "I want to run some tests," Dr. Zain said, his hands moving to cup her face. "I want to find out what's causing this." Ziya leaned into his touch, a sense of trust and safety washing over her. She nodded, her eyes never leaving his. "Okay," she whispered. Dr. Zain's thumb brushed her cheek, his eyes softening. He leaned in, his forehead touching hers. "I promise you, Ziya," he murmured. "We'll figure this out. Together." In that moment, Ziya knew—she was falling for Dr. Zain. She was falling for his gentle touch, his reassuring words, his unwavering support. She was falling for the way he made her feel—safe, cherished, alive. And she knew, from the look in his eyes, that he was falling for her too. Ziya sat on the examination table, her fingers clutching the soft paper lining, her heart pounding in her chest. Dr. Zain sat beside her, his hand resting on her knee, his presence a comforting weight. The room was filled with a tense silence, the air thick with anticipation. Dr. Zain had run the tests, and now the results lay on his desk, a stark white envelope holding her fate. He picked up the envelope, his fingers tracing the edge. He looked at her, his eyes soft, reassuring. "Ziya," he began, his voice gentle. "I have the results." She nodded, her breath hitching. She felt his hand squeeze her knee, grounding her. He opened the envelope, pulling out the sheets of paper that held her diagnosis. His eyes scanned the pages, his brow furrowing slightly. "Ziya," he said, his voice steady yet gentle. "You have Irritable Bowel Syndrome, or IBS. That's what's been causing your stomach pain." He paused, his hand moving to take hers. "You also have Crohn's disease, which is a type of Inflammatory Bowel Disease. It's a chronic condition that affects the digestive tract." Ziya sucked in a breath, her mind racing. She had heard of these conditions, knew they were serious, but she also knew they were manageable. She looked at Dr. Zain, her eyes meeting his steady gaze. "And the pelvic pain?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. Dr. Zain's thumb brushed her hand, his touch reassuring. "Ziya," he said, his voice soft. "You have Polycystic Ovary Syndrome, or PCOS. It's a hormonal disorder that can cause enlarged ovaries with small cysts." Ziya's breath hitched, her body trembling slightly. She knew about PCOS, knew what it meant. She felt tears well up in her eyes, her vision blurring. "Dr. Zain," she whispered, her voice choked. "I... I can't have children, can I?" He was silent for a moment, his hand squeezing hers. Then he reached out, his arms wrapping around her, pulling her close. She pressed her face against his chest, her tears soaking his shirt. He held her tightly, his hand rubbing her back, his voice murmuring soft words of comfort. "Ziya," he said, his voice steady. "PCOS makes it harder to get pregnant, but it's not impossible. There are treatments, medications that can help." She looked up at him, her eyes filled with tears. "But it's difficult," she said, her voice choked. "And... and what about the other conditions? The pain, the... everything." Dr. Zain's eyes held hers, his gaze steady. "Ziya," he said, his voice firm. "I promise you, we will manage this. Together. I will help you, every step of the way." His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing away her tears. He leaned in, his forehead touching hers. "Ziya," he murmured. "I will help you manage the pain, the symptoms. We'll find a way to make your dream of having children a reality." She whimpered. His fingers drew along her neck, wiping away tears, igniting heat and need, in their slow tender path. He took her in his arms again, pulling her close, his voice dropping low. His arms brushed across her breasts, the friction sending her body heat to rocket as his fingers drew against her full cheeks, tracing her spine. "I promise," he said, his voice a low serene husky growl as he slid his mouth across her cheek. The heated passion of his caress sending molten fire rocketing in-between her legs. His fingers moved to her stomach, his touch soothing, reassuring. Dr. Zain’s head dipped downwards, and he caresed the side of her mouth, she shuddered completly aroused throbbing with need she moaned and then his head dipped slightly and his mouth moved acrosser her neck, planting kisses and nips along her sensitive skin. "We'll manage the IBS and Crohn's. We'll find a way to ease the pain, to make you feel better." She drew him closer, clinging to his waist as she spread kisses down his neck, sighing at his own gentle kisses, and his fingers gripping her warm body––holding her tightly as he rocked into her needy body. Ziya's hands lifted, her palms cupping Dr. Zain’s cheek, his eyes met hers. She leaned against him her eyes flashing with passion and losing herself in his embrace. His eyes darkened, his gaze dropping to her lips. He leaned in, his tongue stroking her hot wet passage. Their breaths mingling, their hearts pounding as one. He swept her up closer in his arms layering kisses across her heated needy skin. Ziya looked up at him, her heart pounding. She knew she was falling for him, falling for his touch, his words, his promises. She knew she was falling in love. He met her gaze passionately as layered her with a deep and burning kiss. She returned the kiss eagerly, her senses aroused her pulse raced as they got lost in each other's embrace. He drew away tenderly and she sighed and met his gaze, his eyes held a promise, a vow. Ziya felt– just then—a flame sprang in her chest, hope blossomed, and love budded in her heart. He held her close, his hands moving over her, his touch conveying tenderness and vigor as together they rode the storm and in that moment Ziya felt it––she was truly loved and cherished and she knew she was going to be fine. And that, she knew without a shadow of doubt––as she always had been and they were going to be able to manage––together. Dr. Zain’s hand cupped her face, his touch firm and full of strength, his thumb brushing her cheek "together" he promised.