Chapter Text
Elena had been a nurse for over ten years, and had thought she had experienced everything the job had to offer, the highs and the lows. Yet today, as she pinned her hair back into a neat bun and prepared for her shift, she felt the tendrils of excitement usually reserved for much younger, star-struck teenagers. Alex Claremont-Diaz, the First Son of the United States, and his husband, the former Prince Henry of England, were here in her hospital.
In the nurse's station, whispers bubbled up like a wellspring among her colleagues.
"Have you seen them? They're even more gorgeous in person!"
"I heard Alex was here for an appendectomy?"
"Yes, and Henry hasn't left his side. It's like a movie!"
Elena offered a tight-lipped smile, trying to keep the professionalism she wore like a second skin. Inside, she recalled the moment their love story spilled across the world, through a series of emails that showcased a romance that was as endearing as it was extraordinary. She remembered feeling horror for the boys, having their most intimate feelings and desires broadcast all over the world, to be gossiped about. The invasion of privacy they had endured had made her feel sick, and she decided she would do her best today to make sure they had some privacy today, as much as she could offer them.
As she made her rounds and approached Room 307, she felt her heartbeat quicken. She had to remind herself that these were just patients, and she was here to ensure their care, not to indulge in her fascination with their celebrity status.
She knocked gently and entered, the scene before her melting the starch from her nurse's uniform. Alex, a bit pale but otherwise as charismatic as the world knew him to be, was attempting to wave away a bowl of hospital food with a dramatic flair that made Henry chuckle.
"Your Highness," she slipped before catching herself- he technically wasn’t a prince anymore, "Sorry—Henry." She glanced at the chart. "Everything going okay?"
Their exchange was light-hearted, and Elena found the corners of her mouth twitching upwards in response to their banter. She felt like she was witnessing a private moment between two people who were utterly themselves, even in a hospital room. Alex’s teasing about Henry's looks and the latter's shy reactions were a stark contrast to the statesmanlike images splashed across the media.
Elena had to stifle a chuckle when Alex clutched his 'treasure' of hospital food. She played along, offering it back to him, and caught Henry's appreciative glance. They were a team, these two, in sickness and in health.
As she left the room, the warmth from their connection lingered with her. She caught sight of herself in the reflective surface of the medication cart outside their room. Her expression was soft, eyes crinkled—not just the professional nurse, but Elena the person, who appreciated the simple beauty of love.
Back at the nurse's station, the questions began.
"So? Are they as lovely as they seem online?"
Elena took a breath, the professional veil descending again. "They're patients like any others. And they deserve privacy and respect, especially here." But the fond smile she couldn’t quite suppress spoke volumes.
…………..
Elena's thoughts were a gentle buzz in her mind as she balanced the tray with practiced ease, the warm scent of chicken and corn broth filling the sterile hospital air.
Approaching the room, she caught the tail end of a conversation—Alex's voice, slurred slightly by medication, floating through the slightly ajar door.
“Well, if I can't have pizza, maybe I can have something else?” The suggestiveness was unmistakable, and Elena tried her best- and failed to- hide a smile, professionalism could only get her so far.
She nudged the door open. "Time for a little sustenance," she had planned to say, but the sight that greeted her—Henry's wide, mortified eyes, and Alex's impish smirk—altered the script.
"Alex!" Henry's hiss was a mix of shock and scandal, and Elena had to remind herself that composure was part of the job.
Clearing her throat, she stepped fully into the room, her lips quirking despite herself. “I’m afraid the only thing on the menu tonight is broth,” she said, allowing the glint of amusement in her eye to show. She set down the tray, her gesture understated but her words tinged with a light-heartedness that the situation seemed to call for. “Any...other activities will have to wait until discharge.”
Alex's expression morphed into an exaggerated pout, and she could feel the playful banter bubble up within her, the human response to a moment of levity in a place often so devoid of it. "No pizza, and now this? You're breaking my heart!"
She watched as Henry seemed to shrink, his discomfort palpable in the charged air of the room. "I'll survive, somehow," Alex's resilience to the embarrassment, in contrast, seemed as robust as his immune system post-op.
"Stay strong," she found herself saying with a wink. She made her exit, not before giving Henry a look that she hoped conveyed understanding—no judgment here, just another night in the hospital.
As she stepped out, closing the door behind her, Elena's smile lingered, the image of Alex squinting at the bowl of broth imprinted in her memory.
Elena stepped out, her heart pounding a little louder than usual as she made her way back to the nurses' station. She set her clipboard down, her hands steadier than she felt inside.
"Everything alright, Elena?" one of her colleagues asked, eyebrows raised in mild curiosity.
Turning to her fellow nurse with a restrained smile, Elena nodded.
"Oh, you know, just the usual post-op antics," she said lightly, keeping the levity in her tone to match the levity she had offered in the room. "Medication can make patients a bit... cheeky."
The other nurse chuckled. "I heard it was the First Son and that prince in there. Anything we should know about?" the inquisitive glint in her eye not quite masked by professionalism.
Elena thought about the moment, about Alex’s cheeky proposition, and Henry's crimson face. She felt a protective surge, a nurse's instinct to shield her patients—not just from physical harm but from the exposure of their vulnerable moments.
"Only that they're both recovering as expected," Elena responded, deflecting the curiosity.
"Alex is quite the character, even on meds, and Henry is just as caring as the tabloids say." That was all she was going to say, nobody needed anything more.
Her colleague seemed to accept this, nodding and turning her attention back to her own paperwork. Elena allowed herself a moment, her eyes unfocused, thinking about the tender dynamics she had just witnessed. There was a sweetness in their interaction, a deep bond that felt like it transcended the public image she had known.
She shook her head slightly, her smile growing as she thought of Alex's mischievous grin and Henry's embarrassed plea. They were just two people, famous or not, navigating the world together.
As her shift ended, and she walked down the hallway, her steps were a little lighter, her faith in love a little stronger. Nurse Elena would return tomorrow, her professionalism intact, but with the secret joy that her job allowed her brief glimpses into the wonderful, sometimes messy, but always real, lives of her patients—even if they happened to be the most famous couple in the world.