Taylor’s Version

i. spiral out, try and float

ii. see a friend, see a ghost

iii. bitter-brained, always drunk

iv. rail-thin, zoloft

v. subtle change, shorter days

vi. dead-eyed, dead weight

vii. your life, your dreams, your mind

viii. your needs, my needs (part 1)

ogilvie blinks from across you. he runs a hand through his tousled hair and nods curtly. “oh,” he says faintly, internally freaking out because he was the top of his class at whatever school he went to and he wasn’t supposed to mess up.

you grin, knowing that feeling all too well. “hey, don’t get down on yourself. with time comes wisdom. you’ll get used to it.” you promise, giving him a comforting pat on the shoulder. you scribble something quick on the chart and hand it back to him before he scurries off.

you’re already turning back to the computer when you pat the counter beside you automatically, searching for something that isn’t there. your hand lands on the cold desk and you frown. “…damn.”

dana glances over. “what’s up, kid?” she tilts her head, looking above the top of her glasses.

“forgot my coffee this morning,” you sigh, already pulling up another chart. “i was already here before i realized.”

“rookie mistake.” she tsks, already looking up at the patient board again.

“i know,” you mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose. “this shift might kill me.” you say casually, fingers clicking against the keyboard again.

three feet to your left, jack abbott hears every word. he’s leaning against the far counter pretending to review a chart he finished five minutes ago. his eyes lift the second you say forgot my coffee. he continues watching you—like always. you’re talking again now, explaining something to a student doctor javadi, gesturing with your pen, hair slightly messy from the start of a long shift. you laugh at something perlah says and the sound carries toward him.

jack used to feel guilty for observing you. it would curl up the nape of his neck and plant itself there every time he realized he’d been watching you for longer than necessary. you were one of the best residents he’d ever seen, so naturally, like any other attending, he kept an eye on you (even though you technically were under dr. robby). still, the first few times he caught himself leaning against a counter across the department, eyes following the way you moved from patient to patient, he’d look away immediately. like he’d been caught doing something he couldn’t quite justify.

now it’s just routine. jack walks into the department and his eyes find you automatically. across the room, down the hall, wherever you’ve planted yourself in the middle of the noise. he tells himself it’s habit. just keeping track of a resident. but the truth is simpler than that.

“abbott.” he looks over, snapping out of whatever trance overtook him. robby, his longtime friend and coworker, raises an eyebrow. “you’ve been staring at her for like…three minutes. blink, brother.”

jack glances back at you. you’re still talking, still smiling, still completely unaware. “…was reading the chart,” he grumbles, scratching the back of his neck.

robby snorts, fingers drumming against the tabletop. they’ve known each other long enough to call bullshit. “whatever keeps you going.”

jack sets the chart down with a huff and pushes off the counter. he taps his pocket, feeling the cold weight of his phone, and murmurs, “gonna make a call.”

robby stifles a laugh, shaking his head briefly before assisting dr. mckay with her patient.

~

about twenty minutes later, you’re halfway through typing a note when a paper coffee cup slides quietly into your line of sight. you pause, blinking like it’s a figment of your imagination, before looking up.

dr. jack abbott stands on the other side of the station, one hand braced on the counter, the other nudging the coffee toward you. he’s wearing a black scrub top that squeezes his juicy biceps, and acting pretty casually for someone who’s not supposed to be working yet.

your eyes flick between the cup and him. “did someone get this for me?” you ask, fluttering your lashes at him subconsciously.

jack stares at you. his mind runs blank. behind you, princess slowly swivels her chair to watch. jack drags a hand down his face. “yeah,” he says flatly. “somebody did.”

you nod thoughtfully. you should ask who or where it came from, but you’re running on fumes. “okay.” you pick up the coffee, pressing your lips against the lid and taking a generous sip. jack watches you drink it like a man waiting for a verdict, his finger tapping against his thigh. your shoulders relax instantly. you hum quietly. “this is really good.”

jack exhales through his nose. “glad you approve,” he murmurs, biting back a smirk. call him a creep, but he’s the only person in the department that can get your coffee order correct down to a T.

you finally glance up again, eyebrows lifting like you’ve only just remembered he exists. “wait,” you say. “you’re here early.”

jack tilts his head slightly, pursing his lips. “that bother you?” his voice is lower than before, causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach.

“no,” you say quickly, ignoring the tingly sensation in your stomach. truth be told, you’re never bothered to see him. “you just usually come in later.”

he shrugs, crossing his arms over his broad chest. it’s a losing battle to keep your eyes on his. “couldn’t sleep.”

dana snorts from behind you, shaking her head while dialing a number on the phone. she bites her tongue, choosing peace for once. jack doesn’t take his eyes off of you, ignoring dana’s antics entirely.

you groan sympathetically. “that’s the worst. i always have melatonin with me if you need it.”

jack’s mouth twitches. a flush forms from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. still, his gaze stays glued on you. “i’ll keep that in mind.”

with a smile, you turn back to the computer, already clicking through charts again, and attempting to calm your nerves. you grip the poor coffee cup, hoping jack doesn’t notice your skin is hot to the touch.

finally, he begrudgingly leaves to assist on a patient down the hall. when he’s out of sight, dana, who stands besides you, leans closer. “you know he bought that for you, right?”

you frown at your chart. “abbot?” you glance up at her, brows furrowed. she nods her head, widening her eyes like ‘wasn’t it obvious?’ you glance over your shoulder toward the hallway he disappeared down. “yeah, but he’s just nice. he’d do it for anyone.” you insist, scratching the top of your head.

dana stares at you like she’s trying to solve a complex neurological condition. “sure…” she finally says.

you just shrug, taking another sip of your coffee because that has to be the reason. right? why else would he buy you the coffee? you close your eyes, shaking the thoughts out of your head because…no way. meanwhile, somewhere down the hall, jack abbott is absolutely losing his mind.

{ TWO }

hour five is always the worst, in your opinion. close enough to the middle of your shift that you should feel motivated, but not quite there. not enough to push you through. just enough time for the exhaustion to settle in your bones and stay.

you’re in bay four with a chart tucked under your arm. the elderly woman on the stretcher looks small under the hospital blanket, silver hair falling loose around her shoulders. her ankle is already swelling beneath the thin sheet and she keeps apologizing every few seconds for something that wasn’t her fault.

“hey,” you murmur gently, crouching slightly so she doesn’t have to crane her neck to see you. “no apologies. gravity gets the best of all of us.”

she laughs softly at that. “i tripped on the rug,” she explains again. “my daughter keeps telling me to get rid of it.” her lips pull downward as she continues. “but it’s just so beautiful.”

you nod while carefully pressing along her ankle, fingers gentle but firm as you check for tenderness. “nothing wrong with enjoying art,” you say lightly. your thumb presses along the swollen joint and she winces just a little. you soften your touch immediately. “even if it occasionally decides to fight back.” she smiles in response.

behind you, jack stands close enough that his shoulder nearly brushes yours when you shift. robby got pulled into something more serious ten minutes ago, and jack (who once again is here before the start of his shift) stepped in without much explanation besides a quiet, i’ll help you with this one. you didn’t question it.

jack watches the way you explain each movement before you touch the patient. the way your voice softens slightly when she winces. the way your hands move with that careful confidence that only comes from repetition. you’re good at this. he already knew that, but still.

“alright,” you say after a moment, straightening slightly. “i’m gonna order an x-ray just to be safe, okay?”

the woman nods, commenting something about you being a doll. then, her eyes flick between you and jack. a slow smile spreads across her face. “aren’t you two just the sweetest together.” you both freeze. “such a nice couple,” she continues warmly. “working side by side like that.”

your brain stutters. “oh-” you start, laughing nervously. jack’s mouth twitches, but he doesn’t flinch. you shoot him a quick look before turning back to the patient. “we’re not-”

the woman waves her hand dismissively. “no need to explain, dear.”

jack lets out a quiet chuckle behind you. it’s low and amused and extremely unhelpful. you clear your throat, suddenly very focused on the color of your pen ink. “we just work together.”

the woman hums like she heard you and chose not to believe it. well,” she says sweetly, glancing at jack, “he looks at you very nicely.”

your face heats instantly. you pretend to adjust the blanket around her ankle so you don’t have to respond. jack goes very still beside you. the room stays quiet for a beat before you say, a little too brightly, “okay! we’ll get that x-ray and see what’s going on.”

you scribble something on the chart and step toward the door. jack follows. the second you’re out in the hallway, you exhale like you’ve been holding your breath. “oh my god.” jack laughs softly in response. you glance at him. “you could’ve said something.”

“about what.” he feigns innocence.

“the couple thing.”

jack shrugs, hands slipping casually into the pockets of his scrub pants. “didn’t seem necessary.”

you stare at him. your eyes are wide and mouth agape. “it was embarrassing.”

jack tilts his head slightly, studying you for a second longer than necessary. then he says, voice low and teasing, “i didn’t mind playing your boyfriend for a few minutes.”

your brain stalls. you stare at him like he spoke a different language. jack watches the exact moment the words land. the faint color climbing up your neck. the way the floor tiles suddenly call your attention. his mouth curves slightly.

you clear your throat once again. he definitely didn’t mean it like that. jack abbot is many things, including a vigorous flirt. he’s just trying to fluster you. “i’m sure you’d do it for anyone,” you say weakly, turning toward the nurses’ station, “i-i,” cough, “have to, to go do something.”

jack moves to the side, motioning for you to walk. “go ahead,” he murmurs, but he’s smiling.

{ THREE }

the ambulance bay doors swing shut behind you with a hollow metallic clang. outside, the air is colder than it looked through the glass. it slips straight through the thin fabric of your scrubs, raising goosebumps along your arms almost instantly. your hands brace against the cool metal railing and you stare out into the dark parking lot like it might answer the questions still bouncing around your head.

the case had gone bad fast. too fast. one minute the patient had been talking. the next minute the room filled with voices and hands and alarms screaming over each other. someone calling for another unit of blood. someone else pushing meds. robby barking orders across the bed. you’d done everything right.

your shift ended an hour ago. by now, you should’ve been cuddled up with a hot cup of tea and your favorite fluffy socks and maybe a nice book. but after…that…you couldn’t leave. you offered to help the transition into the night shift and assist with some cases. it was enough to keep your mind off of it until now.

your jaw tightens. you take another slow breath, trying to push the noise out of your head. the ambulance bay door opens again behind you, but you don’t have the strength to turn around. heavy footsteps approach, steady and familiar, until someone stops beside you.

jack rests his forearms on the railing beside you. for a second, neither of you speak. he glances sideways, taking a deep breath. the brisk air burns his throat. you’re staring straight ahead, shoulders tense, lips pressed together like you’re trying very hard not to let the thoughts spill out.

jack knows that look. he’s spent way too long memorizing it. “hey,” he says quietly, bumping his shoulder against yours. you hum in response, which is about the most energy you can spare. jack watches you for another moment. “you did good in there.”

you shake your head slightly, inhaling sharply. “we lost him.”

jack sighs, nodding. “sometimes we do.”

you stare harder at the parking lot. “that doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck.” you mutter, tears pooling at your waterline.

that pulls the faintest huff of a laugh out of him. “yeah,” he says. “that’s the official medical term.” you shake your head, a small smile threatening at the corner of your mouth before it disappears again.

the wind picks up slightly. you shift your weight. jack’s eyes fall to your arms. they’re crossed loosely over your stomach, bumps covering every inch of skin. your shoulders hunch just a little to tell that you’re shivering. he straightens slightly. “hold on.” he says with a tight-lipped smile.

you glance at him. “wha-” but he’s already pushing off the railing before you can finish. you watch him disappear back through the ambulance bay doors with a small frown. he probably got sick of watching you mope. you scoff, kicking yourself mentally because he’s the chief attending and you’re standing here burdening him with your emotional issues.

about a minute later the door swings open again. jack steps back outside to find you in the same position as before. this time, something dark is slung over his arm. you blink as he walks back over and holds it out. a gray zip-up sweatshirt lies in his extended hands.

you stare at it, not moving. “what’s this?” you ask, even though it’s pretty obvious. you’ve never seen him wear the fabric. you’ve only watched him saunter through the automatic doors, eyes intense, and sweatshirt in his hand as he prepares for the night shift.

jack lifts an eyebrow, motioning his hand toward you. “take it.” his voice is low and raspy.

you hesitate. “i’m fine.”

jack gives you a look. the kind that clearly says you’re absolutely not fine. “you’re shivering.” he simply states.

you glance down at your arms like you only just noticed. “…maybe a little.” your hands rub up and down against your arms. jack doesn’t move. the sweatshirt stays extended toward you. after a second, you sigh and take it. “thanks.” when you pull it on, the scent of musky cologne and him fill your senses. you breathe deeper, the smell like a drug. your brain catches up a bit later. “wait—are you gonna be cold?”

jack snorts quietly. “i’ll survive.”

you zip it up the rest of the way, the sleeves a little long over your hands. you fold your arms again, but this time it’s inside the sweatshirt. “thanks,” your voice is softer.

jack shrugs like it’s nothing. “don’t get used to it.”

you glance sideways at him. “you’re very grumpy for someone doing something nice.”

“i’m always grumpy.”

“debatable.”

jack looks at you. his eyes bore into yours, memorizing every detail he can of you. your shoulders have relaxed slightly. the tight line between your brows is gone. mission accomplished. “you should go home now.” he starts softly. “the day shift is all gone and we can handle the rest from here.” he urges.

after a moment, you clear your throat and nod. “i’ll bring this back tomorrow.”

he shakes his head. “keep it.” he says it like it’s no big deal. like he’s not your boss and he’s not lending you a sweatshirt in an oddly intimate way. before you can argue, he says, “you forget things,” he’s already turning toward the door. “figure this way you’ve got a spare.”

you stare at him and just laugh. “that seems like a terrible system.” your shoulders move as you giggle. after the night you’ve had, this is the funniest scenario ever.

jack glances back over his shoulder. his mouth curves slightly. “works for me.” he disappears back inside before you can respond. you stand there for another moment, wrapped in his sweatshirt, staring at the ambulance bay doors.

your fingers curl into the sleeves, fabric bunching around your hands, still warm from him. it sits heavier on your shoulders than it should. you exhale slowly, shaking your head to yourself, a small, tired smile tugging at your lips.

he’s probably just used to this. used to residents stepping out after bad cases, quiet and shaken and trying to hold it together. used to knowing exactly what to say, what to do. how to fix it just enough to get you back on your feet.

you huff out a soft breath, pushing yourself off the railing. “yeah,” you murmur under your breath, already turning toward the doors. “he’s just good at his job.”

{ + ONE }

the bar is loud. a different type of loud than you’re used to. instead of the sharp, frantic noise of the ER, it’s the warmth of conversation and light jokes. robby makes a toast, glasses clink, and drinks are tipped back. the day shift claimed a long stretch of tables near the back. someone dragged two together at some point. chairs are half pulled out, people shifting and talking over each other like no one’s had a full thought all day and now they finally can.

you’re next to samira with one leg tucked under your chair, and your drink sweating in your hand. “i’m telling you,” samira says, covering her mouth to giggle before she even gets the words out. “dr. robby is hot.”

you gasp, choking on your drink before barking out in laughter. “i mean…i can see it.” you say quietly. she raises an eyebrow. you pause. “ok…of course he is.” you rephrase. “he’s just not my usual type.”

beside you, perlah and princess chuckle, pretending that they aren’t eavesdropping.

“what you mean is,” samira takes a swig of her drink before finishing. “he’s not jack abbot.”

you swear you almost drop your glass. “keep your voice down!” you hiss, looking over both shoulders to see if anyone heard.

“it’s not like it’s a secret!” she argues, barely containing her laughter. “you both like each other and you’re both too dense to see it.”

“i would know if someone liked me.” you insist, swirling your straw around in your glass. the ice cubes clink with each stir.

she rolls her eyes, nudging you with her elbow. “yet, you’re the only one who doesn’t.” she huffs out a laugh, shaking her head.

the conversation shifts again after that. someone across the table starts complaining about charting, whittaker gets louder, joy says something dry that makes half the table go quiet for a second before laughing. this is the part of the job makes everything else feel worth it.

you’re sitting quiet, listening to the chatter of samira and the occasional arguments of the med-students when a cool breeze brings goosebumps in its wake. you shiver, peaking over your shoulder.

jack abbott steps inside, pausing just past the threshold. he wasn’t planning on coming. it’s his night off. he told himself he’d stay home for once, maybe get a decent night’s sleep. maybe do something that didn’t revolve around the hospital. then robby mentioned called and drinks. then mentioned you’d be there, and here he is.

he scans the room once, finding you easily. he almost physically stumbles when he processes you. you’re laughing at something samira said, head tipped slightly back, hair down around your shoulders instead of tied up like it always is. you traded your scrubs for a pair of jeans and a simple top that fit you in a way that should be illegal.

jack exhales slowly. right. this was a mistake. he runs a hand over the back of his neck, debating turning around and walking right back out. instead, he straightens slightly and makes his way over. he doesn’t go to you first. mostly because he’s nervous and he’s sporting a semi-hard that needs to go down.

he stops by the end of the table, nodding at everyone, and engaging in conversation with robby. dana gives him a knowing look that he pointedly ignores. “thought you had the night off,” she says, blatantly interrupting robby.

“i do.” he crosses his arms.

“and yet.” dana motions to the room and where he stands.

jack shrugs, casual. “heard there were drinks.” dana hums like she doesn’t believe him for a second. she glances past him, toward you, and then back. jack pretends not to notice. he lingers there longer than necessary, letting himself get pulled into the edge of a conversation he’s not really listening to. how could he listen when you’re there looking like that?

he’s aware of you in a way that hinders his ability to interact. the sound of your voice cutting through the noise. the way you gesture when you talk. the way you lean into samira, laughing at something under your breath. he drags his gaze away, but it always comes back. he’s metal being pulled into your magnetic field.

finally, he pushes off from the end of the table. he circles the group until he’s right behind you. he can hear you clearly now, even smell your perfume.

“you always this loud?” he asks, voice cutting cleanly into your conversation, “or is this a special occasion?”

you freeze. samira’s eyes go wide for half a second before she bites her lip to keep from laughing. slowly—slowly—you turn your head. up close, he looks even better than he did from across the room. you can see his features clearly. the stubble beard he bother shaving, his salt and peppered curls, and that hardened look that always melts you. could he be anymore perfect?

your brain stutters. “i’m not loud,” you retort, which is immediately a lie.

jack raises an eyebrow. “no?” he asks, voice low, amused. “could’ve fooled me.”

samira lets out a quiet snort beside you. you shoot her a look before turning back to him, narrowing your eyes slightly. “maybe you’re just eavesdropping.”

“maybe you’re just easy to overhear.”

you open your mouth, then close it. you can barely breathe the way he’s still looking at you, never mind forming coherent sentences. you swallow. “what are you doing here?” you ask, tone lower.

jack shrugs, one hand settling on the back of your chair. your back brushes his fingers when you lean closer. “thought i’d see what you all look like outside the hospital.”

your stomach flips. samira makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like oh my god. “and?” you ask, lifting your chin slightly. “what’s the verdict?”

jack’s gaze drags over you in an antagonizing slow manner. it starts at your face, and dips before coming back up. your breath catches.

he hums. “undecided.”

samira chokes on her drink. “i need another round,” she blurts, already sliding out of her seat. she grabs princess and perlah by the wrist and drags the with her before you can even process what just happened.

traitors.

you’re suddenly very aware of the empty chairs beside you, and the fact that jack doesn’t move away. if anything, he moves closer. “so,” you say, clearing your throat, trying to ignore the way your heart is picking up speed. “night off?”

“yeah.”

“and you chose to spend it here.”

“seems that way.”

you huff a quiet laugh, glancing down at your drink (because if you don’t you’ll stare at him arms). “we’re honored.”

jack’s mouth twitches. “you should be.” he lowers his voice to a gruff sound. that has to be his bedroom voice, you think. you look back up at him, rolling your eyes, but there’s no heat behind it.

he watches you for a second longer than necessary before finally dropping into the chair samira abandoned like it was always his. your knee brushes his and neither of you move. you take a sip of your drink just to give your hands something to do. jack doesn’t look away. he leans back slightly in his chair, one arm draped behind you like it belongs there.

you clear your throat. “so,” you say, glancing at him, “you just haunt bars on your nights off now?”

jack huffs quietly. “only the ones you’re in.”

your brain trips over itself for half a second. you recover fast. mostly. “that’s…concerning.”

“yeah,” he nods. “i’ve been told.”

you shake your head, trying not to smile into your drink. the liquor warms your throat, giving you some much needed confidence. neither of you move. you glance down at your glass again, tracing the rim with your finger. “they’re short on night shift,” you say after a second. “again.”

jack’s attention sharpens. he notes the way your voice lowers. you don’t want anyone else at the table to hear. “yeah,” he nods, pouring himself a beer from the pitcher on the table. “we are.”

you look up at him through your lashes and he has to adjust his pants. you stall, questioning if this is the right time or place to talk about this. finally, you exhale. “i was thinking about maybe switching over for a bit,” you continue, shrugging one shoulder. “just temporarily. try something different.”

almost immediately, he replies, “you should.”

you blink, stifling a laugh. “that was fast.”

he doesn’t even try to backtrack. “you’d be good over there.”

you tilt your head slightly. “you don’t even know what i’d be like on nights.”

“yeah, i do.”

your brows lift. “you’ve never seen me on nights.”

“don’t need to.”

you bite the inside of your cheek to calm yourself. you feel tingly all over. “you’re very confident.” you say, avoiding eye contact with him.

“i’m usually right.”

“debatable.”

“not about this.” there’s a quiet certainty in his voice that makes it hard to brush off.

you shift slightly in your seat. “i just-” you sigh. “i don’t know how robby’s gonna feel about it. i feel like he’s gonna think i’m abandoning day shift or something.” you ramble. “and-”

jack leans forward now, thick forearms resting on the table. “robby won’t be mad at you,” he interrupts with no room for discussion.

you glance at him. “you say that like you speak for him.”

“i’ve known him longer than you,” jack replies easily. “he’s not gonna hold you back.” you nod slowly, but your not convinced. “he likes you,” jack adds.

your lips twitch. “he likes everyone.”

jack shakes his head slightly. “he admires you.” he corrects himself.

your eyes flick back to his. there’s something in his tone that makes your chest tighten again. you look down quickly. “i just don’t want it to be weird,” you say, softer now.

jack watches you for a second. then leans in just a little more. “it won’t be,” he says. he’s close enough that you can feel his breath fanning against your skin. your breath catches. after a moment, he straightens again. “we can talk more about it over dinner.” he states in a matter of fact tone.

you nearly choke. your brain tries to file that under professional—it doesn’t match. “…what?”

jack’s mouth curves slightly. “dinner,” he repeats, like it’s obvious. like you’re the one lagging behind.

you stare at him. that didn’t sound like just a friendly request. your heart starts picking up. “like…with the team?” you ask, clinging to logic.

jack’s gaze doesn’t waver. “no.”

your stomach drops. “…just us?”

“that’s usually how dates go, no?” he smirks. there’s no hesitation.

everything clicks at once. the realization flashes across your eyes in series of memories. the coffee, the sweatshirt, the way he shows up early, and the way he watches you like you’re the only thing in the room. your breath catches. “you’re asking me on a date?” you ask like you had to say it out loud for it to process.

jack’s smile deepens. “took you long enough.”

your heart stutters. “wait-” you sit up straighter, staring at him. “you’re serious?”

jack leans in slightly, voice low. “i asked you to dinner.”

your pulse jumps. “i thought you meant like talking about the shift-”

“we can talk about the shift,” he nods, taking a sip of his glass. his eyes flick down to your lips for a split second before coming back up. “doesn’t have to be the only thing.”

oh.

oh.

your face heats. you look away, then back, like you don’t know where to land. “you’ve been-” you shake your head slightly, almost laughing. “this whole time?”

“pretty much.”

you huff out a disbelieving breath. “i thought you were just-” you stop yourself.

jack raises an eyebrow. “just what.”

you groan, dropping your head into your hand for a second. “i don’t know…normal.”

that actually makes him laugh real low. “this is me being normal?”

you peek at him. “apparently not.” you lower your hand slowly, looking at him again. your heart is still racing, but you don’t hate it. “you’re bold,” you say quietly.

jack’s mouth curves. “only when it counts.”

your stomach twists again. you shake your head slightly, smiling despite yourself. “and you just assumed i’d say yes?”

“no.” he shrugs simply.

the honesty catches you off guard. “then why ask?”

jack holds your gaze. “because i wanted to.” he murmurs. “figured you were worth the risk.”

you stare at him for a second longer, tilting your head like it might help you figure him out better. “…ok.” it slips out before you can overthink it.

jack tilts his head slightly. “ok?”

you nod, a little more certain now. “yes, i’ll go out with you.”

a boyish grin takes over his face. it may have taken months of what he thought was obvious flirting, hundreds spent on overpriced coffees, and more self-control than he’d ever admit out loud, but he got there. now you’re sitting in front of him, cheeks warm, eyes a little wide, finally seeing him the way he’s been seeing you all along.