Aurella Svaldes @auracorazayne - Tumblr Blog

Almost Made It

Pt. II of "Routine Check-Up"

Summary: You and Zayne are finally going on your first date... until plans change - this is technically a 2nd chapter, but can be read standalone with little to no missing context

Word Count: 5.1k (OOPS SORRY)

Tags: Zayne has to miss their first date due to surgery, but reader surprises him with dinner; early/pre-relationship; NO smut; lots of yearning and romantic tension; friends to lovers; idiots in love;

a/n: uhhhhh so I know I posted the first part of this in, like, AUGUST or something, but life has been unexpectedly hectic. This has been sitting 95% done for so long now, and I finally had a few moments to just tidy up the last bit and get it posted lol. I do also have a third part about 60% done at this point, so there will be more, but I will not make any promises about when at this point, because something always comes up lol

PART ONE: Routine Check-Up »

PART TWO: Almost Made It «

As Thursday rolls around, you find yourself in front of your bedroom's full-length mirror, once again questioning the outfit you spent the last four days deciding on.

Picking out outfits for prior outings with Zayne was also often difficult, but moreso because you were always trying to find the line between looking cute and looking like you were trying too hard. Now that this is officially a date--which still doesn't feel real--some of those restrictions have opened up, which is proving to be both a blessing and a curse.

You want to be alluring, a little sexy, but not too revealing; sophisticated, without looking overdressed; stylish, and yet also comfortable.

You thought you'd weighed all your options prior to Thursday and landed on the perfect outfit. But as you appraise yourself in the mirror, something feels just a little bland, your eyes repeatedly drifting over to the previously rejected outfit choice left hanging on your closet door. With a resigned huff, you give in and quickly change, hoping it's the right choice.

Hoping he'll be enticed to kiss you, you think unbidden, quickly shooing the thought away. You'd spent the last several days completely stuck on if it would happen, how it would happen, what his lips would feel like, where he'd put his hands, the way he'd taste--you felt insane with how frequently the thoughts popped into your head and interrupted your day. Somewhere along the way, you'd told yourself that if you wanted it that badly that you should be the one to initiate it, but that was quickly trumped by a fear of being too aggressive: you'd been the one to ask him out and boldly sealed the deal with a kiss to the cheek already, it was best from here to give him the room to decide to take that step.

Of course, that spurred a whole slew of other worries, but you fight to keep those at bay as you continue getting ready.

Despite the fact that he isn't meant to pick you up for nearly two more hours, you move on to your hair and makeup, needing something to keep you busy to quell your nerves; it gives you more than enough time to similarly overthink every last possible styling decision. As you fret over eyeshadow colors, your phone buzzes with a few texts from Zayne.

[4:13pm] Zayne: It seems I'll be a bit late to pick you up, an emergency surgery has just come up, unfortunately [4:13pm] Zayne: I should only be about thirty minutes behind [4:14pm] Zayne: I'll update you once I'm out of the operating room

"No worries, hope everything goes well! I'll be here," You shoot back, punctuating with a bright, smiling emoji as you try not to deflate, something in your gut telling you your date won't be happening tonight.

You scroll idly on your phone as you wait on your couch, the clock ticking by. As 30 minutes becomes an hour, then two, then three, that feeling in your gut grows more concrete. You're disappointed, of course, but it wouldn't be the first time you've had to reschedule with Zayne because of his work, or even yours.

There'll be another time, you tell yourself, trying to ignore the way your heart hurts.

Just as you've reached the point of acceptance, about to change and remove your makeup, an idea hits you. With about 45 minutes until they close, you dial the restaurant you and Zayne had selected for tonight and place a pick-up order, hoping you knew his palette well enough by now to have chosen a meal he'd enjoy.

By the time you get to the restaurant, they're already packing your entrees--and desserts, of course--into a bag, utensils and all. Your car is filled with a heavenly aroma as you continue on your way, and you can't help the grin that splits your face when your phone serendipitously rings with a call from Zayne as you near the hospital.

When you pick up, it's hard to keep your bubbling excitement at bay. "Hey! Is surgery wrapped up?"

"It is." He goes quiet for a moment before nearly whispering your name, heavy with remorse, and you know what's coming. "I'm... incredibly sorry," he begins, voice weary and defeated even through the phone.

"It's okay!" You jump in quickly, hoping to stop that guilt in its tracks. "We can always try again another night." Grinning at your own little white lie, you pull into the first open space you find in Akso's parking garage, excited at the prospect of delivering him a meal after a long and difficult shift.

"So long as you'd have me..." His voice grows small.

Despite the way your heart lurches, you snort as you start gathering your things to head inside. "Do you think I wouldn't?"

"I... wouldn't want to assume after standing you up like this."

"We'll say an unexpected medical emergency falls under the umbrella of extenuating circumstances, doctor."

If he had any idea how long I've been waiting for him... He'd know another week is nothing.

He sighs again and goes quiet for a long moment, giving you the opportunity to briefly mute yourself and tell the receptionist you're there for a personal visit to Dr. Li, holding up your delivery as evidence. She gives your dressy attire a confused up and down before gesturing down the hall, and you pass with a polite smile.

"Extenuating circumstances or not... I'm still very sorry."

As you turn the corner and continue towards his office, you're pleasantly surprised to find him seated on a settee in the hall, scrubs and all, oblivious to your approach. You hang up your phone and watch as he glances at his, confused at the sudden disconnect.

"No apology necessary," you call from a little ways down, shaking the food towards him as you close the distance.

He stares agape for several moments before slowly standing to greet you, unsure. "What's all this?" The disbelief in his tone only makes your smile stretch wider.

"I figured you still needed to eat dinner," you shrug, eyes undoubtedly twinkling with delight.

A smile slowly transforms his face and he lets out a sharp breath somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. "Come on," he guides you to his office, closing the door behind you and hurrying to make space on his desk for your meal. He drags over a chair for you, close to his own.

As you unpack the food, you can feel his eyes on you, seemingly still thrown at your sudden appearance. You turn and thrust a box into his hands, meeting his gaze, pulse instantly spiking with the intensity you find there. "I got you the chicken...I hope that's okay..."

"Perfect," he says quietly, both of you frozen in place mid-exchange, and you can't stop the way your eyes drop to his lips for a split second. Your cheeks burn and you quickly turn back to your task, hoping your desperate desire to kiss him isn't painfully obvious.

The room is mostly dark save for a desk lamp casting low light, creating an ambience over your shared dinner not unlike what you would have experienced at the restaurant itself. It glints off his emerald irises that haven't stopped drinking you in. Even as he drops into his chair, food now in hand, his eyes still don't leave you.

When you finally take your own seat, you meet his gaze head on again, stomach flipping at the whisper of a smile he wears. After a beat of silence, neither of you moving to open your respective to-go boxes, you speak low. "Your food's going to get cold, doctor." You start pulling open your box without breaking the connection.

He smirks and huffs a laugh. "I suppose you're correct." He finally breaks away to open and assess his food, starting with a forkful of rice and humming in contentment. As you dig into your own food, you watch the relief that undercuts his features as he gets his fill, surely exhausted and starving after a grueling work day.

"How did the surgery go?" You ask tentatively after you've both had a moment to eat, crossing your fingers it's not the wrong question to ask.

He swallows his mouthful and takes a long drink from his bottle of water. "It was a successful operation. The patient was due for a transcatheter annuloplasty in a few weeks, however, they fell ill with pneumonia recently, which did further damage to their mitral valve and created a more urgent situation."

You nod along, having spent enough time with Zayne to recognize "transcatheter annuloplasty," recalling it as a relatively simple procedure he does fairly regularly. At least, you hope you're remembering that correctly.

"We attempted to replace the valve via minithoracotomy, but upon closer inspection, the damage was more severe than expected. Between the replacement and the extensive repairs, a full sternotomy was required."

You continue your nodding, eyes narrowed, trying to piece together what he's taught you previously in an attempt to keep up. "Sternotomy... Open-heart surgery."

It's not exactly pitched as a question, but he nods.

"And you said... mini... thoracotomy?"

He nods again, watching as the gears turn in your head.

"Is that... an incision... from the side of the ribs?"

This time, his nod is accompanied by a pleased hum and a tiny, crooked smile. "You're learning." The mixture of pride and amusement sparkling in his eyes threatens to melt your brain on the spot and you have to clear your throat to attempt to maintain some composure.

"And what does the 'mini' denote exactly?"

"Precisely what you'd expect." His smirk widens, pleased with either your question or the faint color beginning to dust your cheeks. "It's just a smaller incision, minimally invasive."

"Mini-mally invasive?" You parrot back with your own smirk, and the two of you share a laugh. "Here I thought I was learning about cardiology, but it seems I've actually been taking an etymology course."

"Mm," he hums in agreement, bringing his elbow up to his desk to lean his cheek on his knuckles. "High marks nonetheless. You're a prize pupil." His verdant gaze glints in the ambient lighting as it settles heavy on you yet again, and your heartrate immediately skyrockets.

Despite knowing it's only playful, it's still a fight not to let the praise send your stomach into a series of backflips. And gods, the way he's looking at you... You've spent years dreaming of him one day looking at you with such desire, and now to actually experience it is entirely overwhelming.

You blink rapidly and look away, trying to force back down your quickly rising flush and hide the way your breathing has grown shallow.

A charged hush falls between you as you try to calm down. When your eyes finally meet his again, the simmering appreciation you find there renders your efforts useless, heat immediately climbing back up to color your face.

"You're staring," you breathe, practically a whisper, unable to hide your shy smile.

He clears his throat and drops his gaze to the side with a slight chuckle, a flush of his own tinging the tips of his ears. "My apologies," he offers, equally as quiet, before his eyes drift back up to yours, contemplating a moment. "Is this... what you planned to wear tonight?"

You nod, heart hammering in your chest, trying not to let your smile grow fully impish knowing just how well you managed to capture his attention.

"You look..." His eyes roam your face as if he might find the word he's looking for there.

When it's clear he isn't going to continue, you can't help but tease, smirk on full display despite knowing your face must be the color of a tomato. "Well I certainly hope that sentence ends well."

His face splits into a grin, a little bashful and a lot red. "It does."

As his grin simmers into a fond smile, you both bask in the loaded silence that falls over you, brimming with newly unearthed feelings that remain yet unspoken. When he leans forward, your already-racing pulse thrums under your skin like a bird's wings, eyes once again involuntarily dropping to his lips before you're able to drag them back up.

"I was really looking forward to tonight..." He murmurs gently, regret creeping into his tone.

You know what words he's going to try to pull next.

"I truly am sor--"

"Nope, none of that!" You point a finger at him in warning. "You saved someone's life today, we still got to try this restaurant, everything is fine."

It'd be even more fine if you kissed me, your pesky little brain throws at you, which you do your best to ignore.

He huffs the smallest laugh, incredulous at your refusal of his apology, before leaning just a hair closer. "Could we try again for Monday evening?"

"Monday evening should work." You nod, biting your lip to fight back the wide grin that wants to bubble to the surface. "Assuming, of course, I don't have any emergency minithoracotomy mitral valve repairs that pop up."

He snorts and flicks your forehead as you snicker to yourself, and when your gaze refocuses on him, you realize that he's the one now staring at your lips. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip of their own volition, and you don't fail to catch the way his breath hitches. In quick succession, his eyes snap to yours and then dart away, bashful smile returning, sure from your expression that he'd been caught.

When he finally looks at you again, his voice drops low, a promise. "Monday evening."

You nod in finality, letting the moment settle back into that weighted, crackling silence until it grows stifling, making the desire to kiss him bloom into a prickling itch under your skin.

"There's dessert," you announce with a small voice, hoping to break the spell and find some reprieve. It mostly works, but neither of you looks away from the other, even as you reach blindly towards the desk for the unopened to-go containers. "Cheesecake or tiramisu?"

He hums thoughtfully at your proposal. "If I may... I think I'd like to sample both."

"I like this plan," you say with a smile, handing him the box with the cheesecake and opening up the remaining container of tiramisu. You each grab fresh utensils and take a bite of your respective treats, a quiet moan leaving you as the sweet coffee taste blooms in your mouth.

"Good?" He husks, having already swallowed his first bite.

You nod earnestly, quickly scooping up more for him to sample, but before you can plop it next to his cheesecake, he captures your wrist and brings your spoon to his lips. The heat of his skin on yours rushes straight to your core, and as you watch him savor and swallow your dessert, your mouth hangs open, completely slack-jawed. The full body flush hits you so aggressively it makes the room spin, and you almost miss the way his face develops a matching scarlet hue.

"Good?" You croak, vocal chords suddenly dryer than the cocoa powder dusted on top of your tiramisu. He licks his lips and hums, releasing your hand and a fraction of your sanity with it. Without skipping a beat, he retrieves his fork and grabs a bite of cheesecake, holding it up for you in turn.

With a shaky breath, you lean forward, placing your hand on his inner arm for stability and closing your lips around his fork. Your eyes slide shut momentarily as you try to focus on the tangy creaminess melting across your tastebuds, but when they open again, all you can focus on is the way Zayne's adam's apple bobs as he swallows hard.

When your eyes meet again, you're both evidently flustered, quick to silently bury your noses in your respective desserts as you each try to recover from such an unexpectedly overwhelming moment. You stare at your spoon, flushing all over again as you consider that it's touched Zayne's tongue.

Several minutes pass before either one of you is able to speak again, but you're the first to break the silence. "So what are we rating this one?"

It takes him a moment, blinking owlishly at you until he catches up to your question, considering a moment. "While I didn't quite finish my entree, I am looking forward to bringing home the leftovers.... Nine point five," he answers pointedly.

"Nine point five?" Your eyebrows shoot up. "That's the highest rating yet. That rates this place even higher than Cafe Buono, you've only ever given them as high as eight point nine."

"Mhm." He nods with the ghost of a smile. "I found this meal more enjoyable."

"Apparently so if we've finally reached a nine rating." You're shocked anything could outrank the reigning favorite spot for the two of you, let alone that Zayne Notoriously-Picky-About-Food-and-Restaurants Li would ever rate anything as high as a nine. But you simply shrug, just happy to know he liked it that much.

He huffs a small laugh through his nose and puts his picked-at cheesecake to the side. As you appraise his soft smile, the weariness in his features jumps out at you again and your gut twists with guilt.

"I'm keeping you from post-op reports and things at this point, aren't I?"

His shoulders sag ever so slightly, but you can't be sure if it's from disappointment or relief. "I do have reports to finish, but you're more than welcome to stay and finish eating."

Does he mean it or is he simply being polite? Regardless, you know he'd work faster and get some rest if you weren't here to invade his space.

You offer him a resigned smile and move to stand from your seat. "Finish your work, go home, and go to bed, Zayne." As he opens his mouth to surely protest, you raise a hand at him, quick to cut him off. "It's already late, and I'm sure you're going to wake up at an hour so ungodly early that even the sun thinks you're crazy, just to go for a light forty mile jog."

He laughs as you continue and the sound makes your heart flutter.

"You're supposed to get eight hours of sleep a night, ya know." You check your watch, reading 12:18 a.m., and flip your wrist to show him, other hand on your hip. "You're going to have to wake up for your run in, like, two hours from now or you're not going to be able to make it to the equator and back in time for your next shift."

He laughs again at your dramatics, nodding in resignation. "Yes, doctor. I promise I'll work on getting more sleep."

"Good," you respond, turning to close up your takeout box and clean up after your meal, not quite done with your chiding. "You're always taking care of everyone else, but rarely seem to follow your own medical advice for a healthy lifestyle."

He stands and joins you in your tidying efforts, packing up his own food. "I suppose I could try harder on that front, especially knowing someone important worries so much for my well-being."

That makes you stop in your tracks, stomach flipping. He keeps packing, seemingly unfazed by your sudden pause, but as you glance at him from the corner of your eye, you catch his soft, satisfied smile. Biting your lip, you ignore the way your blood rushes loudly in your ears and bump his shoulder with yours. "Someone important, huh?"

He bumps you back, his heavenly little smile still visible from your peripheral. "Did you think you weren't?"

"No..." Your smile widens, bordering on bashful. "But it's nice to hear it."

As the last box returns to its bag, he turns to you fully with a curt nod. "Noted," he hums in a low tone, and your stomach clenches with how utterly close he's standing.

When your eyes meet and you catch the faint scent of his sweat and cologne, your brain dissolves into a garbled string of kissmekissmekissmekissmekissme. As you fight to right the ship, blinking rapidly, you dimly realize you're leaning forward into his space--or...is he leaning into yours?

Your heartrate picks up at the realization, only to be doubled when he places his impossibly warm hand on your arm.

"Thank you... For coming all this way and bringing me dinner..." It's practically a whisper, fluttering between you just like the butterflies running rampant in your stomach. "It was exactly the medicine I needed after a day like today."

"Anything for my favorite patient..." You breathe, too lost in his spell for any of the intended wit to make its way through.

He smiles, soft and small, voice still a low husk. "I look forward to our follow-up appointment on Monday." There's a pause before he lightly squeezes your arm and drops his hand, stepping away. "For now, let's get you home."

You try not to let the disappointment show as you return his smile, offended by the temperature drop that immediately follows his retreat. He scoops up your doggie bag and, half a beat behind him, you move to grab the rest of your belongings.

The two of you walk in silence to his office door at a pace that speaks to the reluctance you seemingly both share. When he opens the door for you, you step into the hall and give him a long look.

"Y'know, at this rate, you're only going to have, like, an hour to sleep before your daily triple-marathon."

He huffs a laugh through his nose. "It wouldn't be the first time. I'll be sure to send you pictures of anything interesting I see on my way to the equator."

"Please do," you grin, reveling in the newly established inside joke. Just then Dr. Greyson pops around the corner but abruptly halts in his tracks when he catches sight of you two.

Zayne follows your gaze down the hall. "Would those be the notes from tonight's rounds?"

"Y-yes," Greyson responds, suddenly looking rather panicked. "But I can come back--"

"No need, he's all yours," you assuage before turning back to Zayne. "I relinquish you to your very important doctor duties." Suddenly serious, you jut a finger at him as Greyson joins you, charts in hand. "But you better get some rest, or else." As you turn that finger and your menacing gaze on the newly arrived doctor, he throws his hands up in surrender, round glasses slipping down his face. "I'm putting you in charge of making sure he goes home at a reasonable time tonight."

To your left, Zayne lets out a chuckle. "Putting poor Greyson on the hook for my unhealthy working habits hardly seems fair."

You arch a brow at him with a self-satisfied grin. "Ah, so you admit your working habits are unhealthy?"

Greyson lets out a snort as Zayne huffs a laugh and flicks your forehead. "That's quite enough out of the both of you." His fond smile gives him away as you and Greyson continue your joint chortling.

"I'll make sure he wraps up here soon," Greyson affirms to you with a nod.

"Thank you. I'll leave you two to it then."

Zayne starts to extend the take-out bag towards you, then seems to consider something for a heartbeat before taking a step forward. As he comes closer, he places the bag in your grasp, his other hand coming up to ghost at your elbow before he leans in to leave the lightest of pecks just above your temple. When he steps back to meet your gaze, your heart feels like it just might explode and you're sure you've gone cartoonishly red. "Thank you again," is all he says, but the crimson shade of his ears lets you know his heartrate is surely also double its normal BPM in this moment.

"Anytime, doctor," you bid, the corner of your smile tilting up before nodding to them both and stepping away. "Goodnight, you two. Don't work too hard." With a turn on your heel, you head back down the hall, feeling their eyes follow your retreat. You do your best to maintain your gait, focusing on letting your hips sway naturally as your stomach is overtaken with giddy little butterflies urging you to skip full-speed all the way home.

When you finally turn the corner out of sight, you let the face-splitting grin finally break free, which you wear with you all the way back to your car. You spend a long moment sitting behind the wheel in the quiet of the hospital's parking garage, letting the evening wash over you.

It feels largely like a dream; it was all so similar to your usual office meals, but the weight of his gaze on you all night left your heart feeling like it ran its own triple-marathon. Your eyes drift over to the bag in your passengers seat and the memory of him grasping your wrist to steal the tiramisu off your spoon flashes in your mind, turning your breaths shallow. Is it a testament to how attractive he is or a testament to how down bad you are for him that that turned you on as much as it did? Either way, you hope to god he does it again.

His 9.5 score for this new restaurant comes to your mind and you're still floored by such a high rating from him, especially for take-out that was surely going cold by the time he tasted it. Regardless, you're pleased he seemed to enjoy it so much, excited to have a new reigning favorite spot.

Until it dawns on you, his words ringing in your ears: I found this meal more enjoyable.

You only pause a moment before pulling out your phone and typing with rapid fingers.

[12:37am] Me: 9.85 rating [12:37am] Me: But I suspect wherever we eat on Monday night will be a 10/10

---------------------------------------------------

The two doctors watched in silence as you left down the long corridor, Zayne lost in his lovesick thoughts and Greyson weighing how well it would go over to ask when the two of you (finally!) elevated your relationship.

Nosiness got the better of him as you got far enough outside of earshot, and with a push of his glasses up his nose, he cleared his throat to broach the subject. "She seemed awfully dressed up. Was there a special occasion this evening?"

Zayne wistfully pulled his gaze from where you disappeared to meet the eyes of his colleague, amused by the very obvious curiosity he found burning there. "She brought me a post-op dinner." His smile grew as confusion pinched Greyson's brows upwards, letting it hang there until he decided to mercifully indulge him. "We were supposed to have our first date tonight."

Greyson's eyes went as round as his spectacles at the news, blinking owlishly back at the dark-haired doctor for several moments before finally finding his voice. "Well it's about time."

Now it was Zayne's turn to blink in a daze, attempting not to sputter. "What was that?"

"Yvonne and I were wondering when you two would finally act on it, it's been months!" Greyson chuckled.

Zayne continued to blink at him. "Am I to understand... You and Yvonne have been keeping tabs on my love life?"

"Wellll," he started, growing a little sheepish. "It wasn't on purpose at first, it was just impossible not to notice that you two obviously had feelings for each other. We've just been curious about how long it would finally take you guys to do anything about it."

Zayne continued staring as he considered his words long and hard. "Obvious, hm?"

Greyson nodded, glasses slipping down his nose again. "Obvious enough that I figured after five or six months that it had to be for some kind of reason, an Association rule or something, and it would just never happen." He decidedly avoided mentioning his real theory: that it was a moral dilemma for Zayne. "That reminds me... I guess I owe Yvonne $20..."

"You were betting on my love life?" Zayne arched a brow, the ghost of a smirk playing at his lips.

"Uh, well," Greyson stammered, trying to figure out how to dig himself out of this hole. "She was just so sure that, even if there was something in the way, you guys would figure things out eventually. And, uh... It seems like she was right, after all!"

"Mm," Zayne hummed thoughtfully. "Too bad we never made it to our date."

Confusion followed by realization dawned across Greyson's features. "Oh, no, you had to cancel because of the surgery..."

"Unfortunately, yes. And I was unable to text her until we were out of the operating room."

"Did she think you stood her up on your first date?" For the second time, Greyson's eyes went as round as his glasses, this time in horror.

"Thankfully, no, she was... Incredibly understanding." Zayne smiled to himself, letting his eyes drift to the side as he recalled the way his insides clenched when he saw you marching down the hallway looking positively ethereal; he was so sure his own mind must have conjured up a hallucination out of sheer exhaustion and despair, until you'd gotten close enough that he could smell the intoxicating food and your even more intoxicating perfume. "We rescheduled to Monday night."

"Oh!" Greyson clasped his hands together excitedly. "That's great! And if anything comes up on Monday, I've got it handled, I'll make sure you get out of here on time this time."

"That's much appreciated, thank you." Zayne smiled, pausing when he felt his phone vibrate in his breast pocket. The moment he read your messages, that smile returned to his face, pleased you seemed to catch up to his earlier meaning.

[12:38am] Zayne: I suspect the same [12:39am] Zayne: Greyson told me he'd be sure to handle any emergencies that may come up Monday to ensure I can make it on time this time around.

[12:39am] Me: Oh that's sweet, tell him I appreciate him for helping me secure Zayne time [12:40am] Me: and I'm pretty sure that makes him your wingman [12:40am] Me: or maybe mine

He chuckled as your messages came through, tilting his phone for Greyson to read.

"Happy to be of service," he chuckled in tandem with a mock salute.

"I won't tell her that you were betting we wouldn't get together." Zayne chuckled as Greyson rubbed his neck, instantly growing sheepish. "Now shall we look over these charts?"

post a/n: I'm sorry this is so long and so little happens LOL I promise they will actually go on their date in the next part. The next part also closely follows Heart Within Reach, so glad that we finally got that rerun!

I did my best to comb through likes and messages on the last part for those that wanted to be tagged when this part came out. If you were missed, I'm very sorry!

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