initiating connection was huge for her, a means to share the surge of joy and energy, transferring it to whoever she was making contact with. a high-five after an absolutely intense save that has her heart pulsing so hard she can taste it, or a soft touch of fingertips to a patient's loved one's wrist to show she was compassionate, too. she was there. whatever they were feeling, she was trying to feel too, and vice versa.
the line was blurry when it came to dr. langdon, though.
there was something about him, his kindness, his attentiveness, the ease she felt when they communicated, how effortlessly they moved together like their brains had been in sync from the moment they first spoke. the way her skin buzzed in his presence, like something about the way he looked at her electrified every atom in her body.
and when he left, mel felt his absence more than most. turning every corner of the hospital hoping he'd appear, that she'd hear his rumbly laugh echo from a patient room or his sharp, focused bark as he led a group in the trauma bay. the heaviness didn't go away, her skin felt cold, something settling that made her uneasy.
her movements were robotic. running through the motions. trying her best to smile and be present. her deposition, hanging over her like a gloomy, grey cloud promising nothing but despair. her sister, avoidant and vague.
but she saw him and something ignited. similar to the day they'd met but tenfold, like fireworks exploding hot and sudden in her chest. excitement uncontained, the room a blur of hospital white and overlapping chatter, her sneakers squeaking on the vinyl floors, desperate to share her enthusiasm with the cause of it.
her brain had snagged inches from his broad frame, arms wide, ready to collapse in his chest and let her heart speak to his but he hadn't been paying much attention, so she pivoted. something safer. grabbing him by the bicep, mildly startling him, her grin a mile-wide.
he came back. she knew he would.
most of the day was a blur but dr. langdon was a bright, consistent part of it. talking her down, slowing her frenzied thoughts, and in turn she'd done the very same after robby had stomped all over his confidence. in front of their colleagues, no less.
when he found her outside for the second time, the sky dark and navy, peppered in bright continuous pops of color, he apologized. he checked in. he stood there with her as if there was nowhere else he'd rather be.
his hands were still shaking, he'd said. he held one out, beneath the dim lights of the ambulance bay and the fireworks exploding above, mel could see the slight tremor of his fingers. the way his veins danced beneath his skin, still rattled with adrenaline from the procedure he'd miraculously pulled off a while before.
mel wanted to feel it, too.
before her mind could protest, she let her fingertips ghost over his wrist first, then the back of his hand, noting the thick veins that flexed from her featherlight touch. his knuckles, his middle finger that seemed the jumpiest, and then his hand went still. as if mel had sucked the thrill right out of him for herself.
the humming beneath her skin returned; her blood rushing and rushing, her heart full, her mind at ease.
her palm curled around his fingers, prolonging their contact. her eyes found the sky, her breaths became even, and their clapsed hands fell between them.
"don't leave," she said, her voice a soft rasp. "please, not again."
earlier, when she'd found him in the breakroom, she'd said something similar. not quite with so much emotion but the sentiment was the same. she needed him. in some way, for some reason, he made her feel alive. important. focused. aware of herself.
she could hear him swallow. felt his eyes burning into the side of her head. then, he squeezed her hand. "i won't leave you, mel."
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