alyssa

Letters exchanged between the Prince and Princess (Age 6), slipped beneath chamber doors in King’s Landing; 122AC

Jace,

I knocked on your door but you didn’t answer

Do you want to go see the dragons later? Aegon says there are new babies

I have Valyrian lessons before dinner. Put your reply under my door like I did with this one

Y/N

Y/N,

Yes, I do want to see the dragons very much. Mother says the new babies are very small though so we should be careful

Maybe one of the new dragons will be yours!

Meet me after dinner outside your room

I hope your Valyrian lesson goes well!

Jace

Letters exchanged between the Prince and Princess (age 7), slipped beneath chamber doors in King’s Landing; 123AC

JACE

You will never believe what happened- I claimed a dragon!

Father finally agreed to let me visit the unclaimed dragons in the dragonpit. Uncle Daemon came with me

She is so pretty, Jace. Her name is Silverwing- because her wings sparkle like silver! And she is huge!

Please write back as soon as you get this. Your mother said you were at training this afternoon

Y/N

Y/N

Are you serious? You actually claimed a dragon? A full grown one?

That is amazing! Vermax will be happy to have a friend to fly with once he is big enough

I knocked on your door, but the Septa said you were gone back to the dragonpit with Daemon

I'll see you at dinner. I can't wait to hear about Silverwing

Jace

An exchange of letters between the Prince and Princess (age 10) following the movement of Princess Rhaenyra’s household to Dragonstone; 126AC

Jace,

It has been a week since you and your family left for Dragonstone. The castle is quiet, and I spend a lot of time with Helaena now. We went to the Godswood earlier, and I helped her collect new bugs for her collection.

I love my sister, but I miss you. And Luke and Joffrey.

I hope Dragonstone is as beautiful as you hoped it would be, and I hope Vermax loves flying above the castle and over the cliffs.

I was very sorry to hear of the passing of your Aunt Laena. My family will be going to Driftmark soon for the funeral, and father says you will be there too.

I know it has only been a week, but I will be glad to see you. I hope the weight of your loss does not feel too heavy.

Sincerely,

Y/N

P.S: Tell Luke he left one of his wooden dragons here. It was in my chambers. I will return it to him when I see you all at Driftmark

Y/N,

I am glad you wrote. I miss you a lot, Joffrey has already asked about you many times. I had to tell him you had to stay in King’s Landing. I think he understands, but he does miss you- not as much as I do though.

Dragonstone is very beautiful. There are white sand beaches at the bottom of the cliffs, and the horizon stretches for miles. Vermax loves the freedom- im surprised you haven’t heard his happy cries from King’s Landing.

But it is still empty here. I keep waiting to hear your laugh around corners, or to see Silverwing flying over the coast with Vermax.

Aunt Laena’s death was very sad. I did not know her very well, but my mother and father are very upset. I feel sad for Baela and Rhaena- we will have to do something to cheer them up when we all arrive at Driftmark.

I will be glad to see you too. A week has already felt like too long. You make things feel easier.

Sincerely,

Jacaerys

P.S: Luke says he left it with you on purpose. Keep it.

Letters exchanged between the Prince and Princess (age 10) following the death of Ser Laenor Velaryon; 126AC

Jace,

Are you alright?

My family and I received word of Ser Laenor on our trip back to King’s Landing. I wish I had known sooner- I would have begged to stay with you at Driftmark.

I did not know your father well, but he was always kind. He would say hello to me whenever our families met, and when we were little he always called me Princess like some noble knight from fairytales.

I have prayed for you and your brothers and your mother every day since hearing the news. I prayed for your father, too- that he may find rest and peace.

I know that does not make your pain go away, but I wanted you to know.

If there is anything you need from me, say the word. I will fly Silverwing to Dragonstone myself. Father says I’m not old enough to fly her yet, but now that Aemond has stolen Vhagar I’m afraid he can’t hold that argument anymore.

Sending you love,

Y/N

Y/N

I am glad to hear from you. Even just reading your letter has made the grief feel easier.

Losing my father has been difficult, but I’ve had to stay strong- for Luke and Joffrey, and for mother. Luke is beside himself, Joff is still a little too young to understand. Mother grieves in her own way- she’s been quiet, almost distant.

She plans to remarry Daemon now. She claims it will help our family battle the rumours about my brothers and I. I told her I don’t care about the rumours, but she just wants to make things easier for us. What happened at Driftmark has weighed on us all.

Thank you for your prayers. Though I am not sure the gods will hear you, but I appreciate the effort. I too hope that my father finds rest and peace. He is with Aunt Laena now.

As for Silverwing, your father doesn’t have a leg to stand on with that argument. You’ve been ready to fly for years, but there’s no way he can stop you now the Aemond has Vhagar- it wouldn’t be fair.

I miss you, Y/N. I hope our families reunite again soon.

Love,

Jace

Letters exchanged between the Prince and Princess (age 13); 129AC

Jacaerys,

I have wonderful news! I suspect your mother may have received word already, but I wanted to share it with you myself even if you already know.

Father has agreed to let me come to Dragonstone as a ward to your mother! My mother is not happy about it, but I think my father has been attempting to restore peace between our families since that night at Driftmark all those years ago.

He mentioned to me once that Rhaenyra proposed a betrothal between you and I when we were only children, to strengthen the bond between our houses. My mother refused it, but father still thinks about it. He thinks it is a splendid idea, and I suspect it is why he betrothed Aegon to Helaena instead of me.

It would be nice, I think. If we were betrothed.

I have always been worried about being married off to some stuffy old lord in a castle somewhere, but it doesn't seem so bad when the stuffy old lord is you instead. We would be together all the time, and we could fly Vermax and Silverwing together whenever we wanted.

It sounds a bit like a dream.

Anyway, enough about betrothals and dreams. I shall be arriving at Dragonstone by the turn of the next moon. Father says I will only stay for a year, but I suspect I can convince him to let me stay longer.

I shall see you soon. I suspect you will hear Silverwing before you see us- she has been missing you and Vermax immensely, I think.

Love,

Y/N

Y/N

Mother told us about the news, but I am glad to hear it from you. We are all very happy- Luke nearly jumped from his seat, and I think Joffrey may have cried.

But none are so happy as I am. To spend a whole year with you, here on Dragonstone? That is what sounds like a dream. I can't wait to show you everything- the beaches, the cliffs, the Dragonmont.

You will love it here. I know you will. And I know we can convince my grandsire to let you stay longer.

As for betrothals, I agree. I think being betrothed to you would be very nice. My mother speaks about it often- she is quite protective over you. I think she wants to see her sister happy as much as her son, and she doesn't want to see you shipped off to some 'stuffy old lord' like Tyland Lannister.

I know a lot of people marry for alliance or power, but my mother and father still truly loved each other. They were husband and wife, but they were also friends beneath it all. Our house was always happy growing up. I think I would like to have something like that someday.

I think that's what it would feel like if we were married- a partnership rather than a duty. I think we would be very happy.

My mother talks all the time about how I will be King some day after her. The idea terrifies me- having to sit the Iron Throne, rule the Seven Kingdoms. I don't know if I will be much good at it, but as I think about it now it does not seem so daunting a task if you were by my side.

I will be the King someday. And you will be my Queen.

I cannot wait to see you at Dragonstone. Vermax and I will be waiting for you.

Love,

Jace

Letters exchanged between the Prince and Princess (age 15) following the Princess' return to King's Landing; 131AC

My dearest Jace,

It has only been a week since I returned to King's Landing, and already I miss you more than I know how to describe.

I wish my father had not had to call me home from Dragonstone, but alas I suppose we already had more time than he initially gave us.

He has not been feeling himself as of late. I pray it is nothing serious, and that it passes without issue. My mother assures me that all is well, that I have nothing to worry about.

But of course I worry. I always do.

I worry about Father. I worry about Helaena- her marriage to Aegon has been trying, to say the least. The twins, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, are lovely though- they have grown so much since I left for Dragonstone, and I have been helping take care of them since returning just to have an excuse to see them.

I worry about you too. And Luke, and Joffrey. Not for any reason in particular, I think it is just in my nature to worry about those I love.

I hope things are going well on Dragonstone. If I think hard enough, I can still feel the spray of the sea on my face, the wind in my hair at the edge of the cliffs, and your hand in mine. Your hands are always so much colder than mine.

I hope to see you again soon,

Love,

Your Y/N

My sweet Y/N,

This week without you has felt like a weight on my chest, but receiving this letter has given me some reprieve to breathe again.

I miss you like the moon misses the sun.

I am glad the twins are doing well, and I hope Helaena is too. She is a saint for putting up with Aegon the ways she must.

I am sorry to hear of the King's illness. I'm sure he will recover quickly, as he always has. But of course you will worry, it is how you are.

Empathetic. Kind. Good.

I could continue describing you, but I'm afraid this letter would be too long to send by raven by the time I was finished.

You do not have to worry about me or my brothers, I assure you, sweet girl. Things at Dragonstone are well- peaceful, though your absence is certainly felt. But we are all well, and all safe.

When I visit the cliffs, or the beach, I can still feel your presence in the air. The wind whistles in the distinct tone of your laugh, and the grass seems to bend around feet that are no longer there.

My hands feel colder without yours to warm them.

But we will see each other again soon, I assure you. And I shall be counting the days until then.

Love,

Your Jace

Letters exchanged between the Prince and Princess (age 16); Early 132AC

Jace,

Things are growing troubling in King’s Landing. I find myself fearful for the months ahead.

Father’s illness is progressing fast

There are whispers, here in the Keep. That my grandfather, father’s Hand, wishes to challenge your mother’s claim to the throne when the Stranger comes for him.

This is absurdity, as your mother’s claim has been reinstated by my father many times since Aegon’s birth.

But alas- the idea of a woman in power will always frighten a man, I suppose

I don’t speak much to anyone these days. Helaena is busy with the children, and lord knows Aegon and Aemond are horrible company. My mother spends most of her days by my father’s bedside.

I have spent much time in the Godswood lately. Did you know that many people in the North still pray to the Old Gods? It is different than our prayers to the Seven, but lately I find myself praying to any gods that will listen that peace remains, and that my father does not suffer.

I hope Dragonstone is serving you well. I would love to see you soon, but a part of me hopes I do not- because I fear the next time I see you will be father’s funeral.

These next few months will be trying, but I hold on to my strength as I know you would tell me to if you were here.

I miss you terribly, Jace. I wish you were here.

Love,

Y/N

Y/N,

It pains me to hear of your suffering in the Capitol. I hope Helaena is well- I cannot imagine having to care for children at our age (especially children of Aegon’s.)

I hate that you cannot be here at Dragonstone, with us. The air feels heavier here since you left, the halls quieter without your laugh.

The news of the King has reached us. My mother is not handling it well, and Daemon pretends to but I can tell he is upset about his brother. I am upset too. My grandsire is always kind to my brothers and I, even when others do not think to be.

Your talk of the Old Gods intrigues me. Perhaps the next time I see you, you can teach me how to pray to them. Maybe someday we can fly North, on Vermax and Silverwing, to pray in front of a real weirwood tree if we find the Old Gods kinder than our Seven.

But sometimes I think that not even the Gods can make death feel kinder.

The whispers you have been hearing about your grandsire, the Hand of the King, reek of treason. You have nothing to worry about, sweet girl- your grandsire has made questionable choices in the past, but I suspect even he is not silly enough to move against the King.

I wish I could be there, or you here, but you are also correct- I hope that our next meeting is prolonged so that you have more time with your dear father.

Losing a father is not easy, and I wish you never have to bear the sorrow, my love.

Until we see each other again,

Your Jace

A letter from the Princess to the Prince (age 16); written in haste, unanswered; 132AC

J,

The King is dead. My grandsire and mother move to instate Aegon as King. Your mother’s claim is in danger

Everything is chaos. I’m scared.

I miss my father, and I miss you.

[your initial]

Letters exchanged between the Prince and Princess (age 16) following the coronation of King Aegon II; 132AC

Y/N,

Please tell me you are alright. Your last letter frightened me. I am sorry I could not reply. Dragonstone has been thrust into chaos, and my mother temporarily stopped all communication leaving the castle, until our household had proven its loyalty.

I sent this letter to one of our trusted allies within the Keep in hopes that it will reach you well. If you are able to respond, bring your letter back to him. He will ensure it reaches me safely.

I wish I could be there with you, to hold you through the pain of losing your father. I miss him too. Everyone here does. He was good, and he would hate every second of the violence that has been raised in his passing.

I know that you are alive, because Rhaenys tells me she saw you on the dais at Aegon's coronation, when she escaped on Meleys. I hope you know I do not blame you. The schemes and deceit of your family are not yours, and I have made sure everyone knows it.

Are you safe, in the Keep? I will never ask you to spy on your family, I just need to know that you are safe there. If I have to, I will fly to King's Landing on Vermax myself to rescue you.

I fear this war will try its hardest to drive a wedge between us. I promise you I will not let it happen, my love.

Write back as soon as you can,

Jacaerys

Jacaerys,

I am so relieved to hear from you. I feared you may think me a traitor like the rest of my family. I think I could not bear it if you did.

Helaena and I are safe. I've taken to spending most of my time with her and the children. They are a welcome distraction, a beacon of peace and hope in these troubling times.

I am glad that Rhaenys made it safely to Dragonstone. I was not aware that she was being held here- I think my family distrusts me because they know of my fondness for you.

The pain of losing my father has not quite sunk in yet, I don't think. My grief has been stolen from me by this needless violence. Instead of mourning the man who raised me, I instead have to fear every day for the lives of my sisters and friends.

Please tell Rhaenyra that not everyone in the Keep is against her. My support may not mean much, but I want her to know she has it. If there is anything I can do from this side, I will.

I need no rescuing yet, but I do not doubt for a second that you would come running if I did. You always seem to know when I need you.

I pray this violence ends soon, and that the succession can be restored without further bloodshed, and that you and I can be together again.

I will try to write as often as I can, but in case I am stopped, know that I love you, Jacaerys.

Y/N

Letters exchanged between the Princess and the Prince (age 16) following the death of Prince Lucerys Velaryon (age 14); attached to a wooden dragon figurine; 132AC

Jace,

Oh Jace.

I don’t even know what to say. I’m sorry feels insignificant, but they are the only words I can muster right now.

I have spent the last few days in agony- I cannot imagine how you must be feeling. I wish I was there with you, to give you a shoulder to cry on, a safe place to land.

I attempted to flee King’s Landing on Silverwing the second I heard the news, to fly to Dragonstone to be with you, but my mother guards me night and day. She fears for my safety, but she fails to realize that I would be safer with you than anywhere else in the Seven Kingdoms

This war is needless and cruel, and has gone on too long. I have begged my family to see reason- my brother, my mother, my grandsire. I beg for peace, for this ceaseless bloodshed to end before it takes any more innocent souls with it.

Because that is what Luke was- an innocent soul. He was so good. So kind. Too kind to have been touched by war and cruelty in the ways he was.

I cannot stomach to look at Aemond. I’m not sure I will ever be able to again.

Lucerys loved you so much, Jace. He looked up to you, wanted to be just like you. When we were little, he would always tell me stories about you, and he had a way of making the simplest actions of yours out to be the acts of a noble knight in shining armour.

He was the best of us. I will carry him with me in everything I do, as I know you will.

You do not have to respond to this if it feels too much. I understand. I simply wanted you to know that I am here for you, and that I share in your grief.

I will see you soon, and when I do I will hold you tight until the grief feels an ounce more bearable.

We have already lost too much in this war. I pray we do not lose anything else.

My love is with you always,

Y/N

Y/N

I’m sorry it has taken me so long to reply to your letter. The weeks since the incident have been difficult, and in truth I could not bring myself to read your words until days after the raven arrived.

And yet, in the time it took me to reply, the war has claimed its next casualty.

I have not stopped thinking about you and Helaena since the news of little Jaehaerys arrived. Mother is furious at Daemon, and beside herself that the child was murdered in the name of her cause.

This was not her order. That you have to know.

Give Helaena my love, but mostly I am worried about you. You have suffered so much loss in the small amount of time since this war began.

Losing Lucerys is a pain I don’t think I am ready to talk about yet. I’m unsure if I ever will be, but if such a day comes, I will come to you- like I always do.

I wish you could be here. I wish we could comfort each other through these days of war and bloodshed. I often think about what it would be like, to leave the war room at the end of a day of meetings and sit with you by the hearth.

The thought brings me a sliver of peace and light in these, the darkest days.

If Silverwing wishes to fly, and your mother’s guards fancy a nap, you would always be welcome here at Dragonstone.

Think about it.

In case something were to happen, now that this war has become what it is now, I need you to know that I love you too.

I love you every single day, even when we are apart, my sweet girl.

We will be together again soon.

Your Jace

A letter written from the Princess to the Prince (age 16) following the Battle of the Gullet; tear-stained parchment, unanswered; 132AC

My dearest Jacaerys,

Tell me it isn’t true.

Messengers arrived at the Red Keep saying that the Velaryon fleet battled the Triarchy at the Gullet, and that they were joined by dragonriders. The account says a bronze-scaled dragon sunk into the sea with its rider.

Tell me it isn’t true. Write to me and tell me that you are alive, that it was not Vermax these witnesses watched sink below the waves.

You stupid, stupid boy. You foolish idiot of a man.

This is not how this is supposed to go. Not how it is supposed to end. This war is supposed to end, not rage on and take you with it.

We are supposed to have our second chance. Our families finally no longer feuding, our mothers some semblance of friends again.

We would be betrothed, or we would simply force them to betroth us if they still refused. We would be wed, happy like your mother and father were, like we talked about all those years ago.

We are supposed to have time, Jacaerys. We are supposed to watch this war end, watch your mother take her throne. We are supposed to be here, again, where it all began- running through the gardens like when we were six, only now the weight of the crown weighs a little heavier on us.

You are supposed to be King someday. And I am supposed to be your Queen.

First Father. Then Luke. Now you.

Tell me it isn’t true. Please write back as soon as you can.

Love,

Y/N

A letter written from the Princess (age 16) to the Late Prince from the Red Keep; unsent; Late 132AC

My dearest Jacaerys,

I don’t know why I’m writing this.

Perhaps because I am painfully alone now, and you were the only one it felt like truly understood me.

So much has happened since you left us left me.

Everyone is gone, Jace.

Helaena is dead. Aemond. Joffrey. Daemon. Aegon. Your mother.

All of them- gone.

Silverwing is gone, too. All of the dragons are gone now. It was a horrible thing that I do not wish to relive for the rest of my days- but I miss her so deeply it aches in my bones.

I can only hope, at least, that she and Vermax have been reunited.

There are only three surviving members of House Targaryen now- Jahaera, your brother Aegon, and me.

The once mighty House of the Dragon, reduced to this.

Aegon will take the throne, though he is only a child. Jahaera will be wed to him, though she is only a child.

They wanted me to marry Aegon instead, to rule as the Queen Regent until he is old enough to sit the throne himself. I refused, so sweet Jahaera was put in my place.

Her care has been entrusted mostly to me for now, but every time I look upon her all I see is my sweet sister Helaena. I wonder if her death was painful, or if in her last moments as she fell from the window she finally felt free- free from this cage we learned to call home, from this senseless war started by fearful men who thought they knew better.

I wonder if you felt the same. I wonder, selfishly, if you thought of me in your final moments.

The Red Keep is full of ghosts now. Everywhere I turn, there is a memory of someone who no longer walks this earth.

I don’t know what will happen to me now that I have refused to marry Aegon. There are whispers that the small council wishes to marry me to Lord Cregan Stark, as an acknowledgement of his help in ending this war. I would become the Lady of Winterfell.

A part of me thinks that wouldn’t be so bad. Cregan Stark is kind. I met him after the war had ended.

My first thought was that you and him would get on well. I was both pleased and heartbroken to find out that he had gotten the chance to meet you, before everything, and that he thought you a brother.

We spoke of you at length. It felt nice, to have someone to talk to about you, who understood your goodness instead of just seeing you as the enemy’s son or bringing up the rumours that were spewed about you.

I would also have to go North if I marry him, which means I would never have to see the walls of this castle again, the ones that have haunted me so in the years since this war began. A part of me thinks maybe that is for the best.

But the other part of me wishes never to leave, because leaving may mean forgetting.

Leaving means not being able to walk through the Godswood and remember your laugh as we chased each other between the trees.

Leaving means not being able to walk past the rubble of the Dragonpit and remember two tiny figures sneaking in through the darkness, or the distant sounds of Vermax and Silverwing inside.

Leaving means not being able to see your face in every corner of this castle anymore.

But I also know that I will carry you with me in my heart for the rest of my days.

Even if I do marry Cregan Stark, my heart will always belong to the boy who snuck me lemon cakes from the kitchens when we were seven, or who slipped letters under my door just because he thought it was fun.

My heart will always belong to you, Jacaerys Velaryon. And my memories of you will never fade, no matter where in this kingdom I go.

Until we meet again,

Your Y/N

A letter written from the Princess (age 19) to the Late Prince from the halls of Winterfell; unsent; 135AC

My dearest Jacaerys,

It is the first moment of reprieve I have had in days, and of course the first thing I think to do is write to you, even though you will never read it.

I try not to think too much about that part.

So much has happened since I last wrote to you, but I fear I do not wish to talk about the crown anymore.

It has been three years since I left King’s Landing. The small council decided that the North was too valuable an ally to pass up, so the union between myself and Lord Cregan Stark was written.

I was scared, in truth, to leave King’s Landing. It was the only home I had ever known, but by the end it didn’t feel much like home anymore.

Nowhere really feels like home anymore, not without you, but Winterfell is the closest I think I will ever have now.

It is very beautiful here, in a different way than King’s Landing. The North is quiet, but never uncomfortable or eerie. I feel like I can breathe easier up here.

The snow is more beautiful than I ever imagined. It covers everything all of the time. It took a long time to get used to the cold and the fur cloaks, but I find a certain comfort in them now.

I also find a certain comfort in knowing you walked these halls once. Winterfell is not haunted with ghosts as the Red Keep was, but I can feel your presence around me if I search for it.

On my second day here, Cregan showed me the Godswood. It is almost ethereal, and the white snow and the white bark make the crimson leaves of the weirwood trees seem to glow.

I remember, long ago, you and I spoke about the Old Gods, and how we would ride North when the war was over to pray beneath a real weirwood tree.

I pray to the Old Gods much more now. Sometimes with Cregan, sometimes alone. It took me months to be able to do it without crying.

Cregan is a lovely husband. He understands me- not like you did, but in a way a friend would. In many ways, that is what he feels like- a friend. I know he feels the same.

It is nice, just like we thought it would be. To be married to someone who feels like a friend rather than a husband. He understands that a part of my heart will always belong to another, but he loves me anyway. And I understand the same about him- that a part of him will always belong to the wife he buried.

And I have grown to love him, in the ways I can- in the ways I have not been scorned by loss or war.

We have both known tragedy. It makes it easier, to accept the weight the other carries. We both understand a semblance of the grief the other bears, and we help them bear it the best we can.

I trust him, and he trusts me. We talk about everything and nothing. Sometimes I wonder if he ever runs out of things to talk about.

I wonder if you thought that about him too, when you met him. I suspect you did- you were always horrible at small talk.

Cregan and I exist most days as each other’s most trusted friend. But duty is duty, of course.

I’m writing this letter with my son cradled in my lap, sleeping against my chest. He is two years old now, and the future Lord of Winterfell.

He looks every bit a Stark, to the point where I may doubt my own involvement in his creation if I had not carried him for nine months.

But his name? Cregan and I agreed that there was only one name to call our son.

His name is Jacaerys. Jacaerys Brandon Stark.

I wish he could have been born with a dragon’s egg in his cradle, but I suspect he will not need a dragon to grow just as fierce as his ancestors.

I will tell him every day- of the strong queen Rhaenyra who never gave up fighting for what was right, of my sweet sister Helaena who kept her kindness even when the world was not kind to her. I will tell him about times when dragons ruled the skies, about how the wind felt whipping through my hair while soaring above Dragonstone with Silverwing, what the dragons sounded like when they were happy.

And I will tell him about his namesake- the bravest Prince there ever was, who would lay down his own life to protect those he loved.

I miss you every day. I don’t believe a day will come when I do not.

My daughter has started crying from her cradle, which I suppose is a sign to end this letter. She is only three days old and already causing trouble- a true Targaryen.

I wish you could know them, Jace. I hope that somewhere, maybe you’re watching, smiling down on us from somewhere better- somewhere that never felt the cold grasp of war.

I will join you there some day, on the other side. But for now, I have children to love, and many stories to tell them.

That is enough.

Forever yours,

After that night at the bar, you and Cassie were closer than ever- literally and metaphorically.

She may have spent that night at your apartment, and you two may have shown up to work a little late the next day, and if anyone saw you wince when you sat down the wrong way at the nurses' station? No they didn't.

But despite it all, you couldn't really bring yourself to care about any of that- because Cassie McKay was your girlfriend. She had whispered it to you in the dark of the night, when you were both still breathing a little heavier and your bodies still buzzed in the aftermath. She had pressed her lips to your temple, and then your cheek, and then the corner of your mouth.

And then she had whispered those words that made your heart want to jump out of your chest and latch onto her and never let go.

"Be mine."

Two words- so simple, yet you still felt your breath catch in your chest when she said them, her breath ghosting over your lips in a way that made your head spin. You barely had to think about your response before the words were falling from your lips.

"I've been yours since the day we met."

You two tried to keep your relationship largely under wraps at work, you really did, but there was just no hiding some things.

Cassie looked at you like you were the most precious thing in her universe- and you looked right back at her the same way.

She brought you coffee in the mornings, because she quickly learned you couldn’t function without it. She forced you to eat in the break room when she noticed your balance wobbling slightly during a busy shift. You slipped silly notes into each other's lockers like you were kids in high school, and when you'd catch her eye across the ED she'd wink at you in a way that made you want to kick your feet and giggle.

You had never been happier. How could you be? You had Cassie McKay, the woman of your dreams- literally. She had literally been haunting your dreams since the day you met her.

But there was still just one teeny, tiny thing that had been eating away at the back of your mind- you still hadn’t met Harrison.

And that was totally fine. You and Cassie had talked about it, and you understood completely. Cassie hadn’t dated since the divorce, and Harrison was old enough to have opinions now. She wasn’t sure how he’d react to his mom having a new partner- especially a girlfriend.

“I just... need us both to be certain about this before we take that step,” she had said one night that she spent at your apartment, your head on her chest as she brushed her fingers through your hair.

You both already knew you were certain about this, but it had only been a few weeks after all. And that was just how Cassie was- always cautious, especially when it came to her son. It was one of the things you loved most about her.

You told her it was fine, that you would be happy to meet Harrison whenever she was ready for you to, and she had smiled and kissed your head and told you “soon”.

Soon.

Soon?

You had smiled back, and cuddled yourself closer to her chest, but on the inside? You were panicking. Badly.

Because the truth was that the thought of meeting Harrison terrified you. Yes, you were terrified of an eleven year old boy you had never met.

It was irrational, you knew, but he was your girlfriend’s son. He was the most important person in Cassie’s life by a landslide. She talked about him non-stop, had showed you probably every photo of him she'd ever taken (twice), and every time his name was brought up you watched her face light up in the most beautiful way that you had never seen before.

And if Harrison didn’t approve of you? You were toast. Done for.

How could you even look Cassie in the eye anymore if her son hated you? You simply couldn't. She'd break up with you, and you'd be forced to quit your job to avoid ever having to face her again and probably flee the country, too- just in case.

But you pushed those fears out of your mind- because meeting Harrison wasn’t something you had to worry about yet. Cassie had said soon, but you knew how careful she was.

You would have plenty of time to prepare yourself to eventually impress your girlfriend’s eleven year old.

Or so you thought.

Three days after that conversation, you and Cassie were back at work. It was a moderately busy day at the Pitt- summer days always came with an influx of sunburns, heat stroke, a heart attack or two just to keep you on your toes.

You had been sitting at the nurses’ station, helping Trinity catch up on her charting while there was a brief lull in patients, when you noticed Cassie.

You always noticed Cassie, but this time she was hard to miss- she flew out of a patient's room in the North corridor with a concerned expression on her face and her phone pressed to her ear.

You knew that look. That was a call about Harrison.

She stormed into the break room without a word, pulling the door shut behind her.

“What’s wrong with her?” Trinity asked, raising an eyebrow as she turned her gaze toward you, as if she expected you to know. You simply responded with a shrug.

“Beats me,” you replied, eyes still lingering on the break room door. “But it looks like probably something to do with Harrison. It’s supposed to be his weekend with her, she’s picking him up from Chad’s after work.”

You knew the schedule, and Cassie had told you well in advance that Harrison would be with her for the weekend- meaning you wouldn’t see her as much outside of work.

“Shit. She looks pretty concerned.”

“She’s always concerned when it comes to him.”

Cassie was on the phone in the break room for exactly 7 minutes before she emerged with a less concerned and more defeated look on her face.

Her eyes glanced around the department, before finally landing on you- sitting at the Nurses' Station with Trinity, already giving her that look of concern that made your forehead crease just slightly in between your eyebrows.

She made her way to you, bracing her hands on your desk as she blew out an exasperated huff.

"I'm gonna kill him."

"...Harrison?"

"No, Chad."

Because of course it had been Chad on the phone- you should have known by the way she scowled at the sound of his voice as she had slammed the break room door behind her.

"What'd he do this time?" You asked, fingers typing away at your keyboard as you glanced up at her, offering a sympathetic look.

"Him and Chloe decided their little weekend getaway needs to start sooner," Cassie pinched the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes shut.

"They're dropping him off here with me at five."

Your fingers froze.

Harrison was coming here? To the Pitt? Two hours before you and Cassie's shifts ended?

Oh my god. You were going to have to spend two hours in proximity to her son.

You were not prepared for this.

You didn't have nearly enough time to study up on Gen Alpha slang. Your TikTok algorithm was a mess- perfect for you, of course, but it gave you zero insight about what eleven year olds found funny. You still didn't even fully understand what 6 7 meant. Was Harrison too young to know that one? Or maybe he was too old- you had no idea.

"Harrison's coming here?" You asked, unable to disguise the way your voice pitched up ever so slightly. "They're... bringing him here?"

"Yeah," Cassie sighed, before her eyes fluttered back open, landing on your mildly panicked expression.

To Cassie, you were an open book. She noticed every subtle shift in your face, every flash of emotion that passed through your gaze. And right now? She could absolutely tell you were scared shitless at the thought of her son coming here, where you were.

"Hey," She said, her voice softening as she reached out, brushing her knuckles over your cheek. "It's okay. He's just gonna hang out in the break room for a bit. He won't even know who you are. Don't panic."

Your head tilted instinctively into her touch, your panic melting away bit by bit at her words. That had put you a little more at ease. Of course Harrison wouldn't know who you were- you hadn't met him yet, so of course he wasn't just going to run up to you like a little devil yelling "you're my mom's girlfriend".

But still, as 5PM grew closer and closer, you felt your stomach start to twist in knots.

You had been assisting with a patient when five o’clock rolled around. It was a hectic case- car crash, a lot of blood loss, pushing IVs of so many things that your body eventually started moving on autopilot.

When the patient was finally stabilized, and you could breathe again, you found yourself in desperate need of a snack.

So you degloved, washed your hands, and then you were off to raid the vending machine in the break room for something sweet enough (or salty- you hadn't decided yet) to get you through the last two hours of your shift.

You were still a little too absorbed in your mental snack war when you pushed open the break room door, humming a little under your breath as you beelined for the machine against the wall.

It was a tiny, frustrated huff from the couch behind you that broke you out of your thoughts.

Oh shit. You had completely forgotten.

You considered ignoring him. You considered running away. You considered every possible option other than turning around and facing your fear head on.

But something in you, some traitorous part of you, made your head turn to the side.

There he was. This eleven year old boy that had been the subject of your nightmares for weeks since you started dating his mother, sitting there with the most adorable pout on his face.

Harrison McKay was sitting on the old couch in the break room, his tablet in his lap, a furrow forming between his eyebrows that was the exact same one his mother got when she was annoyed. He was tapping away at the screen, clearly trying (and failing) to get something to load.

"They got you on the guest wifi, huh?"

His head shot up, and you almost gasped aloud when you saw how much he looked like her. You had seen photos of Harrison, sure- Cassie loved showing off pictures of her boy. But seeing it in person was a whole other ball game.

He had her nose, and her cheekbones, and the same natural redness to his cheeks. And his eyes- god, he had her eyes, too.

Harrison looked at you for a second, clearly assessing the situation. He didn't know you, didn't recognize you from the few times he had come to visit his mom at work, but you were wearing scrubs and your badge said NURSE on that bright blue background like Mateo's- so he knew you must work here, which meant you probably knew his mom.

"Yeah," He finally mumbled, deeming you safe to talk to. "Nothing's loading."

"Well, that's cause the guest wifi sucks," you chuckled, your feet carrying you over toward the couch before you could even think about it. You sat down next to him, reaching a hand out for the tablet.

"Lucky for you, I know the password to the good wifi. Hand it over- but don't tell Dana."

You saw the corners of his mouth quirk up as he handed over the tablet, like he wanted to smile but wasn't sure if he was allowed (Cassie had mentioned he was getting to that age where he pretended to be brooding all the time). He watched you carefully as you took it from his hands, opening up the settings and clicking into the staff wifi.

"You're, uh," You started, cursing yourself for the way you stammered ever so slightly over your words. "You're Harrison, right? Cassie's son?"

Of course you knew that, but he didn't know you knew that. As far as he knew, you were a stranger.

Harrison nodded, and you noticed the way his expression softened a bit as you mentioned his mother. You felt a smile tug at your own lips at the sight- god, this kid was precious.

"Cool," You replied with a smile as you typed in the wifi password you had memorized by now. "I'm Y/N, I, uh- I work with your mom. She told us you were coming by today."

As soon as your name left your lips, you knew that was a mistake- because Harrison's eyes lit up with recognition.

"Y/N?" He asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes that made your stomach flip. "My mom talks about you. Like, a lot."

Oh. Oh no.

Harrison was looking at you like a cat that had cornered a mouse, and for a second you were convinced he could smell fear.

"Oh yeah?" You asked, your voice squeaking a little at the end of your sentence. You quickly finished typing in the wifi information before practically shoving the tablet back into his hands.

“Well, we uh- your mom and I are friends so… that makes sense.”

Pinnacle of subtlety. Absolutely.

"Uh- there," You were desperate for a subject change at this point as Harrison took the tablet back from you. "All set up. That should work way better for you than the guest wifi- but if anyone starts complaining about their computers being slow? Don't tell them you're tapped into the mothership."

Harrison's expression shifted almost immediately, offering you one last mischievous look before his attention was brought back to the task at hand. He re-opened his app, grinning over at you when it loaded right away.

"Sweet! Thanks!" He threw your way before tapping on the screen again, absorbed back into his own little world once more.

A sigh of relief escaped you. Whatever he was so invested in on that tablet, he had clearly decided it was more important than interrogating you. For now.

Standing back up, you strolled back over toward the vending machine, still debating between Snickers and Doritos when you heard a familiar tune start playing from Harrison's tablet.

And suddenly, your fear about impressing the eleven year old? It started to melt away- because you knew that tune. You knew it well.

And your inner nerd was about to come out in full force.

"Is that Gravity Falls?"

Once again, Harrison's head snapped up toward you, but this time his expression was more surprised.

"You know Gravity Falls?"

"Uh, duh," you chuckled, crossing your arms as you leaned against the vending machine. "I've seen every episode, like, five times. It was my jam when I was your age- and maybe also at my age, too. Guilty pleasure."

And it was true- you had been Harrison's age when you started watching the show, and even at your big age of 24 you still circled back to it sometimes as a comfort watch.

Harrison seemed pleased with your answer, grinning up at you.

"Cool!" He said, and you could have sworn your heart almost combusted in your chest.

Cool. He thought you were cool. Your girlfriend's son who you had spent weeks being terrified of impressing had just called you cool.

"I haven't seen them all yet, but i'm on season 2 now," Harrison explained avidly, his eyes bright as he talked, and you listened.

He told you which characters were his favourite, which episodes he liked best, what he thought was going to happen in the rest of the season. You nodded along to his words, throwing in your own opinions or thoughts when you saw an opening.

At some point, you had turned back to the vending machine and got a Snickers for yourself. Then, without thinking, you looked over your shoulder and asked Harrison if he wanted anything too, and he shyly asked you if he could have a KitKat.

You obliged- because, god, this kid didn't even know who you really were yet but you already knew you'd move heaven and Earth if he asked you to.

You handed him his chocolate bar and took a seat next to him again, and he had turned his tablet screen a little more toward you as his current episode played, which made your heart melt just a little bit.

You knew you had patients to get back to, but for now? You were enjoying this little moment until someone came looking for you.

You almost couldn't believe that you had been so scared of him. Harrison was a sweetheart, just like Cassie described him. He wasn't scary at all- he was a little nerd, just like you. And not that you wanted to speak too soon but... it seemed like he liked you.

Even if he didn't totally know who you were, you let yourself relax a little into the couch as you realized you actually weren't totally screwing this up.

It was another few minutes before someone actually did come looking for you. The break room door creaked open, and a head popped through the crack.

Cassie's entire body felt like it locked up when she saw the scene in front of her- you and Harrison, together on the break room couch, him munching on his chocolate bar and yapping away to you about whatever was playing on his screen.

He noticed her first, because of course he did, and he gave her a toothy grin. "Hey, mom!"

At that, it was your turn to freeze. Your eyes snapped to hers in the doorway, widening slightly. You offered her a sheepish smile, cheeks blushing red as you realized you had been caught red handed hanging out with her son.

"Hey, Cass," Your voice followed, softening as it always did when you spoke to her. You shifted on the couch, ready to jump back to your feet and get back to work despite how much you would have liked to stay right where you were.

"Is Dana looking for me?"

"Yeah. But she can wait."

Cassie's response surprised you, but she didn't seem at all phased as she entered the room, shutting the door behind her and perching on the arm of the couch next to Harrison. She reached out a hand to gently ruffle his hair, and you couldn't help the fond smile that tugged at your mouth as he leaned into her.

"Looks like you made a new friend," She said, her eyes flitting between the two of you. "You met Y/N, huh?"

Her eyes lingered on you as she said that, tilting her head ever so slightly. You knew it was a strange sight- you, sitting there with Harrison, interacting with him so normally as if every mention of him hadn't scared the pants off of you since you two started dating. You could only offer her a tiny shrug, as if to say you weren't quite sure how you ended up here either.

"Yeah!" Harrison responded, grinning over at you. "She watches Gravity Falls, too."

"Gravity What?"

"It's a show," You and Harrison both responded at the same time. He glanced over at you, and you both let out a little laugh in response when your eyes met.

Cassie was quiet for a moment. Unbeknownst to you, for that quiet moment, her heart felt like it was about to burst right out of her chest.

Up until now, Cassie had been-as always- careful when it came to you and Harrison. She knew he was old enough to have opinions, old enough to be upset about change, and when this whole thing started between the two of you the first thought she had was how is he going to react?

And you? Cassie knew you were terrified of the kid. It would have been hilarious- you, a 24 year old nurse, scared of an 11 year old boy who left his socks in the hallway and would eat Lucky Charms for every meal if Cassie let him- but she understood why you were scared.

Because Cassie knew that you didn't think you were enough for them. She knew you thought you were too young, too irresponsible, too naive. She knew you thought that you would disappoint Harrison, and he wouldn't like you and you would ruin what the two of you had built together.

And no matter how untrue that was, Cassie also knew that her telling you it wasn't true wouldn't magically change your mind.

So she had decided that maybe slowly introducing you to Harrison over time would be the best course of action. He could get to know you, and you could get to know him, without the pressure of a label.

But yet, here you were- sitting on the couch next to her son, watching his favourite show with him while you were supposed to be working, speaking in sync with him without even trying.

And something in Cassie's heart cracked wide open.

All she could manage in response was a soft "right", chuckling half-heartedly as she glanced down at him, and then over to you.

And then? Harrison, ever the little menace, looked up at his mother with a sparkle in his eye that practically screamed I'm up to no good.

Or maybe it was more like I know your secret.

"She's really nice, Mom," He nudged her with his shoulder, a devious smirk on his lips, and Cassie nearly choked.

You, on the other end of the couch, turned bright red. Eyes wide as saucers.

Was Harrison… teasing Cassie? About you?

Fuck. Was it really so obvious that even the eleven year old had figured out just how in love with his mother you were?

“Yeah, kid,” Cassie breathed out, shaking her head with a bit of exasperated amusement as she looked down at him before her eyes flickered over to you. “Yeah, she is.”

But you couldn’t take it anymore- your cheeks were burning so hot you thought your skin might melt, your mouth was dry as the Sahara, and your heart was racing like you had just run a half marathon.

“Uh- I should… get back to work,” you stammered, pushing to your feet, glancing briefly back at the two of them.

Cassie and Harrison watched you with surprised glances at your sudden movement, and your bright red cheeks, before both of their faces shifted into matching amused expressions.

God damn it. These two were going to be the death of you, weren’t they?

Before you could embarrass yourself further, you tucked away that stubborn piece of hair that always fell loose from behind your ear, giving Harrison a quick smile.

“Nice to meet you, Harrison,” You said hurriedly before turning and rushing out of the room, desperate to find Dana and set your mind to another patient before you imploded from embarrassment.

The break room door shut behind you, and Cassie and Harrison watched you go in silence for exactly seven seconds before they both burst into a fit of giggles.

The rest of your shift was uneventful. You spent your last two hours floating from patient to patient, never going too close to the break room- as if you were afraid Harrison might be able to sense your proximity.

At 7PM, when your shift officially ended and responsibilities had been handed off to the night shift, you finally dragged your feet to your locker to grab your things.

You were desperate to get out of there- to go home and repeat the interaction with Harrison in your head over and over and try not to cringe, and then figure out how to make it up to Cassie for being completely embarrassing in front of her son. You pulled your hoodie over your head and slung your backpack over your shoulder.

You didn’t wait around for Cassie- you knew she was collecting Harrison, and you figured she would rather you not walk out with them anyway- you two were supposed to be keeping things under wraps around him, after all.

But even so, she still found you, that amused smirk still on her face as she leaned against the wall next to your locker, watching you collect your belongings.

“So,” she finally broke the silence, making you jump a little in surprise.

“You met Harrison.”

You cringed at her words, shutting your locker and resting your forehead against the cool metal.

“Yeah,” You mumbled, eyes squeezing shut. “God, Cass, I’m sorry.”

At that, Cassie paused, her eyebrows creasing in the middle as she looked at you.

“Sorry?” She echoed, taking a step closer and hesitantly reaching a hand out to your shoulder. “Sorry for what?”

You turned your head towards her, raising your eyebrows as if to say seriously?

“Cassie, I was a total idiot back there,” you groaned, recalling the way you had completely frozen after things were just starting to go well with Harrison. “And I saw that look on his face- that evil but adorable little grin? He knows something’s up, and it’s my fault because I couldn’t keep my cool for five seconds.”

“Hey, hey,” Cassie shushed, both of her hands finding your shoulders now and turning you to face her, one hand brushing gently across your cheek- a soothing gesture she’d come to learn worked wonders on you.

“Honey, calm down,” she said gently, willing the tension away from your body with her words. When you finally started to sufficiently relax under her touch, she let out a sigh.

“Okay, look, yes- Harrison knows something is up,” Cassie admitted with a sheepish grin as your eyes met hers again. “But… it’s not your fault- it’s mine.”

Your eyes widened. What? What the hell was she talking about?

Cassie was the picture of calm, cool, and collected. She had such a good poker face that sometimes it unnerved you, and you’d even asked her once or twice to teach you her nonchalant ways.

“Cassie, what-“ you started, but she cut you off with a shake of her head.

“Harrison knows something is up because I can’t shut up about you.”

The words died on your tongue, eyes widening as you processed her words.

“What?” You asked, tilting your head in that way Cassie thought was so damn adorable. “Cass, what do you mean?”

Cassie huffed softly, blowing a piece of her bangs slightly out of place. You noticed her cheeks tinging pink.

“I mean what I said,” she mumbled, clearly a little embarrassed by her own admission. “I talk about you at home, in front of Harrison. Way more than I probably should. I’ve never said anything about us technically, but… the kid’s eleven, and he’s too smart for his own good.”

There was a few moments where neither of you spoke, a silence falling over the locker room. When you did speak, it was soft- almost quiet.

“So… I didn’t blow our cover?”

“Well, I mean, your little freak out didn’t help-“

“Cassie!”

“Sorry!” She chuckled, reaching out to brush a hand over your cheek again, her touch lingering this time. “No, honey. Our cover was already blown before you freaked out and bolted out of the room like a deer caught in headlights.”

Your cheeks were bright red by now, eyes narrowed in a half hearted glare, but you couldn’t resist leaning into her palm on your cheek.

The tension bled out of you with every soft stroke of her thumb, your breath coming a little easier now that you knew you hadn’t totally screwed things up with your girlfriend’s soon.

“He likes you, you know,” she continued after a moment, her hand sliding down to gently cradle your jaw, fingers hooking under your chin to gently guide your eyes more directly to hers. “Harrison. He thinks you’re cool.”

“He does?”

Cassie hummed softly in confirmation, that small smile on her lips- one that said she was content, happy, relieved that the two people she loved most in this world had finally met- and had gotten along so much better than she could have ever hoped

“Mhm. He said you have… aura? And that you rizzed me up- whatever that means.”

“Oh my god.”

But even as you groaned over Harrison's mortifying but hilarious use of slang, you felt your heart flutter in your chest.

Because he liked you. He knew there was something going on between you and his mom, and he still thought you were cool.

When you started nursing school, the first thing you learned had absolutely nothing to do with your duties as a nurse.

It had been your first day of classes. You were dressed in an outfit that you hoped made you look older than you were- more serious, more put together.

You were barely 20 years old, and you had been halfway through a biochemistry degree when you realized it wasn't what you wanted to do at all. You wanted to help people, wanted to make a difference in people's lives- and that's what brought you to the University of Pittsburgh's nursing program.

On your first day of classes, you stumbled blindly through the halls, desperately lost and at risk of being late for your orientation. Luckily, a nice girl in her third year of the program had taken pity on you and led you to the lecture hall, chatting the whole way about the program and what you should expect.

And the first piece of advice she gave you? Never get romantically involved with someone you might have to work with.

You had laughed it off, telling her you were sure that wouldn't be a problem for you. And it wasn't- by the time you graduated four years later, you had largely forgotten about that conversation with that nice third year. In fact, you had largely forgotten about dating in general- nursing school had taken up a lot of your time.

Until you got hired at the Pitt, the busiest ER in Pittsburgh, and you met Dr. Cassie McKay- 3rd year medical resident, nearly twice your age, and the most beautiful woman you had ever laid eyes on.

She had striking blue eyes, and your gaze gravitated straight toward her in the crowd as Dana, your supervisor, and Dr. Robby, the ER's attending physician, introduced you to the team. You told yourself it was because of her red hair- bright, fiery, drawing your eye- but your heart knew it was something more than that.

And to make matters even worse, Cassie was a total sweetheart. Dana had assigned you to work alongside her that day in triage (which you quickly learned they referred to as Chairs), letting you get a feel for the pace of the job without dealing with anything too traumatic.

And Cassie stayed by your side the whole time, hovering but not controlling, nodding softly as you made right call after right call with every patient and largely following your lead.

Your conversations stayed mostly professional, which you appreciated- your personal life wasn't something you loved talking about, especially to someone you had just met. But as the day progressed, you couldn't help that feeling in your gut that ached to know everything about her.

"Day one and you're already fighting for the title of best nurse," Cassie had said near the end of the shift, giving you a smile that made your heart feel like a rocket ship blasting off.

"You did great today."

Her praise made you feel like a little puppy being surprised with treats from its owner, and you hoped that sparkle in your eye wasn't too obvious as you thanked her for all her help.

That night, you had left PTMC and went straight home, crawling into bed with sore feet and a glass of wine. And then, for reasons you couldn't even begin to understand, you pulled out your phone and googled her name.

And that was a rabbit hole you never should have went down- you found her Instagram, her Facebook, her LinkedIn. You learned that her full name was Cassandra, and that she had a son- Harrison, 11 years old according to the Facebook post she had made for his birthday a few months ago.

You learned that she was a Pisces- her birthday was on her LinkedIn profile- and that made your heart flip in your chest.

It wasn't that you put a lot of faith in astrological compatibility, but you weren't evensupposed to be a Cancer- you were supposed to be a Gemini, but by some freak cosmic intervention (or maybe just how your mother's pregnancy fared out), you were born a week late- meaning you had been born a Cancer.

And Pisces and Gemini? Not very compatible. Not at all.

But Pisces and Cancer- well, that was like a match made in heaven. So that had to mean something, didn't it? The universe had interfered in your birth because it needed you to be compatible with your future coworker 24 years later, right?

God. One day at the Pitt and you were already going insane. Great.

Cassie liked fixing cars (and may or may not have posted a photo on Instagram that made you gasp out loud), and from what you could see she seemed to be single- divorced, you guessed, considering the whole kid thing.

But something in your gut- feminine intuition?- told you that there was no way in hell someone that looked like that was straight. No damn way.

And was she nearly twice your age? Yes. 

Did you care? Not really, no.

You stayed up far later than you anticipated that night, shamelessly stalking your hot, older coworker on the internet until you had fallen asleep, empty wine glass in one hand and phone in the other.

The next morning, you trudged into work like a zombie fuelled purely by caffeine, and you had made up a series of ridiculous excuses every time one of your new coworkers asked why you looked so exhausted.

My cat kept me up all night. I wasn't feeling well. Got distracted watching TV and lost track of time.

You were lucky that no one knew you well enough yet to bother comparing notes on your scattered excuses, or else your cover would have been blown in a second.

One person who did see through your bullshit? Trinity Santos- first year resident at the Pitt who started a few months before you, sarcastic to a fault, and way too observant for her own good.

It was a week into your time at the Pitt. You had been working with Cassie quite a bit- Dana told you it was because she's a good teacher, and you were obliged to agree. Cassie was a great teacher.

She let you learn the ins and outs of your job without being an overbearing doctor, or taking over with a patient before you had finished. She never made you feel less important than her, even though you were only a nurse and she was technically your superior. She complimented you when you deserved it (which was often, in her opinion), and when you made the wrong call she advised you with gentleness and patience.

And you? Well, let's just say you were lucky that Cassie was oblivious- because you were not the pinnacle of subtlety.

Which you were informed of when Trinity dropped into a chair next to you, mid shift, while you were charting at the Nurses' Station.

"Hey," she said nonchalantly, as if this was a normal occurrence. As if the two of you had ever had a conversation before (you had not).

You looked at her with a quizzical glance. "Hey?"

"You're so gay for McKay."

Oh yeah- one more thing about Trinity Santos? She was blunt as hell. You ended up choking on your own saliva, sputtering with wide eyes as her comment reached your ears.

A few heads turned toward you in concern at your coughing fit, but you waved them off with tomato red cheeks as you took a sip from the water bottle you had sitting on the desk.

"Relax," Trinity continued, laughing to herself. "I'm not going to go telling the whole ED. I just think it's funny, that's all. You get all starry-eyed the second she walks into a room."

You looked at her with an incredulous expression. Was this girl serious? She hadn't spoken a word to you yet in the week you had worked there- and then she chooses this as her opening?

That was... kind of awesome, actually.

And that was how you and Trinity Santos became best friends.

You confided in Trinity about your feelings for McKay- and you found no end of glee in teasing her when you found out she was in a similar situation with Yolanda Garcia. The surgical physician was only ten years her senior, compared to the eighteen years between you and McKay, but the irony of the two queer women in their 20s being obsessed with their older superiors was not lost on the two of you.

"It's what makes us friends," Trinity had said one night over a glass of wine at your apartment. "Trauma bonding."

Trinity had tried her absolute hardest to get you to do something about your feelings for Cassie, but you were firm on the fact that that could not- would not- happen.

She was 42, with an 11 year old son- and you were a 24 year old girl who could barely feed herself dinner.

"Cassie and I are at very different stages of life," you had retorted one night that Trinity had become extra persistent. "She's a mother, she's probably looking for someone more mature. Someone who could actually be a parent for Harrison. I can't even cook chicken without freaking out."

"You love kids."

"I'm not even old enough to be his mom, Trinity."

"Step-mom. You don't have to be old enough."

"You're insufferable."

It was a month into your time at the Pitt when you finally got invited to go for drinks after shift.

"It's a Pitt tradition," you were told when they had invited you. The day shift apparently loved to go out to the bar down the road from the hospital after easy shifts, and now that you were becoming part of their little family, it was time to fold you in on this plan too.

But a bar? That wasn't really your scene.

"Oh, uh- I'm not sure," You had said a little nervously when Javadi and Whitaker had brought it up, tucking a piece of hair back behind your ear where it had fallen out of your braids.

"Oh, come on, Y/N," Trinity had groaned from her spot next to you (where she always seemed to be), banging her head against the table. "Don't be such a buzzkill. It's not like we're going to a rave at a nightclub. It's a dive bar with cheap drinks and bad karaoke."

Then, she cracked her head up with a mischievous grin, eyes locking on yours.

"And, a little birdie told me that you know who is coming too," Trinity grinned, and your eyes widened immediately.

"Trinity!" You hissed, smacking her arm, eyes darting between her and Javadi and Whitaker. You hoped they didn't hear her, or that they'd ignore it at least- but of course you're never that lucky.

"Ooh, who are we talking about?" Victoria asked, leaning in closer over the counter, making you drop your head forward onto the desk.

"Oh my god, no one," You groaned. "We're not talking about anyone. Trinity's being ridiculous."

"Is this about McKay?"

Your head snapped up, eyes wide as they landed on Whitaker.

"Et tu, Whitaker?" You asked with an incredulous look, to which he only snickered in response.

Victoria, meanwhile, looked completely lost. She looked between the three of you with wide eyes, her mouth in the shape of an 'O'.

"McKay?" She asked, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "What about McKay?"

"Oh my god, can you three keep your damn voices down?" You hissed lowly, looking around to make sure no one had heard them blatantly talking about your coworker. "She works here too, you know. She could literally hear you."

"Good. Maybe then I won't have to witness your ridiculous pining anymore."

"Shut up, Trinity."

"Pining?"

"Oh, sweet Crash," Trinity tsked gently, patting Victoria's hand where it sat on the counter. "Yes, pining. Our dear Y/N has wanted to jump McK- you know who's bones since her first day. And it looks like it's painfully obvious, considering Huckleberry's picked up on it, too."

"Oh my god, I do not want to jump her bones," You groaned again.

"You got drunk last week and sent me a screenshot of her Instagram saying 'I know it's big' and 'I want to be her controversially young girlfriend'."

"I'm going to kill you. With a weapon."

"Anyway," Whitaker interrupted before the conversation could escalate. "The point of all this is- you're coming out for drinks tonight. And so is she. So, what are you gonna do about it?"

"Uh... nothing?"

"Not an option."

"Well then I don't know what to tell you," You threw your hands up a little, pushing your stray hairs away from your face. "We're just coworkers. And unlike you dipshits, I actually like working with her. I'd rather not compromise that by telling her I want her when she clearly doesn't want me."

"I... don't think that's true."

Your head whipped toward Victoria, eyes widening at her words.

"What do you mean you don't think that's true?" You asked with a skeptical tone, and Trinity and Whitaker both leaned forward on their elbows.

"Yeah, Crash. C'mon, what do you know?"

"Well, I just-" the younger girl sputtered with a shrug. "I don't know. I work with her sometimes and- and she talks about you. Saying how capable you are and stuff. Every time she needs a nurse she requests you."

"And the other day she said you were pretty, and then totally tried to backtrack and pretend she didn't."

By the time Victoria finished speaking, all of your jaws were on the floor. You blinked once, then twice, then three times.

And then, it was Trinity who broke the silence.

"Holy shit," She said, turning to you wide eyed as if she had just discovered the secret of the universe. She gripped your shoulders, shaking you slightly.

"Y/N," She said. "Babe, you have to do something about this. She's literally obsessed with you."

"Are we forgetting the fact that I literally can't speak to her without turning into a lost puppy? I think I might actually die if she speaks to me outside of work."

"That's what the alcohol is for," Trinity continued, still shaking your shoulders gently. "We get a couple drinks in you, lower your inhibitions a little, loosen up your tongue. You tell McKay you think she's hot and that you're into cougars, she takes you home, and you have the best sex of your life. Bingo."

"Trinity."

"Come on," She whined, pulling on your arm. "Literally what is the worst that could happen? She says she's not interested, and then you can blame it on the alcohol and you go back to being coworkers like nothing happened."

"But she's not going to say that."

"Not helping, Huckleberry."

"Sorry."

Suffice to say, the Pittlings were extremely persuasive friends- and that is how you ended up at a dive bar in Pittsburgh, two cocktails deep and squished at a table with the three of them.

"I'm getting another drink," You announced, picking up your empty glass as you stood up from the table to make your way over to the bar, waving to the rest of your coworkers as you went. You weren't insanely drunk, but you could feel your head starting to get just a little bit fuzzy.

One more drink, and you'd be stumbling around the place for sure- which, according to Trinity, was exactly what you needed.

You flagged the bartender for another drink, giving him a grateful smile as you waited for him to mix your cocktail, leaning your elbows against the bar.

"Someone's having fun."

Cassie's voice reached your ears before you saw her, making your spine tingle ever so slightly. You turned your head to the left, seeing her sitting alone at a barstool- looking unfairly good in a black button up and jeans, that damn chain she always wore hanging loose instead of being half tucked inside her scrubs. She was nursing a drink, some sort of soda since she didn't drink alcohol, her hand resting gently on the top of her glass as she eyed you.

You could have sworn she looked you up and down, but you still weren't convinced you weren't completely delusional.

"McKay," you said with a polite smile, moving to slip onto the stool next to her while you waited for your drink. "Good to see you."

The formality was almost painful, and so unlike you, but the alcohol was already starting to loosen your tongue, so you were trying extra hard not to open your mouth and say something stupid like I want you so bad please take me home.

Cassie raised an eyebrow at you, seeming almost amused as you sat down next to her. "McKay?" She asked with a grin. "You haven't called me that since your first week. Did I do something?"

You could tell she was teasing, and you rolled your eyes lightheartedly in response. "Sorry, Cassie," You emphasized her name with a flash of your eyebrows, earning a small smirk from her.

"That's more like it," she replied, her tone a bit lower than usual as she looked over at you- and it sent a wave of heat straight to your gut.

A moment of silence fell between the two of you, and you took a moment to observe her- not Dr. McKay, the attentive and diligent resident physician you knew in the ED, but just Cassie. She looked significantly more relaxed, her posture a little looser than you'd seen it at work. Somebody on the small karaoke stage was singing a horrible rendition of Just Like Heaven, and she was watching with an amused look on her face, mouthing all the words under breath. 

 "So," Cassie continued once the song had ended, turning her gaze back on you. "You having fun? You've been hanging out over there with Santos, Javadi and Whitaker all night." 

"Oh, so you were watching me?" You retorted, your heart doing a weird little flip in your chest as your watched her eyes widen a little bit- like she had been caught doing something she wasn't supposed to. You chuckled at her reaction, shrugging in response to her question.

"I'm not not having fun," You continued. "Just... this type of thing isn't really my vibe- going out to bars. I'm really only here cause Trinity insisted I needed to get drunk."

"You don't seem very drunk." 

"I'm workin' on it." 

It was at that moment that the bartender returned with your drink, sliding it across the counter. You thanked him, reaching to pull out your wallet- but before you could even get it out of your purse, Cassie was sliding a crumpled ten dollar bill towards him.

"Cassie," You protested, looking up at her, your eyebrows knotting together. "What are you doing?" 

"Paying for your drink," She shrugged nonchalantly, as if it was the most normal thing ever. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

Her blue eyes never left yours as she spoke, reaching down to grab her own glass and lifting it to her lips to take another sip. The intensity of the action made your head spin (or maybe that was just the alcohol), and you reached for your own drink with shaky hands, quickly slamming back half of it.

You were not drunk enough for this. 

You placed your drink back down on the bar, and your eyes met hers again like they always did- your eyes were constantly drawn to hers, like a moth to a flame. They were still looking at you intensely, and you noticed how pretty they looked underneath the dim, colourful lights in the dive bar. The blue and purple hues danced across Cassie's skin, making her look like some sort of moonlit goddess.

And you could feel the alcohol floating around in your system, disintegrating your filter with every passing second- which, when mixed with her presence, was a recipe for disaster. 

Because the one time you desperately, desperately needed that filter was when you were around Cassie McKay- when her biceps would flex under her sleeves during a procedure, or her bangs would fall in her face, or that stupid chain would dangle partially out of her scrubs, and your brain was overcome with impure thoughts that nobody should probably ever say to their coworker. 

And she looked good as hell tonight. You couldn't even act like she didn't- you were sure she'd noticed how you'd been quietly ogling her since coming over here.

"I, uh-," You stuttered, immediately trying to make yourself a quick escape plan. "I gotta... go to the bathroom. I'll be right back."

You stood up from your stool, wobbling a little on your feet. Cassie chuckled and reached out to steady you, her hands finding your waist gently (which totally didn't make your heart race in your chest at all).

"Careful there," she said, her voice low and velvety as it reached your ears.

And then, she was standing too, her hand sliding around to hover over your back, unknowingly (or maybe fully knowingly) foiling your plan to get away from her. 

"C'mon," she said, soft but slightly authoritative. "I'll go with you. It's crowded in here, you shouldn't wander off on your own when you're like this."

She was right, the bar was crowded- and that's how you ended up here. In the moderately long line for the bathroom, your arm squished up against hers as you both leaned against the wall. 

The lighting was a little different in this area of the bar, the fluorescent lighting from the womens' bathroom spilling out through the crack in the door and into the crowded hallway. In the position you two were standing, that little spill of light illuminated Cassie's face perfectly, falling on her cheekbones and the corner of her mouth and the freckle under her nose. 

It made her look like a god damn angel, and you decided it was almost offensive how something as mundane as a bathroom light could make her look so ethereal. 

You didn't realize you were staring until she chuckled at you. 

"You okay down there?" The corners of her mouth twitched up in a smirk as she nudged your shoulder with her bicep. She had caught you red handed, looking up at her with that dazed look in your eyes- half from the alcohol, half from... something else. 

You blinked yourself out of your daze, and your cheeks promptly flushed as red as a firetruck as you realized what had happened. 

"Shut up," You grumbled, ducking your head in embarrassment. 

Cassie didn't tease further, but she did chuckle again as you attempted to hide from her gaze. And then, like it was as instinctual as breathing, she wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into her side. 

No acknowledgement, no words- nothing. Just Cassie, putting her arm around you like that, gently rubbing her thumb up and down on your shoulder. Her body was warm against yours, and you couldn't help the way you instinctively relaxed a little against her. 

And you let her. You stayed there, tucked away safely under her arm until you reached the front of the bathroom line. 

Cassie waited patiently for you, leaning against the sink, trying to avoid the drunk girls who spilled out of their stalls to fix their makeup in the mirror. A few of them eyed her up and down (who wouldn't?) but she paid them no mind, her eyes fixed on the door of the stall you had disappeared into. 

When you emerged, she almost audibly sighed in relief. She leaned her shoulder against yours as you washed your hands, and pulled a few sheets of paper towel from the dispenser before you could even reach for it, pushing them into your waiting hands. You could only mumble out a thank you, wrestling with the blush that threatened your cheeks (it won). 

You thought you'd be done with Cassie at that point- after all, she had only accompanied you to the bathroom to make sure you weren't caught alone. You expected to part ways now- you back to Trinity and Dennis and Victoria, and her back to her quiet brooding at that stool at the bar. 

But she didn't leave. She pushed open the bathroom door, holding it open for you, and then promptly swung her arm back around your shoulders as she led you back out of the bathroom hallway. 

"You gonna head back to your friends now?" Cassie mumbled in your ear, her voice sending a shiver down your spine. You looked over towards your table, where your three friends were giggling over something. Trinity was trying really hard not to glance in your direction, but you could tell by that smirk on her face that she had absolutely seen what was going down between you and McKay. 

You should have said yes. You should have stepped away from her arm and returned to your friends. 

But you were exactly how Trinity had wanted you to be- drunk enough to say things you would never have said sober. 

"Do you want me to?" You asked, your tone velvety smooth despite your words being a little slurred. You looked up at her through your lashes, watching as her eyes widened ever so slightly, her throat bobbing as she swallowed hard. 

"You're drunk, sweetheart," She replied, her voice quiet enough for just you to hear, the term of endearment rolling off her tongue like it belonged there.

You swore you had never in your life heard something as beautiful as Cassie McKay calling you sweetheart.

A laugh bubbled up your throat at her words, and you gave a squeaky little hiccup. 

"Y'know," You mumbled, still giggling a little around your words. "M'only drunk cause Trinity wanted me to be. Said I'd never tell you sober."

And there goes that filter. Out the window. The words are off your tongue before your brain even realizes they're gone.

They sit between you like a loaded gun- sitting, waiting for one of you to reach out and pull the trigger. After a few minutes, Cassie does. 

"Tell me what?"

"Nothing," You reply, but your voice is an octave too high. And your breath trembles a little. And she's looking at you with those eyes that feel like they're piercing through your soul and god, you want her to stare at you forever. 

She doesn't accept your answer. She knows its bullshit. So she unwraps her arm from your shoulder, and you think she's pulling away but on the contrary, she's gripping your arms in her hands and turning you to face her.

"Tell me what, sweetheart?" She asks again, her voice like a velvety purr that makes every fibre of your being buzz. Her left thumb rubs up and down over the fabric of your sleeve, while her other hand drifts up to brush your hair away from your face. 

It's too much. It's not enough. Your body feels like it's on fire everywhere she touches you. 

"Cassie," You breathe out, because right now it- she- feels like the only thing that makes sense. 

You're a mess in front of her. Falling apart at the seams, your breath catching in your chest every time her thumb dips below the sleeve of your shirt and brushes your skin. You're staring up at her, lost in those ocean blue eyes you haven't stopped thinking about since your first day at the Pitt. 

And Cassie is staring back down at you with that look on her face- the one that says she knows. 

She's known for a long time that you were interested in her. As mentioned earlier, you are not the pinnacle of subtlety. But what you didn't realize is that Cassie McKay was never as oblivious as she seemed, she was just... cautious. 

But now you're standing in front of her, looking up at her like you were watching the stars being painted into the night sky, and for once she throws caution to the wind.

"You know this place closes at eleven, right?" She mumbles softly, her hand lingering on your cheek for just a second after she brushes that stubborn strand of hair away from your eyes. 

You give her a slightly jerky nod, because you do know that. It's one of the only reasons the Pittlings were able to convince you to come- by promising you it wouldn't be a late night. The other reason was her, because of course you'd go anywhere she was. 

You tear your gaze from hers just long enough to glance at the nearest clock, and feel your heart sink in your chest. 10:47.

The bar was closing in ten minutes. Ten more minutes with Cassie before you'd have to leave her to pile back in an Uber with the Pittlings, enduring their relentless teasing when all you really want to do is stay there in her orbit forever.

You're about to sigh, to excuse yourself, to say goodbye to her and head back to the table when she says something that surprises you. 

"How 'bout I give you a ride home?" Cassie suggests, tilting her head a little as she looks down at you, observing your reaction. Her tone implies that it's less of a question and more of a statement- but she wants to hear you say yes anyway. 

Drunk you lights up like a kid on Christmas Morning, because oh god she wanted to drive you home? She wanted to spend more time with you?

You're nodding before you even finish thinking about it.

"Yeah," You reply, a little too eagerly but you can't find it in you to care. "Yeah, that would be nice." 

And then she's smiling, and telling you to go grab your coat from where you had left it at your table, and you're making your way back to the table of your friends who are looking at you like you've just won the lottery.

"McKay is driving me home," You mutter as you quickly grab your jacket, trying to fight off the smile tugging at your lips (it's a losing battle).

"Oh she is, is she?" Trinity smirks, leaning her chin in her palm. 

"It's just a ride home, Trin," You groan, though even you aren't quite convinced by the words yourself. 

It was not just a ride home. 

Cassie had pulled up outside your apartment at 11:04. You had sat in her car for exactly three minutes, trying to prolong the conversation so you didn't have to end the night, before you finally just blurted it out.

"Do you want to come in?"

Of course she had said yes- she had been counting on you asking. So she followed you inside, her fingers grazing yours almost agonizingly as she walked beside you. The two of you fell onto your couch, two glasses of water sitting on the coffee table in front of you. 

In your defence, you tried to be normal for a little while, you really did. For the first time since you started at the Pitt, you and Cassie were talking about non-work-related things. And it was really nice. 

You took turns asking each other questions. She asked you what you liked to do for fun, and you asked her if she had ever travelled overseas (she hadn't). But eventually, in the midst of all the questions, you got a little distracted.

Your eyes- your traitorous eyes- kept dropping to her hands where they sat in her lap. Picking at the seam of her jeans, wrapping around her glass of water, tapping gently against her knee.

You weren't sure if you wanted to hold her hands, or if you wanted her hands all over you- or both. 

After a while, Cassie noticed your spaced out gaze, now staring shamelessly at her hands. 

"Are you listening to me?"

"Not at all." 

She had laughed, and then her hands were moving- one to your waist, and one to your cheek.