Em 🌙

It was the first of December when you decided to decorate yours and Addison’s apartment. Addison was busy at work, saving lives and completely unaware that you had bought a tree and half of IKEA’s Christmas section. That evening, she stepped through the door and froze in the doorway as she took in the scene in front of her—the tree half decorated, your cat Milo tangled in fairy lights, and you kneeling on the floor with tinsel draped over your shoulder. Addison just stared, taking in the domestic mess before finally speaking up with a smirk.

“Jesus” she muttered. “I left for a few hours.”

A beat passes before Addison stepped further inside, already reaching to untangle Milo from where he knotted himself into trouble. The cat immediately wobbled off towards the couch like nothing happened.

You smiled sheepishly and glanced around the mess. “I was bored, so I thought it was time to decorate this place.” You studied your work and let out a frustrated sigh. “It doesn’t look right. I don’t like it.”

Addison plucked a stray piece of tinsel from your hair. “Hey it looks good so far.”

You shook your head. “Good but not perfect. It’s our first Christmas in our new apartment. It needs to be perfect.”

She chuckled, already reaching out for one of the ornaments. “Okay miss perfection. Need an elf to help you?”

“Please.” You said with a hopeful smile.

Together, you decorated the tree, carefully adding ornaments one by one. Addison handed them to you as you reached up, her fingers brushing yours every time. The room slowly filled with quiet laughter and the soft clink of glass ornaments. it felt less like decorating a tree and more like building something that was yours. You wanted to add the fairy lights but you struggled to put them up.

“Move over, let mom handle this.” You rolled your eyes playfully. Addison took over, carefully winding the lights around the tree, her hands working fast and efficient.

“Tada. I am officially the superior Christmas decorator.”

You smiled and wrapped your arm around her waist, leaning into her side as you admired your now shining tree. “My hero.”

“Thats it?” Addison asked with hope of finally sitting on the couch and having you all to herself for the rest of the evening.

You stepped back and grabbed a bag with remaining decor with a grin. She groaned and took the bag. “Alright let’s do this.”

You decorated your entire living room, turning your little safe place into a cozy winter wonderland. Soft lights glowed from every corner, reflecting off ornaments and tinsel. It felt warm and intimate, like the space itself was wrapped in comfort. As final touch, you hung up a mistletoe. When you stepped down from the ladder, Addison smiled and wrapped her arms around her waist from behind. “What a coincidence.”

You giggled and turned around, arms slinging around her in return. “You know what this means.”

Without hesitation, she leaned in. The kiss was slow und unhurried, her lips tasting like tea and cinnamon. Her hands resting on your lower back. When she pulled back, her forehead rested against yours, her smile soft and content—like this was exactly where she was meant to be.

“Happy early Christmas .” you whispered.

“Happy early Christmas.” She kissed you again.

Your moment was interrupted by a soft, demanding meow. Addie chuckled and picked up Milo. “Hey buddy, do you want affection too?”

The hospital hallway was quiet in that late-night way. lights dimmed, footsteps echoing, the chaos finally settling. You strolled down the hallway, two cups of coffee in your hands. Your eyes wandered, looking for her. Then you spotted her, standing at the nurses station. Addisons red hair was tied in a bun, eyebrows furrowed in focus as she studied her charts. You couldn’t help but smile. You have been together for only a week. after months of dancing around it, flirting, dating, and pretending you weren’t already halfway in love, you finally made it official. It was complicated at first. Dating your attending wasn’t exactly everyone would accept and understand. But you didn’t care anymore. the new relationship head rush made everything feel magnetic about her. Your legs carry you towards the nurses station, and you stood right beside her, placing the cup of coffee on the desk. Addison perked up, her green eyes meeting yours and her lips tugged into a soft smile.

“I thought you could use another coffee to survive this night shift.”

Addison let out a tired, soft laugh, that kind that only came out when she let her guard down. “Oh god, I needed that. Thank you.”

Her fingers brush against yours as she took the cup from you, and you could swear it wasn’t accidentally.

“I thought so. You look like hell.”

“Oh wow thank you.” She teased.

“Relax, you look adorable when you are exhausted.” Then you added, softer, “But you also look like you need sleep, food, and maybe five more coffees.”

Addison let out another tired little laugh, her eyes warming at your concern.

“Yeah that’s true. I just want to go home already.”

“Home, huh? With me or just your bed?” You raised a brow.

Addison gave you a look—one that answered the question for you.

You were about to keep talking, when her pager suddenly went off. Addison sighed, and glanced down to check it. She immediately shifted into doctor mode.

“Damn. Trauma coming in. Thirty-four weeks, suspected uterine rupture. OB wants me in the pit.”

you nodded and stepped aside to give her room. “Go.”

Before she moved, she gave you a quick and soft kiss on your cheek. “Thanks for the coffee.”

You smiled, squeezing her hand. “Always. Go save someone.”

She exhaled, a tiny smile forming despite the urgency. “I’ll come find you when I’m out.”

“You better.”

She took a last glance at you, before turning around and heading down the hallway, her coat swinging behind her.

Your work hours dragged on and you finally caught a moment of break, so you decided to grab another coffee and head to the gallery to watch Addisons surgery. When you stepped inside, a few other doctors were already engrossed into the surgery. You spotted alex and took a seat next to him.

“You’re here to watch the surgery or to stare at Montgomery like a creep?”

You smirked. “Can’t I do both?”

Alex rolled his eyes. “At least you admit it.”

“How is it going?” You asked, taking a sip of your coffee.

Alex sighed. “Not good.”

“What is happening?”

He nodded toward the field below. “Thirty-four weeks, suspected uterine rupture. But the tear’s worse than they thought—she’s losing blood fast.”

You leaned forward, watching Addison’s movements—still steady, but sharper, quicker.

“Is the baby okay?” you whispered.

“For now,” Alex said, jaw tight. “Montgomery’s trying to get the kid out, but the bleeding’s messing up her field. She can’t see as well as she needs to.”

Down below, Addison barked an order, urgency creeping into her voice. Your chest tightened at the sight of Addisons tense shoulders. You hated seeing her like this, barely having control over the situation. And you knew how much she hated losing control. Alex caught your concerned look.

“Don’t freak out yet, if someone can handle this situation, it’s her.”

But his tone wasn’t fully sure, and that terrified you. You held your breath as the room below shifted into chaos.

“Okay, she is going for the incision.” You murmured.

You watched Addison’s hands move fast, almost too fast for your eyes to follow. Another surgeon suctioned aggressively, blood clouding the field.

“Damn,” Alex muttered. “She’s still bleeding like crazy.”

Addison’s voice snapped through the OR:

“Clamp. Now. I need more exposure—move the retractor, I can’t see.”

A nurse hurried to adjust. You almost thought Addison might lose her cool, but she didn’t. Suddenly, the heartbeat of the baby dropped and so did your stomach. Addison made a precise cut, hands firm and unwavering despite the blood. A beat later, a weak cry echoed through the OR. The whole gallery let out a shaky exhale in relief. But Addison didn’t stop.

“She’s not done,” Alex murmured. “Mom’s still crashing. She has minutes to control that hemorrhage.” Below, Addison’s jaw tightened as she searched for the bleeding vessel, voice low but urgent:

“There—found it. Clamp.”

You leaned back, the tension in your shoulder eased.

“She did it.” You smiled, hoping she would look up and see you’ve been watching her the whole time. And after she stabilised the bleeding and closed the mother up, her head perked up. Your eyes met hers briefly, and something in Addisons stressed face softened. Still, you knew she wasn’t okay. You had to find her after everything.

The surgery was over, and it left everyone on the surgical team drained and quiet—including Addison. The baby had been transferred to the NICU in critical condition. The mother had survived, but she needed multiple transfusions. The baby’s future seemed uncertain, and there was nothing anyone could do right now. Addison disappeared and you tried to find her everywhere - in the doctor’s lounge, on-call rooms, even in the closets. You sent her a message, which said:

“Sweetheart, where are you?”

After what felt like an eternity, she texted back.

“I am outside.”

You changed out of your work clothes—your shift was over anyway—and headed outside. The morning sun was starting to rise, casting a soft glow over the hospital, mixing with the rain. You spotted Addison sitting on a bench, her mascara smudged, and you couldn’t tell if it was from the rain or from her tears. You took a seat next to her.

“Hey… I searched for you everywhere.”

She didn’t answer right away. Instead she took a shaky exhale. “Sorry.”

You wrapped your arm around her shoulder. “No it’s okay. I was just worried. Are you okay?”

Addison was about to speak, to tell you she was okay and keep her guard up. But she decided otherwise and her head shook slowly. “No. I thought I could handle it.” She murmured. “I always handle it.”

“Hey don’t say that. You did handle it.”

She shook her head, jaw tight. “The baby’s barely holding on. The mom almost died on my table. And I—” Her voice cracked, just a little. “I hate when it’s not enough.”

You reached out and gently brushed a wet strand of hair from her face—rain, tears, you couldn’t tell either.

“It isn’t your job to perform miracles,” you said softly. “You are a doctor, a very amazing one, but not god. Their fate is not in your hands. You tried, and thats what matters.”

Addison leaned back against the bench, closing her eyes like she was too tired to keep them open. You slid your hand into hers, waiting for her to pull away. She didn’t.

You kept talking. “A mentor I admired once said to me: never let a case swallow you whole. You do what you can, step back and breathe. And the next morning you try again.”

Addison eyes blinked open, a soft teary chuckle escaped her lips. “That sounds familiar.”

“Like I said, a mentor I admired.” You smiled. affectionately and genuinely. Addison was not only your girlfriend, but also your mentor. And you admired her work and wise words more than anything.

“Maybe I should start following my own lessons.” She admitted with a sad smile.

“You should.” Her fingers tightened around her, and your thumb brushed over her knuckles in silent reassurance. “You did great in the OR. Seriously. You should have seen the impression on everyone’s face. I can’t list many surgeons who can perform such a challenging surgery like you did.”

the tension in her shoulders loosened slowly but surely. Her head moved to rest on your shoulder and your heart rate picked up a bit. “You praise me too much.” But she smiled, finally.

“No, just telling the truth.”

Addison glanced up, her eyes still wet. When you leaned in, it was gentle, barely there at first, more a question than a kiss. Her breath hitched, and then she answered it, pressing her lips to yours like she was finally letting herself exhale. After a few moments you broke the kiss.

“Go home. You deserve a nice breakfast and a long nap.” You said, brushing your hand over her wet cheek. “And dry clothes.”

“Only if you come with me.” She murmured hopefully.

You smiled. “of course.”

She smiled and pushed herself off the bench, swaying for a moment. “Careful.”

You slipped your hand in hers. “Let’s get you out of the rain before you get sick.”

As you walked toward the parking lot, she leaned just a little closer, shoulder brushing yours.

“Thank you,” she said softly, almost swallowed by the sound of the rain. “For… everything tonight.”

“You don’t have to thank me. I am just make sure you don’t faint after this miserable night.” You opened the passengers seat for her and she settled in, while you warmed up the car.

“And you really gonna cook for me?” She teased, her eyes softened.

“You have no idea. You are gonna taste the best meal you’ve ever had, I swear. I could make eggs with bacon or…”

And before you could finish speaking, she leaned forward and kissed you — gentle, rain-cooled, grateful. A moment that felt like both a promise and a release.