This is a sideblog for @kingdonmicrofic. That blog requires submissions to be under 500 words, but if our prompts inspire longer fic, that’s also really exciting!
So we are going to reblog longer fic here.
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@kingdonmacrofic
This is a sideblog for @kingdonmicrofic. That blog requires submissions to be under 500 words, but if our prompts inspire longer fic, that’s also really exciting!
So we are going to reblog longer fic here.

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day one prompt: confetti pls be nice i havent written fic in 10 years @kingdonmacrofic word count: 1,099
start of something new //
summary: mel joins the pittlings at a karaoke bar
read it on ao3!
Kingdon Microfic Week
Day 2: Champagne
@kingdonmicrofic
(apologies, this one is a little over the word count >M<)
“Easy there,” Frank groans as he ushers an incredibly wobbly Mel back into her hotel room. The door slams behind them as one of his hands searches for the light switch and the other holds Mel upright.
Frank never should’ve let Mel out of his sight. The servers at the PTMC gala are always liberal in handing out their offerings of champagne and other libations. Mel had mentioned the other day how she wanted to “let loose for once” and she used that to her advantage, he supposes, in accomplishing her goal of releasing her inhibitions.
And Frank would never stop her from having a good time. Out of everyone at the PTMC, she deserved a pass to be a little messy. Still, when he found her hanging off of Trinity’s shoulder, loudly declaring to Jack Abbott, “I’m not even that drunk!!” Frank knew she was in fact that drunk. And as her friend, it was his duty to make sure she didn’t end up in a bad situation.
“But I dunwanna,” Mel whines, clinging to the collar of Frank’s disheveled suit and nearly dragging him down onto the floor with her. Thankfully, he manages to regain his footing quickly enough to, essentially, use the momentum to fling her towards the bed.
“Weeee!” Mel's voice rises and falls with glee as her back hits the mattress. “Do that again!!” she demands.
Frank digs his thumbs into his lower back and presses inward, stretching his abdomen until he feels and hears a pop.
“No way, party girl. You need water and rest,” he says and makes his way to fill a glass from the coffee bar with water from the bathroom sink.
“Awwww! You’re no fun…” he can practically hear her pout. Brows drawn up, pursed lips, watery eyes that looked ten times bigger thanks to her glasses. He definitely would bend to her whim if he could see her.
“I know, that’s why they call me doctor no fun,” he calls out over the rush of water filling the cup. When he returns, he finds Mel sprawled out on the bed, pancake style, holding her head. Groaning and rubbing her eyes beneath her glasses.
“Here,” he says, holding out the cup, “I don’t need to tell you that this will help, but…”
Her hazy gaze peeks out from under her hands, pushing her glasses up to her dewy forehead. It takes a bit for her eyes to focus on him, but when they do, Frank has to stop himself from commenting on how beautiful they look. Shimmering despite the shitty hotel room lighting and, you know, being intoxicated.
“How many drinks did you even have?” he asks instead.
“Uh…” Mel takes the glass and downs two large gulps of water, “more than five,” she admits sheepishly. Her face flush a deep shade that reminds him of a ripe cherry.
And Frank loves to sink his teeth into tart, juicy cherries.
“What am I going to do with you, Dr. King?” he hums, shaking his head, and sits at the foot of the bed to put as much space between them as possible.
Mel shrugs and takes another swig.
“You can stay till I fall asleep, I suppose? Make sure I don’t choke on my own vomit?” she says quietly into the cup, looking at him through lowered eyelashes and gently sucking along the rim of the glass.
Frank swallows. If he were a worse man, he’d crawl over to her and sober her up with his mouth. Drown her in kisses to those wet lips, scarlet cheeks and—
But he’s trying to be a good friend. Friends don’t take advantage of each other when they’re drunk.
“I can make that happen, but you gotta promise me you’ll drink all that water and some, yeah?”
Mel nods and gulps down the rest of her water.
“Fetch me another!” she jeers, waving the cup in his direction, in a mock British accent that Frank can’t help but laugh at.
“Of course, my lady,” he says in an equally ridiculous accent and takes the cup from her outstretched hand.
Again, he’s trying to be good.
@kingdonmacrofic langdonmel, 798 words light nsfw, infidelity, control freak mel :)
The first thing Frank hears is a loud POP.
He startles awake, scrambling around in his bed, confusion growing when he can’t find Mel.
But then he hears her, fumbling with something by the window.
“Oh, shoot,” she half whispers. He looks over and sees her holding a small tube right as he registers the confetti falling all around him, the pinks and purples and blues becoming bright and see-through in the early sunlight.
He groans as he pushes himself upright and blinks the sleep from his eyes. “Well, good morning to you, too,” he says with a smile. She’s still naked from the night before. Once Mel realized how much she liked skin to skin contact, she would start the night off in her pajamas—old, worn shirts of Frank’s and nothing else—but she’d always slip it off right before they went to sleep, curling into him. If he was wearing anything, she’d pout and pluck at his shirt or boxers until he slipped them off for her.
“Sorry,” she winces. So cute.
“What’s the occasion, sweetheart?”
“You’re telling your wife tonight,” Mel says, very matter of fact.
@kingdonmacrofic, day 1: "confetti" || 591/382 || rating: g, warnings: implied infidelity KINDA
director's cut (i wrote too much at first) of a microfic posted on ao3 here
It’s funny how standing outside of the Langdon family’s front door feels identical to standing on the edge of a cliff. To let her finger hover over their doorbell before ringing it is to look down and see just how far she can fall, but she holds her breath and goes for it anyways, setting off an enthusiastic round of goldendoodle barks.
When the door swings open, Frank keeps the beast at bay with his one foot and ushers her in quickly. “I know it’s maybe a jump to say that you’re going to be the expert just because you and Becs do jigsaw puzzles, but you’re kinda–”

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november 2025 microfics, day 29: soup | 1,068 words | rated g (part 4 of the author!frank universe [parts 1, 2, and 3])
for the @kingdonmicrofic @kingdonmacrofic challenge
Mel’s used to them by now. The nicknames. Trinity’s come up with a few different ones over the years, but she has her go-tos: melly, melatonin, mel bear. They’re kind of cute—and Mel knows she’s only teasing, anyway.
But Yolanda hadn’t been teasing earlier, when she’d elbowed past Mel into Trauma One and sniped, “Watch it, Sunshine.”
@kingdonmicrofic @kingdonmacrofic
Day 29: Soup | G | WC: 529 | AO3
“What do you think?” Frank probes, his voice low, eyes reading the lines formed between her brows.
“Does she really?” Mel replies with a hint of doubt. She looks at Frank, hoping to hear an answer that would soothe her worry.
“Really,” Frank nods, then reaches for her hand. “But you don’t have to, Mel, if you—”
“No, I want to.”
Mel tried to wipe the moisture formed on her palms with her back pockets. Checking the strands of her hair, switching the hold of the flower bouquet in her arms, whispering I got this to Frank when he tries to help her. She could feel her heartbeat, and her nerves rattled. It felt like a dream, floating by the clouds, standing by the doorstep of their house, the welcome mat felt rough just below her shoes. She's just seconds away from meeting Frank’s mother.
A slight draft when the door opens, “There she is!” Instantly, Mel spots her smile, a dimple peeks near it. Her voice cheery, laced with excitement.
Mel swallows, briefly stunned, she offers her hand for a shake, “Mrs. Langdon,” she greets.
Frank’s mom immediately closes their gap and envelops Mel in a hug. The sleeve of the bouquet scrunches in between the two. Mel tries to hug her back, her hands gawky with movement until she hears Frank clear his throat, “Mom,” his telling voice.
Mrs. Langdon laughs as she lets go, “Oh, sorry, sweetie. I got carried away.”
Mel shies with her blushing cheeks, “It’s nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Langdon.”
She rests her hand on Mel’s shoulder, “Florence,” she responds, smiling warmly.
“Florence,” Mel repeats.
The Langdon household featured dark wooden furniture, matching the green wallpaper, cozy air flowing through. Mel’s eyes wandered as they strolled on their way to the kitchen and dining, passing through hallways that hung black and golden framed pictures of Frank and his family throughout the years. While Florence, in a continuous chatter as they walked, expressing her joy, finally meeting the girl her son couldn’t stop talking about.
The wood drags against the floor as they pull the chairs, sitting down and feeling the cushion, Mel breathes out quietly. Frank moves his seat closer, holding her hand, his thumb caressing her skin in circles. “You okay?” he whispers, leaning.
“Yeah,” Mel responds. “She’s great,” her eyes shimmer with a smile.
Clanging pans and cookware echoed in the kitchen until Florence entered the room, with a dish held with both hands. Steam danced above as she'd set the serving on the table, a familiar smell that Mel noticed.
“Well, I heard this is your favorite,” Florence sends a wink at Frank, “I hope you like it.”
Frank ladles the pumpkin soup into their bowls. The sides of the ceramic hot to the touch, Mel gazes at the orange thickness of the soup, a swirl of white from the cream, and a green from the parsley topping.
“I haven’t had this in a while,” Mel lifts her eyes to Florence, a teary look illuminates her face. “Thank you, Florence,” she says softly.
Florence flashes her a smile, identical to Frank’s, “Of course, sweetie, you’re family now.”
Kingdon Macrofic: Coffee
WC 2610
Rating E; mutual masturbation
@kingdonmacrofic
I'd love to call you dad
Chapter 1: Family
Day 27 of @kingdonmacrofic
Rating T | 1194 words | Past one night stand, and its consequences, Unplanned Pregnancy, Past Infidelity, Time Skips, Angst with a Happy Ending, Post-Season/Series 01, Future Fic, mentions of depression
After Pittfest, Mel and Frank find some comfort in each other's arms. Eight years later, young Helen King asks her mom about her father.
👩🏼👧🏻❓👨🏻
“Mom?”
Mel looks at Helen, sitting upright on the couch next to her. At seven, her daughter is the joy of her life, always eager to help, with an unbound creativity and a great diligence in her work. Mel loves her with all her heart, and that love beats all the pain she’s gone through during her pregnancy and the first year of Helen’s life.
“Yes, Helen?”
Helen seems to hesitate, before she gives her hand for Mel to hold, like she does every time she wants to talk about something important. Mel has noticed that her mood wasn’t as bright as usual in the past few weeks, but until now she didn’t get a clear answer when she asked her daughter about it.
“Do I have a dad?”
Read on AO3
gold in the sunlight
Written for @kingdonmacrofic day 27 | Prompt: family | ao3
Bright and bubbling laughter filled the orchard as Frank walked towards its source. One of his wife's maids straightened up at the sight of him, “My lord we- um, The lady demanded-”

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let down my guard tonight
DAY TWENTY SIX: FLANNEL
The Pitt, Mel King/Frank Langdon, 1.8k words, Magical Canon AU for @kingdonmacrofic. Can be read independently, but in the same ‘verse as this. Rated T. Warnings for non-con drug use.
Mel stood in the room, wondering if she was really awake. She was on the night shift, which had been going by torturously slowly. Maybe she fell asleep? That certainly made more sense than what was currently happening, which was her coworker and good friend confessing his love for her while his wife looked on, the same wife who gave him magical mushrooms without his knowledge, prompting said confession.
“Hi, baby,” he’d said when he saw her, easy as anything, magic deep in his system. “I love you.”
(Read on ao3)
kingdon macrofic day 24: book
tags: macro!!!! word count: 1k
Seven photo albums. Her parents' wedding rings. Her grandma’s annotated Bible. Her mom’s stuffed bear from when she was a girl. Her dad’s first stethoscope. All that’s left as proof that the King sisters came from somewhere, from someone, belonged to more than each other at one point.
Kingdon Macrofic: Cinnamon
@kingdonmacrofic
WC: 1433
Rating G
He hoped he wasn't too obvious. Well, Frank had asked earlier in the week if anyone in the Pitt had a good pizza place recommendation. Hopefully Mel would not notice that he chose to go to the same place she and her sister went too.
Getting his children there was easy enough. Just the mention of pizza got Tanner to be as attentive and compliant as possible. Sophie just loved being in the car and liked observing new surroundings.
“Stay close to me, T. Don't want you wandering–”
“Dr. Langdon? Sorry, I meant–”
He turned around and saw Mel standing with Becca, right behind them at the register. Only, Mel got completely distracted by his “secret weapon”.
“Are these your kids?!” Mel blurted out, completely forgetting to finish her sentence. Tanner took a step behind Frank's legs but smiled as he peeked out. Sophie smiled at Mel from behind her pacifier.
“Hey, Doc! I wanted to check this place out after you suggested it. This is Tanner and Sophie.”
“Frank, they're so lovely! Oh, they're just adorable!”
“That's Frank?” Becca interrupted, brown eyes twinkling.
Mel suddenly flushed and stammered, “Oh, yes, sorry. This is Becca, my sister.”
Frank let it slide that she said the obvious but he smiled genuinely to properly meet Becca King. He once believed that he'd have to win over Mel's sister if he wanted a shot with Mel.
“Good to meet you. I've heard so many great things about you from your sister. It's really cool to finally meet.”
Mel, too distracted by the children, knelt at Tanner's level and grinned, holding up a hand. “I heard you had a really good report card, Tanner! Congratulations! I'm sure you worked very hard and are very smart.”
This made Tanner properly chuffed and comfortable enough to come out from behind Frank to return the high five.
“This is Dr. Mel and her sister, Becca. Dr. Mel works with me at the hospital.”
Frank had to hope this would work. “Listen, Mel, since we're all here why don't we all grab a table together? I mean, if it's OK with Becca. I'd hate to impose on your sister time.”
Mel gnawed her bottom lip and began tugging on her braid but when Sophie made an adorable squeal, Mel was sold.
“OK. OK, that sounds nice. Um…is it–” Mel faltered a little. Frank raised his brows.
“Is it OK if I hold her? I just love babies and holding them and it was a tiring day and she's so cute and…um, yeah. I really want to hold her.”
Frank was torn between wanting to kiss Mel or dropping to one knee and asking her to marry him. Wisely, he did neither. Instead, Mel flashed him a golden smile when Frank held out Sophie and Mel seemed to forget all discomfort towards him. He was definitely going to buy Sophie that Peek-a-boo Elmo, nevermind if it got on his goddamn nerves.
They were led to a table and although there was a high chair for Sophie, Mel refused to put her in it, waving Frank off when he warned her that Sophie would start attacking her plate. Tanner began to plead in a high voice that he wanted to sit with Dr. Mel. Mel moved Sophie to one leg and nodded to her left thigh for Tanner to sit.
“T, you're a big boy! We don't want to hurt-”
“No! No, please! I love this! I’m so glad he wants to sit with me too!” Mel gushed as she lightly bounced Tanner on the knee. Becca looked on proudly, “Mel is really good with kids. She’s really good at lots of stuff, like saving lives.”
Frank couldn’t stop the lift of his mouth if he tried. He wondered briefly if Becca was hinting he needed to make a move soon.
“How come Dr. Mel and her sister look so much alike?” Tanner wanted to know as Sophie tried to gnaw on the rubber of Mel’s Smartwatch. “Me and Sophie look different.”
Mel looked at Tanner as if he announced all her birthdays had come at once. “We’re twins. That means we were born on the same day and time and we’re sisters.”
Becca chimed in, “We’re like honey and cinnamon! That’s what our Mamaw said!”
Frank could see that, with Mel’s blonde hair and Becca’s brown, it seemed like a cute and Mamaw like thing to say. Just before Frank could say anything, the buzzer sounded.
Mel looked up and then her face fell. “Oh, you’re gonna have to grab the food but it’ll be a lot. I don’t think you should carry it all and the drinks.”
Bingo, Frank thought. This couldn’t be more perfect if he wrote this script himself. “Well, you look pretty comfortable where you are. I could make multiple trips and–”
“I can do it! I am really good at carrying stuff and helping people.” Becca clapped, beaming from ear to ear.
“You’re a good one, Becca. Thanks!” Seriously, he thought, thank you for doing exactly what I needed.
As they walked to the counter, Becca unexpectedly tugged his sleeve. “So you’re my sister’s boyfriend????”
Frank froze for a moment. “Boyfriend? Uh, Becca, sorry I thought–”
“Come onnnnnnnnnnn! You have to hurry up and kiss her! She likes you and talks about you all the time!” Becca groaned dramatically.
Frank’s heart turned to ice and his blood stopped. “Becca…are you not RoiAbeille?”
“What?”
“Do you have a Discord? Do you listen to Keeper of Secrets?”
He wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her. What the fuck was going on? He had been so sure it was Becca. King, B.
Now, Becca was looking at him like he had grown another head, maybe a few tails and some scales. “I think I’ll just get the drinks…”
“Sorry. Becca, I’m so sorry. I–” Frank shook his head and huffed, “I really thought you were somebody I knew.”
Becca just continued to edge away from him, casting a sideways glance at him. When they got all their food and drinks, Becca walked ahead of him by two steps.
Mel looked as if she was having the time of her life helping Tanner draw on the paper covering the table and bouncing Sophie on her knee. The conversation from earlier was forgotten when Tanner clapped and cheered upon seeing the pizza.
It had been so long since Frank had a nice and cozy time like this. Mel was fantastic with the kids, patient with Tanner's millions of questions and cutting up small pieces of pizza for Sophie. Becca and Tanner had a fierce but friendly Tic Tac Toe competition on the paper, laughing in victory or groaning dramatically from the defeats.
It felt like Frank had a real family again. A sharp stab of guilt went through him that Mel was so much more relaxed than Abby was when they went to eat out with the kids. It was not fair of him to compare the mother of his children to a woman he worked with…but the thought popped into his head especially when Tanner beamed and cackled his wild laugh at Mel.
Ending the night was hard but Mel smiled shyly when she handed Sophie back to him.
“D-do you think we can do this again sometime? I loved meeting the kids and Becca had so much fun. It felt…it felt like we had a family again.”
“Of course, Mel. Yeah, I'd love for us to do this again.”
Before Mel could say anything, Becca began motioning to Mel it was time to go and Tanner wanted the bathroom. At least Mel smiled at him when she said goodbye.
When he lay in bed that night, he kept wondering how he got it so wrong about Becca being RoiAbeille. King Bee. He heard of a queen bee but was there a king bee in a hive? Was it some Beyonce reference he was missing? His sister always called the singer that but he thought his guess was doubtful.
The frustration gnawed at him, almost taunting him for wanting to think he almost solved this mystery. Frank almost wanted to throw something at the wall in his disappointment but the thought of Mel with her honey gold hair and honey sweet smile blew the hurt and embarrassment away like smoke.
At least this, he thought. At least Mel wanted to see him again. He had to take the good when he got it and maybe he didn't need to know RoiAbeille if Mel was coming around to him.
Day Twenty Five: Cinnamon | 505/168 words |
TW: Married Frank, implied emotional affair
(I think i’ve tagged correctly but if not then let me know!)
For @kingdonmacrofic
Abigail Langdon was quite the baker. She adored crafting in the kitchen and sometimes spending that time with her kids, helping them learn the art of making buttercream, icing cakes or trying the batter before it’s poured into cupcake tins. She grew up on it, her grandmother teaching her a new recipe every Sunday, and it was a dream to pass it on to her children.
@kingdonmacrofic nov 24 prompt: book rated g 814 words
Yasmin sighed and looked up from her laptop, stretching her neck from side to side, taking a sip of her iced latte, before promptly picking up her phone and opening Instagram. After a moment of scrolling blindly through reels of matcha tres leches recipes, pilates routines, and a guy on a street asking people if they could fill out a map of South America, she dropped her phone and groaned, sinking her head into her hands.
It’s not like she wasn’t grateful for a job that paid five dollars over minimum wage and let her sit around all day without having to talk to anyone. It was a nice little reprieve from home, where her mother clucked her tongue and muttered about ungrateful American children and gap year, what is a gap year, your only responsibility is go to a good school we will pay for but you waste time instead, we were too lenient with you as a child. She had rewatched Bridgerton season 3, taught herself origami, prepped all her MSW applications, and finally finished a sudoku book she bought in 2022.
But it was Thursday, the light coming in through the windows was dim and grey, and she wanted to go home and curl up in a blanket on the couch with her cat, not sit here for three and a half more hours.
BZZZZZT.
Yasmin yelped and turned automatically to the monitor with the video feed, where a woman stood, wrapped in a long tweed coat and red scarf and a knitted hat with a cheery pom-pom bobbling above it all. She waved through the glass and Yasmin smiled and waved back, pressing the button to unlock the door.
“Hello, Mrs. Langdon!”
“Hi, Yasmin,” Mrs. Langdon said. She pulled off her gloves and took the pen Yasmin offered her, signing into the visitor’s log. “It’s so cold out today! You’re lucky to be in here with the fireplace. Fake fireplace, I guess. But it still looks nice. My parents’ house had a real fireplace and I miss it as soon as it gets cold every year.”
“It’s not too bad,” Yasmin agreed. “The last place I worked at kept the thermostat at like 68 degrees so I always had to bring a sweater. I’ll let Dr. Langdon know you’re here, if you want to go back.”
“Thank you,” Mrs. Langdon chirped. “Have a good day, Yasmin.”
She waved goodbye and Yasmin waited until she had turned the corner to the hall leading to the visitors’ room before slumping back into her chair. Three hours and 26 minutes to go.
At least Mrs. Langdon was nice, she thought, even if she rambled a bit every time she said hi. Sometimes people came in grumpy, like it was her fault their relatives or friends were stuck here for 90 days. Some were wary as soon as they saw her hijab, like this was Idaho instead of Pittsburgh. But Mrs. Langdon always greeted her and asked about her day. Low bar. Seeing her with Dr. Langdon was what really got Yasmin. She would stop by the visitor’s room to restock the mini water bottles or hand sanitizer and see them on the couch by the big windows overlooking the pond, heads bent together over cards or Mrs. Langdon’s scrapbook. Dr. Langdon would suggest a new theme and the next week they would pore over two pages covered in whatever Mrs. Langdon could find that matched his prompt, spending the whole hour talking about her receipts and postcards and stickers. It was sweet in a really corny way. Yasmin’s eyes always caught on how Dr. Langdon would reach out for his wife’s hands as she sat down. She wrung her hands a lot on her own (Yasmin assumed this was a stim but didn’t want to get too ahead of herself) but Dr. Langdon would let her wring his instead, tracing up and down his knuckles, shaking it when she got excited, squeezing around his palm and intertwining their fingers absentmindedly as they discussed something. It was like they were living in a romcom, doing all the things she usually watched on tv and sighed at, because no one did that in real life.
They’d probably been together for a long time. Mrs. Langdon came by at least twice a week, even when she looked exhausted and her hair was all scraggly and coming out of her braid or there was black ice all over the roads. She’d looked like that the first time she visited in January, and Yasmin asked how she was related to Dr. Langdon.
“My maiden name is King,” she had said, pointing to the visitor’s logbook where she had signed. “And I kept it because I didn’t want to go through the trouble of having it changed on my license. But I like being called Mrs. Langdon.” How romantic.

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and it tastes like life
DAY TWENTY THREE: MAROON
The Pitt, Mel King/Frank Langdon, 1805 words, Modern Magical College AU for @kingdonmacrofic. Rated Explicit
Mel knew they wouldn’t be the first dumb college kids to attempt to use sex magic, nor would they be the last. That didn’t stop her from wanting to do it, anyway.
(Read on Ao3)
| @kingdonmacrofic (wc 815) mention of injury, blood
Maroon
Fuck, that hurt.
It’s the first (and only) thing Frank registers as knuckles push against his temple. His body turns to liquid as he’s thrown onto the ground. He manages to lift up a shaky and uncoordinated hand to his left eye, wincing when his hand makes contact with skin. As he pulls it back, he can see the scarlet patches on his fingers through his hazy vision.
A blurry figure enters into his vision. The corners of his eyes are blurry but he can still make out the familiar face. Blonde hair pulled back and glasses framing her face, Mel’s eyes are knitted together, a crease indented onto her forehead. She places two warm hands onto his shoulders, and deliriously, Frank thinks he’d get punched every day if it meant she’d keep touching him.
Her lips are moving but the blood roaring in his ears is louder. His eyes are beginning to sting, and he can’t keep them open for much longer. Mel’s quick to lift his eyelids back open, flashing light at his pupils.
“Pupils…equal…reactive,” Frank manages to hear bits and pieces of the traffic going on around him. But then suddenly, her warm touch is nowhere to be found and is replaced by rough, firm hands picking him up from the floor.
“’m fine…’s all good guys,” he can hear the slur of his own words and it makes him frown. Stupid idiot, you’re supposed to be convincing her.
“You took a pretty nasty hit, Langdon, sit down.” That authoritative voice could be recognized anywhere, and stubbornly, Frank wishes it didn’t have the power over him that it does. He obliges. Robby’s hand on his shoulder is a stark contrast to Mel’s and Frank, honest to god, actually whines.
“Mel—where’s Mel,” Frank cranes his body to try and look behind Robby, but the pain that shoots through his temple is numbing, “…need to—is she okay?”
“Dr. King is fine, but we need to assess you.”
Frank shakes his head, despite the protests from his neck and temples, “I need to see.”
“Dr. Langdon, I’m okay. Please listen to Dr. Robby.” Mel’s head peaks out from behind Robby, and he’s definitely taken a bad hit because she looks like an angel, a white aura surrounding only her.
“The patient?” Suddenly Frank remembers how he’d gotten into this situation, and he’s a little glad he did because Robby’s looking at the two of them with that knowing look of his and he doesn’t need that right now.
“Taken care of, now let me see that eye Frank,” Robby cuts in.
After Robby finishes his assessment and prescribes appropriate pain medication, Mel still lingers in the room.
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
Frank’s brain is a little less foggy, thank you modern medicine, “you were in danger.”
“I’m a big girl.”
“I know.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“I know.”
“You could’ve really hurt yourself.” Mel’s moved closer to him, close enough that Frank can smell her orange-scented shampoo mixed in with the sterile scent of blood. Her hand comes up to tentatively touch the bruise on his left eye. It’s starting to darken, bursts of maroon and green blooming around his socket.
Frank’s eyes close at the contact, he doesn’t have the strength to hide the effect she has on him.
“It was worth it,” he finally says.
When he opens his eyes again, the expression on Mel’s face is one he can’t place. He’s just noticing the strands of hair that have escaped from her braid, the creases around her mouth, and he places his hands under his thighs to stop himself from reaching out to smooth them.
Mel bites the corner of her lip like she’s considering something, and Frank wants to ask but he doesn’t get the chance because her lips are brushing against his. She’s slow, hesitant, and it takes Frank a beat longer than it usually would but when he feels her begin to pull back, he frees his hand and places it on her hip. He presses her towards him and lifts his chin to kiss her properly.
Mel places her right hand on his shoulder and he feels the warmth of her touch spread to the rest of his body and catch fire. His other hand finds her back and scrunches her t-shirt.
He pulls back only a fraction of a second before he’s peppering her with small kisses. The stretch of their smiles makes kissing impossible, so Frank leans his forehead against Mel’s and breathes her air.
“That was so much better than I imagined.” Mel giggles and Frank squeezes her hips playfully.
“You’ve imagined?” Mel pulls back a fraction to tilt her head and look at him better.
“Yes, of course,” he breathes like it’s common sense, and Frank pulls her back in like a man starved of sustenance.
Mel’s imagined it too, a million times.