+ content: flirting, smau and dialogue, mentions of sexuality, single!black!fem!reader, awkward tension, FAKE PHONE NUMBER FOR THIS, use of y/n, slight jealousy but not really, might be spelling errors

wc:>2.4k

a/n; THANK YOU FOR ALL THE LOVELY RETURING OR NEW FOLLOWERS!! genuinely y'all are my sole inspiration for keeping this blog alive and thriving!! i'm forever grateful for your support and appreciate all the like and reblogs, it truly makes my day to get on this platform and express myself through my works and see people enjoy it. that's what makes me so happy.

-nicole <3

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you stretch your aching body with a groan. your shift was finally over; thankfully you could just go straight home today instead of going to your second job. after grabbing your stuff and heading to your car, you sat in the drivers seat and drove home in silence.

-

long days and tireless shifts left you needing more than just a day off.

since becoming a ms3 at ptmc, you knew from day one that you needed to work and grind harder than you could ever imagine. working long nights every other day at your second job; running off of 3-4 hours of sleep; and working in a hospital that keeps demanding more from you.

you knew this wasn't for the faintest heart. you quite literally went to school for it. but because you worked your ass off through college, and almost completing medical school, you had no choice but to bust your ass and finish to become a doctor.

just as you though it couldn't get any worse, your landlord decided to go up on your rent without notice. plus, your student loans were due around the corner, making your budget so tight to the point where all you could afford was to sleep.

much to your dismay, you had to decline any nights out with everyone after your day shift, just to get ready for the next shift as a server. It felt like college all over again. never truly having enough time for yourself. even on your days off you were doing something work related.

after making your money stretch after bills, food (barely enough for groceries for two weeks), and student loans, desperation creeped around the corner; haunting you with every purchase you made.

the thought of constantly worrying about how you would make the money back was eating away at your sanity. you couldn’t take it anymore. after 4 months of suffering, you decided to do something about the issue.

so, with that clouding your mind as you picked up the next chart for your patient, you made it your goal to look for a roommate. sure it would suck to move out right at the time were it was hard to set time off to move boxes, but you couldn't take another month with high rent that you were barely able to even cover.

so over time, you slowly started packing away your things; saving up your money; and started looking online for a roommate and a new apartment.

lucky for you, you found a 2 bedroom apartment that was about 15 minutes away from ptmc. this was way better than the near hour commute you had to take now. The downside,

you had to fine a roommate before you could say yes to moving in.

two weeks went by and no luck on the roommate part. you started to panic. The listing already had 2 people interested into renting it. in spite of your coworkers hearing you complain and stress about your situation, you felt stuck.

-

closing your apartment door behind you, you letting out a sigh as your aching body melted to the door, anchoring it with whatever strength you had left in you.

your tired arms drooped to your sides, letting you bag drop to your feet.

the silence was interrupted with buzz of your phone, coming from your jacket pocket. pulling it out, you hold it in your hand. the only glow of light illuminating your dark apartment besides the moon from a nearby window.

3 new messages from +1 (412)-834-2109

it’s like the universal was listening to your cries and pleadin of needing to find a roommate. relief washed over your exhausted body. tomorrow you can meet with victoria; contact the lister; and get a tour of the apartment to have it all set up.

this was a good start.

maybe you could feel a bit better now.

you didn’t know her much, but you knew her well enough to know that she’s great at her job. you could talk to her about how soon she’s able to move out.

even if you had to help, at least you had everything situated. you were almost practically already living in boxes, just waiting for the right time to jump to move out of your current apartment.

that's tomorrow’s problem. you kicked off your shoes at the door; tossed you dirty scrubs in the hamper; and took a hot shower to soothe your sore body. after that you hit the sheets.

tomorrow is another day.

a better day.

—

victoria pov

this was perfect. it’s not that she was being nosy or anything when she overheard you mention that you needed a roommate; she just simply was there at the right moment in time. 

victoria had actually planned to move out for a while. plus she was 21 already and desperately needed to get out of her parent’s house. so when she went to dennis after shift to get your number, her fingers were crossed, hoping for a yes.

she didn’t know you too well to call you a friend. but she wanted too. maybe she was too shy to admit it, but deep down, she knew she felt something for you. it started off as simple observation. 

staying close nearby because you both arrived at the ptmc at the same time as dennis and trinity; it made it easier to talk to you because you both were MS3. 

because of that, you were often paired together; mostly to help each other out.

whether that was intentional or not, she truly tried to keep her composure. 

you were beautiful, there was no denying that. and because you were smart in ways that made her think “why didn’t i think of that?” that was even more attractive too.

she ignored the first time you brushed her shoulder. being in the emergency department didn’t exactly mean you you have personal space all the time. to get serious you had to get close, especially if robby or one of the senior residents wanted you close for a teaching moment to share to everyone. 

but when you hovered close to her to see dr. mohan demonstrate a suture method on a patient, her brain short circuited for a moment when she could feel you body heat radiating near her. 

the soft smell of the brown sugar and vanilla perfume and the subtle hints of mint from your braids had her spiraling. 

she wasn’t exactly sure how to make out this feeling. she wasn't exactly sure if you were gay or not and that worried her. misunderstanding friendly gestures could make you uncomfortable; most certainly it sure as hell would embarrass victoria.

plus you were coworkers, and getting rejected by a coworker could be even more awkward. but just those moments made her want to know you even more; yet she was too flustered to even ask to hang out with you. 

and when she did, you declined, mentioning how you had to get ready for your other job. 

she didn’t take it to heart when you declined. but that didn’t stop her for trying to find another way to get to know you. 

so, when she she over heard you mentioning that you were looking for a roommate, she immediately asked dennis for your number. 

-

she was anxious. should she text you right away? her shift ended a while ago and she wasn’t sure if you had work. she could just wait till the morning. victoria decided to just text you, against her better judgment. she sent the text. 

3 actually. 

maybe that was too much. 

either way, she sent it; eager for you reply she decided to just get ready for bed. it was already almost 11 and you probably weren’t going to see it if you had work or something. 

so she put her phone down, the darkness of her room engulfing her. you were probably already sleeping. 

ding!

she grabbed her phone with urgency, checking the most recent notification. her heart flipped as she read your message. she responded quickly and so did you. 

afterwards, victoria put her phone down, a silly smile left on her face for the rest of the night. 

—

the first thing she could think of as soon as she woke up was to text you 

victoria didn’t get an immediate response. it was definitely too early. so, she stretched her stiff body and got up to get ready for the day. 

-

just as she was drying her hair from the shower, her phone pinged as the notification rang through the bathroom. victoria’s heart preformed the same flip from last night, putting a soft smile onto her face. 

right on queue her stomach grumbled. she was kinda hungry. plus if you were going to be her soon to be roommate, she might as well see how good you can cook. 

-

victoria was quicker to respond that she expected. with a smile, she got ready quick. 

well, quick was an understatement. 

she changed her outfit about 4 times before she settled on a old loose band tee that she got years ago and denim shorts. she left her hair down, putting her claw clip on her purse. 

she tossed on a pair of socks and some old sneakers that were comfortable. before she left she sprayed one of her many random floral perfumes on her dresser and made her way to your place. 

- 

nervously, she stood at your door. with a sigh, she lifted her hand and knocked on the door. as she stood there she thought over how she could greet you.

should she hug you?

no, that was too friendly. you both weren't at that stage yet for physical contact. 

too distracted on how she could settle on a gesture to hear the door unlock, it swung open. and there you were; standing before her.

your braids were swept away from your face in a messy updo, like you had your hair up the day before, just a bit more free; like you had just woke up a minute ago.

you wore a loose shirt that appeared to have a school mascot on it. assuming it was yours and the year you graduated. along with that you had on some loose fitting pajama shorts on and some silly pizza socks on.

you looked calm and domesticated.

completely different from the version of you in your scrubs.

realizing she'd been staring at you a second too long, she bashfully waved her hand. "hi, i- good morning." she stumbled. you smiled, opening the door wider.

"good morning." 

victoria stepped in, taking off her shoes and set them neatly near the front door.  looking around, it was small and bare, like there was comfort there before but stored away for transition. she could see some boxes in a corner of the living room, adjacent to the kitchen. 

the kitchen, to her left, housed a small round table with four chairs. 

"you can sit at the table."

 she obeyed, following you into the kitchen. as she sat down, she couldn't help but stare. watching you grab what you need from your cabinets and fridge, navigating the kitchen with ease and control.

she felt, envious? like you had everything under control, because it was yours; something you worked hard for but desperately wanted to get rid of. but the envy was soon replaced with respect. respect in a way that the wanted for herself.

"i can pay for my portion of the rent." she blurted.

you turned to her, your expression was unable for her to read.

"i just got a job that pays well. I made an agreement with my parents that I could handle myself. they still pay for my schooling but everything else is up to me."

"shit", she thought to herself.

it probably sounded like she was rubbing it in your face that she's a nepo baby.

well, she was a nepo baby. but she didn't really want it to seem like money was all she cared about. because it wasn't.

"i don't doubt that. you're an adult."

you words stunned her for a second. her parents always wanted something from her. like she always had something to prove. in this moment with you, felt that you believe her without second guessing. like she was capable of handling it on her own without needing someone to baby her.

"what would you like to drink? coffee? tea? water? I also have juice." you said as you opened the fridge.

"tea is okay."

"is there anything you can't have? any allergies?" you questioned. victoria shook her head no, and that put a smile on your face. in return, it shyly put one on hers. 

"perfect."

-

you were right, the food was amazing and she was impressed. "wow that was great. I don't think I've had anything as good as that in a while." she complimented.

she wasn't lying in the slightest. not truly having time to have a sit down breakfast, this was by far the best she's had. across from her, you let out a lighthearted laugh. "tell me about it. I miss cooking food for myself. I never have time nowadays to do anything." 

the air felt content. 

the conversation was light and you both were getting along well.

"thank you for the food. I really enjoyed it." she complimented again. "its no problem, really." you brushed her off lightly. "it's the least I could do. you really helped me out here. I was honestly so glad you messaged me. I've been looking for a place and a roommate for a while. my landlord went up on the rent and it's this whole big thing." you sighed.

she felt bad. victoria could tell that there was something going on with you earlier before you could explain it. you always looked somewhere else when you thought no one was looking. like you were thinking too hard about something that she couldn't quite figure out. 

"you actually helped me" she gave a rebuttal. "i've been looking for somewhere to move because my parents are driving me crazy. they're kinda controlling and it's making me feel like a child all over again."

"I get that. I made a few calls before you got here. I already got all the details worked out with the new landlord and tomorrow she said she can give us a tour." this was good. victoria nodded. "that's actually pretty amazing how quick that is."

"yeah I'm surprised myself. I can help you move you stuff if you need." you suggested. she was eager and agreed. 

maybe it was a coincidence that you both needed something new.

 a fresh start.

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Word count: 4.46k

Warnings: reader is sort of a perv, I won't lie; alcoholism, mention of functional alcoholism, reader gets drunk, confession of feelings, but it's not reciprocated, Victoria begs reader to kiss her at one point, hangover mentioned, domesticated bliss, Victoria and reader cuddle but platonically

🎵 - Sunshine Baby

You told yourself you’d be good this time. You really did.

This year, you were gonna get sober and stay sober.

You had a new residency at the PTMC, a new two-bedroom apartment, and a new car. You were doing well with money, and, most importantly, you had a new outlook on life.

Your friends adored you; you even had a few best friends you could count on from time to time. Victoria Javadi in particular.

You two were the same age. 20 turning 21. You were turning 21 in May, and she would be 21 in July. Both of you had plans for one another. You knew about her aversion to having a birthday, and you two had bonded over that fact. You also hated celebrating your birthday. It was a sour subject for both of you.

In the past, the farthest you’d go was getting a cupcake from the nearby grocery store, maybe sticking a candle in it, and then simply eating it like it’s nothing but a dessert.

So you and Victoria had decided to hang out on your birthday. You two would just watch your favorite movies, eat snacks, and you would cook dinner for the two of you. It’s honestly something you guys did every Saturday, so it wasn’t like it was anything special.

She told you she might bring you a small cupcake she baked, but that was about it.

Since the day wasn’t anything to you, you just decided to work. The date had popped up on Dana’s calendar, however, as apparently she puts everyone’s birthdays in her computer AND phone calendar, and you had gotten a great big ‘Happy Birthday’ when you walked in that morning from her.

Which barrel rolled into other people coming up, slapping your back, and congratulating you. It was exhausting having to tell everyone over and over again, ‘Nope. I’m not doing anything. Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s my 21st birthday, I know. Special day, ahh yeah. Nope.’ Every time.

You knew no one understood, even when you tried to explain it. The only person who did was Victoria. It was nice having someone who understood. You knew Victoria had her mommy issues, and you had yours. While both mothers loved to hurl disappointments at their children, your mother’s speeches were more slurred and discombobulated with insults tacked on.

It hurt. It always hurt. And you would never forget. Everyone you’ve ever talked to has told you ‘But time heals’ and ‘you’ll forget about those things. Be the bigger person,’ but you never did. You never forgot your mother’s insults, your mother’s words.

And neither did Victoria. Her mother is constantly undermining her, demeaning her, the typical helicopter parent. An elitist asshole, in your own opinion.

You often found Victoria crying in the farthest bathroom stall, curled in on herself as she sat against the wall after her mother had come down for a ‘visit’. Really, it’s just to see what Victoria is messing up and berating her on it. You often wonder why Robby hasn’t said anything about it. It’s clearly weighing on Victoria’s shoulders.

She sometimes goes out of her way, Victoria, to hide somewhere her mother will not find her.

The two of you have spent many a night chatting on the sidewalk of the ambulance bay, bonding over horrible experiences with each other.

And over the months, it had certainly delved into something else. For you, anyway. It had gone past the friendship part. You loved talking to her, you got excited waking up in the morning, knowing she would be there today. While you loved everyone on the morning shift, you were always a bit quieter when it was Victoria’s day off.

But you knew nothing could happen. Even after the multiple close encounters she’s had with you; Her getting too drunk and asking to feel what it’s like to kiss a girl, after you had told her you had been kissing girls since the ninth grade. ‘Please? Kiss me, c’mon. Please? And you had to remember that you were 100% sober and absolutely could not do that to her.

Her getting ready at your apartment, wearing a mini skirt, and she had reached for a glass to pour some water in. You sat on the seat of the kitchen island, your fist pressed up against your mouth to stop from groaning as you caught a peek of her thighs, then her ass, and then the dark color of the thong she was wearing that was peeking out.

One time, she pulled you into the nearby coat closet. She had sectioned you off, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into a vacant room as she spotted her mother. There wasn’t much room; in fact, there wasn’t any room at all.

She stood right in front of you, right against you. She just stared up at you, seemingly unaware, as you’re positive your face was heating up.

“What are you doing?” You had asked her, in a whisper, of course.

“My mom!” She responded, as if it was obvious. And it was, you knew why she had dragged you in here, but you didn’t know why she had dragged you in here.

“You couldn’t have picked any other place?!” Your hands were on her shoulders at the start, but they had somehow shifted down to her waist.

“Oh my god, are you claustrophobic? I’m so sorry-!” Victoria began, but you stopped her.

“It’s fine. It’s okay. I-I’m not claustrophobic. It’s just…I…” You had to scramble for an excuse. “I hate the dark.”

But that did not work out in your favor. Or maybe it did. Because she tried to hold you in the small room that both of you had, to try and make you feel at least a little better. However, all it did was make your body temperature rise. And being a studying doctor, she felt it too, assuredly.

So after that, you’ve tried to step back a little. Sure, it seemed like you were avoiding her at some points throughout the day, but you felt it was somehow better that way. Of course, you still talked to her and went on coffee runs in the morning, but there was no more joining her at bars, no more of her dragging you into nearby closets, none of that.

Because you promised yourself you would be good.

But Victoria had moved in with you, an attempt to get away from her mother, and while you loved it, there’s also the fact that you still had a big fucking crush on her that honestly was not going away anytime soon. You had to drop the ‘staying away’ act. Especially now that she’s walking around most of the time in a t-shirt and shorts that ride up some whenever she reaches for a glass or a plate.

You had to keep reminding yourself in the mirror every morning, ‘Be good, be good, be good. You have to be good.’

But that all came crashing down in a matter of days by a simple phone call you hadn’t bothered to pick up.

“Have a good birthday. Kind of forgot your birthday was today, had to check on my calendar. Then your grandmother came by and asked what we were doing. Had to tell her I forgot. Anyway, hope you get a cake or something. I don’t know. You were never a fan of your birthday when you were little, so I guess why would you start now?”

That night was your first night drinking in a long time.

You got really, really drunk and somehow ended up on the bottom of your kitchen floor. Victoria was coming home soon. It was your day off, but Victoria had to pick up a shift. However, she had promised you she would be home on time with arms full of snacks, and you two could start the movie.

Instead, you decided to call her in your drunken state.

“Hey!” she answers. “I’m on my way! I’m just at the 7/11 nearby getting our favs-”

“Coooollll,” You respond, your words a little slurred. And she can hear it.

Her excited words stop and are replaced by tentative breaths. “Are you okay?”

“Mmmm.” is all you can answer with.

“Where are you?”

“Where ‘r you?” Your eyes close as you wait to hear her voice. Your fingers thrum on your stomach, feet kicked out in front of you.

“I just told you. I was just about to head over for our movie and snack night. Are you home right now? A-are you safe? You’re safe at least, right?”

“Ummmmmm,” You hum, your eyes opening again and trying to focus on the ceiling above you. “Think so?”

“Are you at home?” Her voice becomes more urgent, asking the question again.

“Why? You wanna come over?” You smile at your horrible attempt to try to flirt. But Victoria doesn’t take it like that. Also, she lives with you. “I have a bottle of alcohol with our name on it,” you slur, picking your head up off the floor to glance at the bottle of Tequila lying on the ground. Empty. “Mmm, maybe not. Must’ve drank it’all.”

“Oh god. Okay. You’re at the apartment, right?”

“Yupa.” Your head feels like it’s floating. It’s nice. Really nice.

So Victoria arrives, the key you had given her a few months ago sounds in the lock before it clicks open, and the door creaks as it slowly drifts wider. The light from the hall shines behind Vic, and she’s looking down at you with something more than pity.

“Oh no.” She says, and it has you trying to get up. She drops to her knees to help, gently coaxing you into a sitting position. “Okay, um, I don’t know much about helping with drunk people, but I’m a doctor, so how hard can it be, right? Med school was assuredly harder.”

She’s more or less talking to herself. Hyping herself up. It makes you smile because she does it often. Under her breath when she’s about to go in for surgery. She’ll stand beside you if you’re there, whispering words of encouragement for herself, and it causes drunken you to smile at the memory.

You somehow make it to your feet, the discarded empty bottle now on the kitchen counter as she wraps one arm around your waist and the other comes up to hold your arm that’s currently slung around the back of Victoria’s neck.

“Vic, I can’t do it.” You tell her, staring down at the floor and your feet.

“Wh…what do you mean? It’s-it’s just the floor, right? I mean, I can try to carry you, but-”

“Just leave me in the living room.”

“But you’d have to walk there too.” She counters.

You glance over your left shoulder, and the living room is farther away than your bedroom right now. “I guess you’re right. To the bathroom.”

“Bedroom,” she corrects before making your feet move.

“Bedroom,” you agree, like that was the plan for you all along, instead of just falling asleep on the hardwood flooring. Your head falls forward and then sideways onto Victoria’s shoulder.

She gets you into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin. “We can celebrate another night, okay?” She prompts, her face at your eye level.

“I love you.” You breathe out. “You’re so good to me.”

“I’m your friend. Why wouldn’t I be good to you?” Her round eyes are taking in every dark feature of your face.

“No, no, I mean,” You’re trying to get the right words out, but with an inebriated mind, it’s not going too well. “Like…even when I’m not good to you. Like when I avoid you at work.”

“You avoid me at work?” She looks taken aback. Granted, maybe you shouldn’t have told her that, but the alcohol running through you is making you hold nothing back.

“Yeah.” You nod. “I like you too much. Like like you like you.” It seems so stupid to say out loud. It sounds like you’re in high school. ‘Like you like you’, ugh. Maybe you’re not even making sense. You’re probably not.

But Victoria’s gone quiet. Did you say something wrong?

“You’re drunk.” She tells you, and you nod.

“Yeah. Very drunk.” You smile.

“Go to sleep.”

“Going to sleep.”

———

There’s a nice note the next morning, stuck underneath a glass of water and two pills of Advil.

You don’t know what you drank last night, but god was it a bad idea. Well, drinking overall was a bad idea. You thought you were doing so well. But of course, your mother had to go and ruin it with a voicemail.

The voicemail itself wasn’t too bad; you could handle it. But it was all the pent-up emotions, the easy route of turning back to alcohol to numb everything, it was the fact that she had completely forgotten your birthday and told you you never even celebrated it as a kid. Which just isn’t true.

You loved your birthday as a kid. You adored it. You wanted the pretty pink birthday parties every other child your age seemed to get. You wanted a vanilla-flavored cake with white frosting and pink roses on top with cursive writing spelling out ‘Happy Birthday’.

You wanted all of that.

Except that the most you got was a sad ‘Happy Birthday Kid’ from your mother. Just the words. No cupcake, no present. It didn’t even matter if she had half the decency to pick up a card from the nearby Family Dollar and scribbled her name down real fast.

She didn’t even have to write a birthday message. Just cross her t’s and dot her i’s.

But now you don’t want a cake, cupcake, balloons, banners, pink roses, cards, anything like that. You hate the mention of your birthday, you hate the date, you hate everything that is associated with it.

“Feeling better?” Victoria’s voice comes from the other side of the door.

“Nope.” You groan, your voice croaking.

She laughs a little before pushing your bedroom door open. She’s holding a plate of eggs, toast, bacon, and what looks like a few slices of oranges.

“What’s this?” You ask, attempting to sit up in a way that doesn’t have your head splitting in two.

“Breakfast?”

“Yeah, but why? Should you be….like…at work? So should I.” You turn your head slowly to look at the digital alarm clock sitting on your bedside table. It reads 8:30 in little red numbers. “Shit.” You hang your head.

“I mean, yeah, I told them I was going to be late. I’m leaving right now. Just wanted to make you a little something before I left. And I told them you had a small incident yesterday and you won’t be able to attend work today.”

“Oh, thanks.” You reach for the plate filled with the greasy food. “Thank you, Vic.”

“You’re welcome.” She grants you a smile, but then it drops. “Are…you okay?”

You shrug as you take a bite of the bacon, delighting in the fact that it’s crispy but not to the point that it’s burnt. That’s the other thing about Victoria you liked. She always remembered how you loved your bacon cooked.

“I mean, besides a hangover, yeah. I guess.”

“Are you sure? You were a few months sober, and now you’re at the bottom again.” Your fork stops cutting up the over-easy eggs as she speaks. “I-I mean not like that! I meant, you had tried so hard. I know you were really trying this time. That’s what I meant.”

She blurts out, trying to save her ass.

“I know what you meant, Vic.” Your voice comes out quiet.

“I’m sorry. That sounded really mean.” She sits down on the edge of your bed and plants a hand on your knee. That’s when it all comes pouring out. You place the plate aside on the nearby bedside table and just crash into her.

Your arms wrap around her, your face planting itself in her neck. Her arms wrap around you, too. You’re trying to somewhat push yourself into her lap. You cry against her skin as she holds you, probably unsure of what to say. She never really knows what to say in moments like these.

She lets you cry it out on her shoulder, and when you eventually pull back, she looks at you with such a heartbreaking expression that it makes the tears begin to flow all over again.

“It’s okay,” she whispers, her hands coming to cradle your face like you’re some sort of broken, fragile thing. “It’s okay.”

She really is too good to you.

You sniffle and officially pull away from her. “Go to work.” You say, offering her a smile. The best smile you can manage before you feel the urge to throw up. She’s there to help you through it, as she knows being sick is a fear of yours.

Her hand rubs soothing circles on your back, helping you to ignore the churning of your stomach with each effort vomiting takes out of you. She’s there to wipe your mouth with a paper towel and hand you your brush and toothpaste to clean yourself up a bit.

She puts you back into bed, making sure the covers are up to your chin. However, before she can leave, you’re quick to grab her hand. “Vic,” you start, your eyes closed as you feel yourself back on the brink of exhaustion. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

“Have a good day.”

“You too.” You can hear the smile in her words.

“Debatable.”

————

By the time Victoria gets home, you’re up and moving. Granted, you still have a major headache, but you want to make something for her in return for her making sure you were okay throughout the day.

She even came home on her lunch break to make sure you had been taking Advil every three hours and hydrating yourself.

So now you were up, standing against the stove, mixing some garlic into the red tomato sauce you were sure to be stirring every other five minutes. The heart-shaped pasta is cooking on the opposite burner, and the garlic bread you picked up from the nearby grocery store is baking in the oven.

You smile to yourself when the lock clicks and the front door opens. Victoria is quick to kick off her shoes and let her bag fall to the floor before she even realizes you’re out of bed.

“Why are you out of bed? You’re supposed to be sleeping and taking it easy-”

“I’m fine, Vic. I wanted to surprise you.” You shrug like it’s no big deal. Victoria, on the other hand, takes it to heart immediately.

“Why? You don’t have to surprise me.”

“It’s for earlier.” You’re not big on affirmations through words. You like doing things for other people and then playing it off like it’s no big deal, but secretly you love to see people get giddy and bashful about someone doing ordinary, everyday things for them. And Victoria definitely gets bashful when you do things like this for her.

“For earlier? I was just being a friend.” She finds the whole thing funny- that you’re so grateful.

“I know, but you still deserve something for thanks. Especially with not…y’know getting mad at me and whatnot.”

She grabs herself a cup, not even out of her black scrubs yet. She fills it with water and comes up beside you, looking down at the thick bubbling sauce. “I’d never get mad at you. Looks good.”

“Thank you.” You respond, for both her saying she’d never get mad at you and for complimenting your cooking. “How was today?”

“Samira’s pissed you didn’t show up. She was left to deal with Robby alone.”

“I’ll have to text her I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, if she doesn’t kill you first.” Victoria begins to set the small table. Two glasses, two forks, two knives, two spoons, napkins, and two plates. You turn off both burners and strain the pasta before adding the noodles to the sauce. Your stomach grumbles at the different smells as you set everything down onto the table.

The garlic bread is next, moving to place one on Victoria’s plate and then your own. Victoria is practically licking her lips as the pasta meets her plate; her fork is in her hand already.

“Was it really that bad today?” You question, piling some onto your plate as well. Victoria is nice enough to wait until you sit down before shoveling the vodka pasta into her mouth.

“I think everyone was just upset you weren’t there. I didn’t…like tell them anything! I swear! They just miss you when you’re out for the day, that’s all.” She’s over-explaining, which is a tell that she’s clearly nervous.

“I didn’t think you did.” You shake your head. “I know I’ve said it a thousand times today, but thank you.” You look at her face. Her brown eyes and the laugh lines around her mouth. She’s always laughing.

Her eyebrows crease together as she mumbles, “No problem,” through a mouthful of food.

Sometimes, you think it couldn’t get better than this. You want it to be the norm. You want her to come home, or you, and see one of the two of you cooking, in nothing but a t-shirt and underwear.

You want to wake up next to her and not have to rush out the door for work. You want to wake up next to her. You’ve done it before, but that’s mostly because she had pulled you into bed, begging drunkenly for you to stay with her. You would oblige, sliding into the cold spot beside her warm body and staring up at the ceiling as she lay her head on your chest.

You wanted her to cuddle up next to you at night consciously. You wanted her to choose you instead of Cassie. You wanted to wake up to the smell of freshly brewed coffee in the air and Victoria sitting on the kitchen counter, wearing just one of your t-shirts and the pretty underwear she wears.

But for right now, you’d settle for this domestication bliss. A dinner you made, still half hungover, and an exhausted Victoria sitting across from you.

She helps you with the dishes and puts the extra food away before the two of you settle down on your bed. You’re lying against the headboard, your head propped up on the body pillow behind you, and Vic is lying beside you, your legs intertwined with hers.

A movie plays in the background, but you’re not paying attention. Exhaustion hits you out of nowhere, even though you practically slept the day away. And Victoria notices, as she gently kicks your leg.

“Mmm,” you mumble, eyes not opening.

“Stay awake. This is the good part.”

“Can’t….keep my eyes…open, Vic,” you tell her, struggling to open your eyes to look at your best friend.

You feel her shift, and you think she’s probably sitting up to hit you playfully on the arm or something, except you feel her cuddle up next to you, her arms tucked against her front. Your left arm moves to encircle her, and you feel as she lays her head on your chest.

“Is this okay?” Her voice is a quiet thing.

“Yeah.” You murmur, nodding. Your eyes are still closed, but you press a kiss to her forehead. It’s a simple thing, but it means everything to you. Your fingers run through her hair as you begin to fall into a deep sleep, per the rhythmic movements of your hand.

This feels so natural. Like something meant to happen. But you know, in the back of your mind, Victoria has a crush on Cassie McKay and not you. She used to have a crush on Mateo, but that diminished into nothing when she began to spend more days at the ER with Cass.

It’s not like you can blame Victoria, either. It’s Cassie. She’s a good-looking woman. But the heart wants what it wants, and it doesn’t want Cassie. It wants your best friend, and it wants her bad.

trinsant0s

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trinsant0s who's gonna tell 'em i'm a lucky beginner?

view all comments . . .

ynbrooks i won btw

↳ trinsant0s i won in spirit

cassiemckay Take good care of our favorite nurse!❤️

↳ trinsant0s on it 🫡

denniswhitt finally now you'll stop talking about her

↳ trinsant0s SHUTUP I HATE YOU

↳ ynbrooks no keep going whitaker

dr_j YAYAYAYYAYAYAYYAYAYAYYAYAY

tags 🏷️: @agirlinherownmessedupworld @tehecianatehe @girl-so-gay @likesomethingidk @coastalseasalt @gwhaley127 @findinglexie @heatedmentos @gracelxnd @yourstrulysecret @angi888 @butterpittcanlatte @sepidehmoafiglazer @pughsbelova

gabrielle sinclair... who took care of you during your freshman year. she already knew the ins and outs of the campus. she knew which parties to go, which dining hall had the best food, which professors were the best, and which people you should surround yourself with.

gabrielle sinclair... who you developed a crush on because she was so kind to you and she was so beautiful. you were so flustered around her, and she found it to be so cute because you didn't know that she already knew about your crush, and because you didn't know that she liked you back.

gabrielle sinclair... who was the first to admit that she liked you after a drunken night at a party.

gabrielle sinclair... who always gave you the cutest nicknames, your personal favorite was:

"hi, baby doll." she'd say in the sweetest southern accent.

gabrielle sinclair... who you call "gabby".

gabrielle sinclair... who helped you discover yourself sexually. you weren't a virgin by any means and you were comfortable in your sexuality, but having sex with her changed your life. you learned what sexual dynamics you liked. and she taught you everything you needed to know about pleasing a woman.

gabrielle sinclair... who was a sensual lover. she loved to fuck you nice and slow while a slow r&b playlist played in the background, but the music wasn't too loud because she loved to hear the sounds of your moans and your wet pussy squelching.

gabrielle sinclair... who you dated until she graduated and ended things on good terms. you loved and cared for each other dearly, but you both had a mutual understanding that long distance wouldn't work for you two, and you both agreed to stay friends.

gabrielle sinclair... who checks in with you every year on birthdays and major holidays. she still cares about you, so why not make sure you're still okay?

gabrielle sinclair... who is in pittsburgh for a couple months for work and decided to hit you up because you were the only person she knew in town, other than her coworkers, and because you hadn't seen each other in years so you might as well reconnect, right?

gabrielle sinclair... who's gonna take real good care of you until samira and jack come to their senses.

| do i wanna know? masterlist |

🏷️tag list: @mrsabbotthankya @friendly-neighborhood-boricua @cosmicneptune @donttalktosposts @itsoksnoopy @rqmantics @piscesfairyyy @manilovewomen1 @virgoalert123 @aurora0-0-0 @poeshumanity @aangelonearth @archxve @emxxiy @cassierins @abbotitts @braincellfugitive @saralovesjoelmiller @blurryboundaries @uhhhhokayyyyy @milflover-72 @thefemininemystiquee @capswife @jamie75sblog @squirreljoe @lovingly-insane @luvvvkay @lorosette @katsontherun @pinkpantheressluver @straykids1011

it was around 8 pm on a saturday evening. you were helping victoria get ready because she'd never been out clubbing and didn't know what to wear. you were determined to make victoria's first clubbing experience as perfect as possible. in true eldest daughter fashion, you adopted victoria as your little sister because she was an only child.

you were already dressed, and your hair and makeup were done. you wore a yellow bandage dress that hugged your curves in all the right places and accentuated your breasts, and a pair of black high heels. you hadn't been out in a while so you wanted to look as good as possible tonight.

you were excited to be going out for victoria's birthday and to have a good time with your friends, but there was a part of you that didn't want samira and jack to be there. on the outside things seemed okay, but you knew there was still some tension between the three of you. you knew that jack hated you, and you could tell that you weren't doing a good job at convincing samira that you were okay.

when trinity and dennis got to your apartment, they brought a bottle of tequila for you guys to pregame with. samira and jack arrived a little while after, and you were the one who opened the door for them. jack was carrying a bouquet of flowers and a gift bag for victoria, you were sure it was samira's doing. jack didn't seem like the thoughtful type to you.

when samira finally laid her eyes on you she nearly fell over because of your dress. the only thing samira saw were your breasts. your entire chest was out, so much that you'd might as well be showing your areolas. jack eyes wandered down to your chest as well and they nearly fell out of his head. they both became flustered at the sight of you, well your breasts actually. you didn't know that you had the couple in a frenzy.

"somethin' wrong?" you asked genuinely confused. "is the dress too much?"

"no, you look great." samira reassured you. "have your boobs always been this huge?"

you laughed at her then instructed jack to leave victoria's gift in the living room and guided samira into the kitchen where everyone else was. they were sitting around the kitchen island preparing to take shots. they all greeted the couple. samira joined everyone around the island and jack hung back, sitting against the wall.

he watched as trinity poured you all shots of tequila into some shot cups, then as you all made a toast to javadi and wished her a happy birthday. then his eyes were on you. you looked so happy. you were laughing at something trinity said and your smile was so bright. you looked so beautiful.

his eyes began to travel lower as you moved around in your seat, your breasts jiggled slightly. the sight nearly made him grow stiff in his jeans. he felt like a perverted old man, but he couldn't help it. all he saw was you because that dress fit you so perfectly.

"y/n, your tits are poking me in the eye." trinity joked.

"that's the point." you pointed to your breasts and bounced them a little. "the outfit is titty."

samira almost choked on her spit at the sight of them moving. she had never noticed your breasts in this way before. sure she'd always compliment you on how good you looked, but now she felt an urge she never felt before. she felt the urge to see you without that dress on and your nipples hardened from the cold air. her mouth watered at the thought of her taking one of your nipples in her mouth and rolling the other between her fingers. she didn't understand why these thoughts plagued her mind all of a sudden, but you wearing that dress was starting to drive her crazy like she was some pervert.

"girl, you're just trying to get some tonight."

trinity wasn't completely wrong. you had been going through so much shit lately so maybe an orgasm or two would help.

"she definitely is." dennis agreed with her.

"when did this become slut shame y/n time?"

everyone took a couple more shots before leaving your apartment and getting into the van jack rented for the night. according to samira, jack was taking his designated driver job very seriously. she talked all about how he brought a cooler stocked with water and gatorades for you all to stay hydrated after the club, and he brought a bag full of snacks incase anyone got hungry. he was even going to go inside the club to play as you all's bodyguard, and jack hadn't set foot in a club in years.

on the way there, you all were listening to a playlist from your phone, that was a mix of girly rap and 2000s pop. crybaby by megan thee stallion came on, and you went bar for bar.

"choke me, spank me, look at me, thank me" the words came out of your mouth so passionately.

jack looked up at you through the rear view mirror while he was driving, and watched you rap each explicit lyric of the song. he was thankful that he was approaching the club or else he'd have something to deal with in the club bathroom.

before going into the club, you went over the rules for the night.

"number one rule, no leaving the group if you are alone! two, if you see anyone wandering off alone snatch them up, but nicely, trinity. three, don't leave your drinks unattended, leave them with jack." you listed out.

when you got inside, the bass from the music was loud and made your heart thump. you found a few empty seats at the bar and trinity began ordering shots of tequila for everyone except jack. you all made another toast similar to the one earlier, and downed the shots. trinity ordered another round before leaving to get on the dance floor with victoria and dennis following behind. you stayed behind, wanting to wait for samira, who was talking to jack about something.

"you ready?" she asked you when she was done and you nodded. "you can leave your purse with him."

"i'm good." you shook your head and kept your purse on your shoulder, it wasn't big anyway. "might need it."

then you guided her by her hand to the dance floor, before she could say anything else to jack. the song that played was something from the early 2000s. you began dancing with samira. at first you weren't close, but your bodies gravitated towards each other eventually. you ran your hands over your body as you danced, not knowing that each time you came across your breasts your best friend, and her boyfriend, wanted to take you to the club bathroom right then and there.

jack watched as you and samira's bodies moved against each other. he observed how sensual your movements were. at that moment, all he wanted was to take you and samira home with him, but if he's being real with himself, you wouldn't even make it out of the parking lot before his face was buried in your chest.

jack and samira didn't know of each other's thoughts about you, but if they did, they might've actually followed through with their fantasies.

back on the dance floor, you slowly began to forget everything that happened over the last few weeks. dancing with samira felt how it did back then, when it was just you two. it was short lived when samira told you she wanted to go get something to drink, and for you to join the others and keep having fun.

truthfully samira was tipsy now, and that meant she was getting hornier than she already was before. she found her way to her boyfriend and immediately started kissing him. jack was taken aback by her suddenness.

"hey, everything okay?"

"yeah, i just really wanna kiss you right now." then she dove back in for another kiss.

you were dancing and having a good time until you looked over to the bar and saw samira all over jack. all you could do was stop dancing and push your way through the crowded dance floor to find the bathroom. you'd broken your own number one rule, "no leaving the group if you are alone", but everyone else broke rule number two by letting you wander off alone.

when you reached the bathroom, which was surprisingly not crowded, you pushed yourself into the nearest open stall. all you could do was breakdown. you felt like they were rubbing how happy they were in your face. they knew how much hell you just went through because of them and they decided to rub their happiness in your face. maybe you were overreacting? that didn't matter, your feelings mattered to you and they're constantly being stomped on. you told yourself that you should've stayed home, because you knew you weren't going to be able to have a decent night with them there.

after you were done crying, you moved from the stall and found the closest mirror to fix your makeup with a paper towel.

"pretty girl like you shouldn't be crying." a voice came from behind you, it was a woman who looked a little older than you. "may i ask why?"

"the reason all dumb bitches cry in the club." you chuckled out, but the stranger wasn't moved by your answer. "i was stupid enough to fall in love with my best friend."

the liquor in your system ended up forcing you to tell the woman everything that went down in the past few weeks of your life. you were in the bathroom for a while, and your friends were probably too drunk to notice that you were gone.

when you were done venting to the nice woman in the bathroom, who's name you never got, you made your way to the bar to get yourself another drink. jack was watching you walk towards the bar. you noticed samira wasn't there with him anymore, so you had no reason to go on that side of the bar.

jack watched you walk towards the bar on the opposite end of where he was seated. you knew he was there, so why wouldn't you go by him? you offended him because he would've paid for your drink if you had come to his side of the bar. he continued watching you as you ordered some fruity cocktail and as you pulled out your card to pay the bartender.

as you sipped on your drink, you hung out by the bar and decided to people watch for a little. a little while later, a man approached you. he kept trying to flirt with you as you were actively ignoring him. it wasn't that he was bad looking or anything, you just weren't in the mood.

jack watched the exchange go down from the other side of the bar, and so did samira from her spot on the dance floor. they saw you turn the man down more than once, but he just kept on going. samira slowly made her way towards you, in case the situation turned bad. she hated how such a sleazy man thought he could approach you in such a way.

"look, i'm not interested so can you leave me alone." you rejected the man once again.

"whatever, you're a stuck up bitch anyway!"

"your mom's a bitch." you snapped back and rolled your eyes thinking the man would finally walk away, but instead he grabbed your arm harshly, spilling your drink all over you, and told you to "say that shit again."

in a matter of seconds, jack practically flew from his seat, pushed the man off of you, and started throwing his fists at the man's face.

"hey? are you okay?" samira pulled your trembling body into her arms. "y/n, are you okay?"

all you could do was nod. samira felt so bad, because had she gotten there sooner maybe that would've never happened to you. she pulled you in closer and rubbed circles around your back.

"it's okay, i've got you." she cooed in your ear. "i'm here, you're gonna be okay."

thankfully jack didn't get arrested because he knew the bouncer, but unfortunately the night was over. the ride home was quiet. you were still in shock, but samira was still by your side, comforting you. you silently cried into your best friend's shoulder because you hated how some men could be so cruel and violent towards women. you hated how you were now a victim of a man with a fragile ego, and samira hated it too.

jack dropped trinity and dennis off at their place first before taking you and victoria home. when he approached the building he parked in the nearest parking spot.

"gonna get out and make sure she's gonna be okay." samira whispered to her boyfriend, who just nodded because he understood.

you climbed out of the van and helped victoria, who was very drunk, out as well. you helped her gain her balance as she began walking, and held onto her as samira helped you too.

"y/n, could we talk?" jack's voice softly asked behind you, before you made it inside of the apartment complex.

you turned your head towards samira, who told you it was okay and that she could take care of victoria by herself. you turned around towards him as the girls went inside.

"what did you want to talk about?" you asked as you wrapped your arms around your body, so you could keep yourself warm.

on the inside, jack so desperately wished he had a jacket to he could wrap it around your shivering figure. he thought to himself that it was because he didn't want you to get sick, obviously?

"i just wanted to say that i'm sorry about what happened tonight." he apologized to you. "that should've never happened."

"thanks, that all you needed to say?" you began to turn around on your heels.

"y/n, why do you have to be this way?" he questioned, and you furrowed your brows slightly because you didn't know what he was talking about. "i'm trying my best with you, and i'm getting nowhere."

"what exactly are you trying?" you replied. "i'm genuinely curious. what the fuck have you done other than antagonize me and ruin my relationship with my best friend? get over yourself, jack."

"y/n, i want us to get along for her, but you're not helping."

"i'm not helping?" you scoffed. "you wanted me out of the picture, so i left. samira was unhappy, then i had to come make everything better. i literally gave you what you wanted and you didn't know what to do with it."

the thing was, you didn't give him what he actually wanted, you gave him what he thought he wanted. deep down inside all he really wanted was you, in his house, with his girl, and with him. he had a terrible way of showing that though. jack talked about you and your ego, but he had a terribly huge one. he wasn't going to beg you to come back, he wanted you to do that on your own, but samira had other plans. she didn't tell him to ask you to come back, he knew that's what she wanted, and he did too, so he did because he couldn't bare it anymore. still he was an asshole to you. giving you mean glares and barely speaking to you unless it was hi or bye, because for one, he hated that you ignored samira, and secondly he didn't understand himself at that moment. he didn't understand his feelings, so he took it out on you.

"you wanna know something? i was hurting without her, but i was okay with that because i love her." you continued. "i have constantly put my heart on the line for her. i have cried every single day since that night at dinner because i was so scared that i was ruining her chance at happiness, because i love her, and because you treat me like i'm some kind of outsider. you hate me jack, and i'm okay with that because i love her."

"y/n, i'm sorry."

"you're not." a broken sob came from your mouth. "you're not because you love her, and that's okay."

"it's not okay. listen, y/n, i'm so sorry." jack shook his head and tried to approach you to give you a hug because he felt so bad, but you flinched before he could even reach out.

"don't touch me." you turned around and left him there to wallow in all of his guilt.

and jack felt so guilty. how could he make you feel like this? he was no better than the man who attacked you tonight. you didn't deserve to feel that way. then on top of it all, you endured everything because you loved samira. if he were any other jealous old man, which he is, but not how he used to be, but if he were, he would've hated you for confessing your love for his girlfriend.

it was because jack began to see you differently. he didn't understand it. was it even possible for him to love two women at the same time without feeling guilty? he didn't know, because the only thing he felt guilty of was putting you through hell. he didn't understand when it happened or how. maybe it was because you were at his house all the time? always being so kind and charismatic. always baking desserts for him and samira to have after dinner. always taking care of his girl and loving her unconditionally. jack didn't understand himself in that moment, but he was sure that he loved his girlfriend, and he'd managed to fall in love with her best friend too.

yet it was so unfortunate that you didn't know he loved you so much, that it came out as hatred. the line between love and hate was really that thin.

meanwhile inside samira was waiting for you and jack to walk into the apartment at any moment. hopefully being the best of friends after your talk, but when the door unlocked only to reveal you, her face dropped.

"what happened is everything okay? where's jack?" samira questioned.

"yeah, everything's fine." you lied, and samira was sick of you lying. "he's waiting for you in the car."

she knew when you were lying, so why did you continue to lie to her? you were most likely still shaken up from tonight, so why lie? why lie to her when she knew you in and out? why lie to her when she loves and cares for you so much?

"are you sure?" she asked, but you just nodded with a fake smile. another lie, but she didn't want to push you after what happened tonight. "i can stay here with you tonight, and have jack go home."

"no, it's fine." you shook your head. "go be with your man, girl."

why would you think she wanted to leave you alone to go be with him after what happened to you? but it's not your fault, you just didn't understand what you being attacked triggered inside of samira. yes, she always loved and cared for you, but she thought about how she could've lost you tonight all because of a stupid man's fragile ego. she never wanted to think about losing you again, not when you were her best friend. her entire world, really.

then it was the dress you had on that triggered something else. when she look at you and thought about how sexy you looked and how your breasts were sitting so nicely in that dress, her mind was flooded with thoughts that she couldn't speak of. in the back of her mind she wanted tonight to end differently. she wanted you back at her house, in her and jack's bed.

her nasty thoughts of you were sudden, but her love for you was always there. you just didn't know it, and for some reason the recent distance between the two of you made her love for you more intense. you ignoring her hurt her so much, but she was willing to forgive you because that's how much she loved you. yes, she was in love with jack too, but you were there first.

she loved both of you in the same way. that's why she's always wanted you to get along with each other. she was so in love with the two of you it hurt. it hurt her because she didn't think she could have both of you at the same time.

samira never wanted to act on her feelings because she didn't want to ruin your friendship, and your family had taken her in like she was one of their own. she didn't want to ruin that, so she played it safe. until now, because she wanted you now, more than ever, but she didn't know if you felt the same. all she could do was leave. if she didn't, she might do the unthinkable.

"you'll call me of you need anything, right?"

"yes, sami, i will." you assured her then she pulled you into a tight hug, feeling your breasts against hers.

samira didn't want to leave, but had to before she told you how much she loved you and fucked you right on the couch. god, her thoughts were tempting.

she left eventually and made her way outside to her boyfriend who was waiting for her, who also had the same temptations as her. you didn't know it yet, but you were thing your best friend and her boyfriend desired the most right now.

♫: party - beyoncé ft. andre 3000

liked by j.abbot, cassiemckay, parker.ellis, mel.king and 437 others

yourinstagram: victoria's 21st birthday weekend recap💕

tagged: samimohan, unholytrinity, dwhitaker7, victoria.j

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emmanolan: pretty girls💕

yourinstagram: tysm babe🫶

dana_evans: so cute! enjoy your youth while you can

yourinstagram: thank you☺️

parker.ellis: slide 9😩

yourinstagram: parker chill, yk i'm easy😣

j.abbot: y/n stop flirting with dr. ellis

d.whitaker7: 🫪

unholytrinity: watdatmean

victoria.j: thank you for this weekend, ily💗

yourinstagram: awww, you are so welcome ilyt💕

samimohan: gorgeous💕💕

yourinstagram: tysm🤍

j.abbot: i enjoyed babysitting you guys this weekend

yourinstagram: 👍

h.collins: i miss you girls. javadi's all grown up.🥺

yourinstagram: heather, come back we miss you too!!☹️

samimohan: london i know how u feel, i lost my queen too💔🫩

“Hey, Dr Abbot, can I talk to you for a sec?” He was meandering around the nurses' station, finishing up a discussion with Shen and Walsh. She figured now would be the best time to hash it out with him before something came bursting through their doors. 

Abbot always made time for his residents, even if he was dreading the topic of conversation. Trinity sure as hell didn’t appreciate the look that was passed between the three stooges, but she was on a mission now. He led them to the staff lounge, which was relatively empty since the shift change.

“Can I talk to you like you’re not my attending right now?” She was posted up against the counter, a pot of burnt coffee was still dripping behind her. Her arms were crossed like she was the PTMC bouncer, and Abbot was sure she believed herself to be the picture of intimidation. 

He let out a tired sigh. It was–what–8:38, way too early in the shift to deal with this. “I’m assuming this is about your sister?”

Santos gave him an exasperated look, as if she would have pulled him aside like this for anything else. “Either you need to buck up and ask her out or leave her alone, okay. My sister doesn’t need some dinasour stringing her along–”

She was expecting her bluntness to rattle him, but he’s not one to stir easily. The dinosaur comment didn’t even phase him. “You know it’s funny that you mention it, since that’s actually what I was in the middle of before we were so rudely interrupted.” Trinity took that with a grain of salt, a whole month, and suddenly she’s the reason Abbot couldn’t get his head out of his ass. Sure.

“Then why does she think you’re not interested?”

The look on Abbot’s face was almost enough to make up for all the doubles she’s worked this past month. “She thinks I’m not–what?” He sort of reminded her of a sad puppy, or one of those weepy life insurance commercials. 

God, men can be so fucking stupid, she thought. “Look, my sister, she’s weird okay,” only she’s allowed to say that about her though. “She’s never gonna think you like her unless you say it straight to her face. So be blunt, be bold, and don’t be a coward.” She should not be having to help an old man with dating advice, but this is her life now apparently. 

He seemed to finally snap back to attention. “Well, since we’re speaking so freely, your conversation with her in here the other day was completely inappropriate.”

Trinity’s eyes rolled so far to the back of her head before rolling back to him. “Oh my god I’ve already gotten third degree from Robby–”

“It was inappropriate, spiteful, and cruel Trinity.” She wondered if it stung because she actually respected Abbot or if it stung because she knew it was true. She knew exactly what she wanted to say, she knew it would hurt, and she had said it anyway. 

More than anything, it made her angry. “You don’t know a thing about me and my sister alright, you’ve known her for a month–”

“And I’m actively trying to get to know her better–”

Trinity would do chairs for a straight week if it meant she could get out of the conversation she started. This is what she gets for trying to play cupid. “Jesuuuus, listen, she’s bringing food by in a couple hours, make a move or stay lonely, I don’t care.” She did care, she cared about her sister. More than she could ever say. She also really cared about the hundred bucks that were on the line too. 

Her hand was on the door when Abbot spoke up again. “I can’t tell if you’re giving me your ‘blessing’ or actively telling me to stay away.”

She didn’t have the time to give him the peace of mind either, lives to save and all that. “Better hurry up and figure it out then.”

Good thing Abbot’s not as big a coward as she thought. Now she’s a hundred dollars richer.

“And you’re underthinking, okay, this is my–this is my first date in a really long time. Fuck, I feel like I’m gonna have a panic attack. Is that a bad sign? Should I just cancel?” Yeah, go ahead and cancel on the insanely hot doctor, like you’ll be able to do any better. Your mind had been unnecessarily steamy and spiteful today. 

You could hear her flop back on the bed. “Why don’t you just borrow something from my closet?” How the times have changed. You remembered her sneaking into your room, stealing your t-shirts and flannels. But God forbid if you asked to borrow something of hers, even though it was never clothing, most of the time it was something simple like a hair tie.

She didn’t mean it in a malicious way, but the offer still irritated you when you were already stressed enough as is. “Trinity that’s very sweet of you, but nothing in your closet would fit me.” It came out through clenched teeth as you violently swiped through the hangers. 

There was a loud groan before Trinity shot off the bed and practically shoved you out of the way. “Jesus, move over.” Her fingers were quick and precise, like she knew exactly what she was looking for. “Here, wear this.” She tossed a black turtleneck and a pair of loose-fitting tweed pants over her shoulder, casual and classy, perfect. “And these,” you barely had time to catch the shoes that were being thrown at you. 

“Ooo, okay yeah, yeah this is nice, thanks Trin.” 

“Yup…” you thought that she would have left as soon as she was done. “You uh, you want me to do your hair?” 

There was a pause where you both just looked at each other like the answer would pop into existence itself if no one spoke. After a beat, you bobbed your head up and down, not trusting yourself to answer without crying. God, when was the last time she had done that? You remember the last time you styled hers, it was for her graduation. But back when she was younger, she would beg you to play hair salon with her, every day ‘sissy can I braid your hair.’ There were always more knots than when she started, but you never complained.  

She directed you to sit at the vanity in the corner and made quick work, steady, but quick. “So, uh, I was probably gonna go out for drinks with a couple of people Friday, would you wanna come with?” There wasn’t a moment of eye contact during that question, and you had to tease her for it. 

You leaned your head back against her stomach so you were looking up at her. “Are you asking your big sister to hang out with youuuu?” 

There was a short playful tug on the section she held in her hand as she pushed you back up. “Shut up, are you in or not?”

“Yeah, not like I’ve got anything better to do.” You shrugged your shoulders like it was no big deal, but it was, probably more than Trinity realized in that moment. 

Now it was her turn to tease you. “I think you mean you didn’t have anyone better to do, but I’m sure that’ll change after tonight.” Your elbow reached back trying to catch her ribs, but she quickly side-stepped it. “You’ll let me know if there’s weird shit at his place, right? Or like a cliche kinky dungeon, I mean obviously I don’t want details but–

This time, your elbow did hit its mark. “Shut the fuck up Trinity.” 

The next hour was a mess. Trinity had taken to going through each bottle of perfume you owned to determine the right one for you to use. You could have sworn you saw her pocket a tester that held her interest, but you’d let that slide tonight. She also rifled through your closet again after you got dressed, occasionally asking if she could ‘borrow’ a few pieces. It was nice to know that some things still stay the same. 

Eventually, the two of you migrated to the living room. Trinity offered a shot for your nerves, but you reminded her that you were too old to be pregaming for a date. Still, you did take a sip of her tequila, which was apparently going to be her company for the night while you were gone. 

Your phone buzzed on the coffee table, and even you could admit you were too eager with how fast you picked it up. 

I’m downstairs, but don’t feel like you have to rush. He was early, that shouldn’t be hot to you, but it was. You were always the first one to show up for a date, always the one to have to wait.

Okay! Be down in just a sec!

Trinity looked playfully disturbed at how giddy her sister was. “Alright, he’s here. I’m gonna head out.”

She stopped you at the door, “Oh wait, here,” she reached into the pocket of her sweats and handed you a few condoms. “Swiped these from the hospital just in case. You can never trust men to have one, and if they don’t, they’re not even worth it.”

Was she just keeping those in her pocket the entire time? Probably best not to ask that question. You put your hand out to decline, but she shot you a look that told you it would be better to just take the damn condoms. “Thanks, Trin.”

You slipped them into your purse and couldn’t help but think about the possibility that you might end up using them tonight. “Hey, just–have fun, and be careful, I know nothing will–just be careful.” 

It always tugged at your heartstrings when your sister became protective of you. Still, this was kind of painful to watch. You’d hug her if you were one hundred percent sure it wouldn’t break her out in hives. “I promise I’ll text you.”

“You better.”

“Love you sissy.” You dragged out the declaration, voice syrupy sweet. 

She rolled her eyes and turned you around before practically kicking you out the door. “Jeez get the fuck out of here and get laid.”

You were halfway down the stairs when Trinity burst out the door, “Hey, did you forget something?” She held out the pan of lemon squares you had made yesterday. There was one missing, no doubt she grabbed it before bringing it out to you. Climbing back up the stairs, you thanked her for being a lifesaver, but she said, “Something tells me he wouldn’t have minded if you forgot about them.” You would have minded though, if you say you’re bringing dessert, you’re bringing dessert, inuendos be damned.

He was standing outside his truck, leaning against the door. A man his age should not have this much charisma; it’s just a dangerous combination. Still, you could see that his thumb tapped against his thigh near his pocket; maybe he was just as nervous as you. He was dressed in a dark blue henley and jeans that were on the lighter side. It was different from what you normally saw him in at the veterans center, but it felt like a treat seeing him out of his scrubs. 

As soon as you stepped out of the door that led to the back parking lot, he was making his way towards you. His eyes unabashedly tracing over every inch of you this time, no nosy nurses around to catch him. You’re glad that Trinity had pushed you to forgo blush because you could already feel heat rising to your cheeks. 

“You look gorgeous.” 

“You look pretty handsome yourself…” You trailed off as he leaned in to kiss your cheek, which you were worried might have scorched his lips from the heat. He smelled so good, so many notes on top of tobacco and clove, it was mouthwatering. 

Of course, you thought that he would move back after the kiss, but no, he lingered, and he–did he just sniff you? Oh fuck, “Hmm,” Jack Abbot just practically moaned into your neck, and now you feel lightheaded. “You smell good,” now he finally took a step back, oh yeah, this fucker knew exactly what he was doing; it lit a sort of fire in you.

“S-so do you.” Too bad your mouth couldn’t catch up with your brain around this man.

His barely there smile spoke volumes, no doubt he knew the effect he had on you. Like it hadn’t been completely obvious this past month. “Come on sweetheart, I promised you dinner.” His palm was pressed lightly against your back as he led you to his truck. You wanted his hand around your waist, his fingers gripping you tightly to him, but for now, you’ll take what you can get without scaring him off.

“Good to know you’re a man of your word.”

He looked down at the tray in your hand. “Could say the same about you. Guess you weren’t kidding about dessert, huh?”

“Oh, I never joke when it comes to dessert.” Jack opened the door for you, offered his hand and everything. To so many people, it would be such a small thing. Something to be expected or glossed over, but to you it’s a sort of wake-up call. Why should you have ever been expected to accept anything less when it’s so simple?

You allowed yourself a brief moment of panic in the time that he closed the door and made his way to the opposite side. Deep breath, deep breath.

“You warm enough?” The space felt so much smaller all of a sudden. Yes, ridiculously enough, and it’s not from the heat circulating in this truck. You told him that you were fine, that you tended to run hot anyway.

The fact that you almost swooned when he backed out of the parking space is just dismal. But he did the thing, you know, the thing where the guy puts his hand on the back of your headrest and backs out without a care in the world with one hand. You were certain that he intentionally flexed the arm right next to your head as well. How are you supposed to survive this night? 

Your heart finally calmed down when he dropped his arm and turned left out of the parking lot. Angling your body towards him, you said, “I got so used to seeing you in scrubs, was starting to think you only existed in the ER.” He hadn’t had a chance to visit the center either, what with the hospital being short-staffed this past month. 

“Yeah, there’s a whole underground basement system where they like to store us. Luckily, they let me out tonight for good behaviour.” Jack Abbot was a very safe driver; you figured most of the ER staff would be (Trinity excluded), considering the stuff they see on a daily basis. He didn’t go more than ten over the speed limit, always checked his blind spots, and not once did you hear the god-awful revving that you associated with trucks.  

“Definitely not beating the night shift are vampires allegation are you?”

He chanced a quick look at you. “Promise I don’t bite.” 

Your arm came up to rest on the center console, leaning in even closer. “Damn, I was really hoping you did.”

His knuckles tightened around the steering wheel, and his shoulders briefly shook with restrained laughter. “You’re trouble, you know that?”

There’s the side of you that can flirt, but it’s always been hesitant. Around Jack though, that side has never known anything but confidence. Except when he occasionally manages to short-circuit your brain.  “Only the best kind, promise.” You’ve never felt this secure so early on a first date; they’ve always been awkward and stiff, but it just feels easy right now. 

You were surprised to find out that he only lived ten minutes away from your apartment when he pulled into his driveway. He hadn’t mentioned anything when you texted him your address at the hospital. Makes things a bit easier, your brain supplied. His place was a beautiful, dark, one-story house that still held a love of the 70's; you’re sure that you’ve passed by it before and admired it. Small world. 

He helped you down from the truck and led you up the steps to the front door. The pressure of his palm on your back was firmer than before. One of the first things you noticed about his home was that it’s calm. It didn’t necessarily feel lived in because he was hardly ever here, but it also invited you in. It said come in and rest your head before you have to leave again, and it made you want to stay. 

His hand gently grabbed the strap of your purse, and it startled you for a second before you let it fall off your arm. He hung it up on one of the available hooks and grabbed the tray out of your hand, setting it next to the bowl that held his keys. Both hands hovered above your shoulders, a silent question of may I? So you dropped your arms to let him. How was he giving you so many firsts tonight, and it hasn’t even been–what–thirty minutes? “Alright, I’ve got steaks marinating in the fridge–”

“Oh, so you do know what you’re doing.” He hung up his own coat and took off his shoes. You followed suit, and then he was leading you towards the kitchen with your dessert. It was barebones but clean, sleek and modern, fancy appliances, but nothing extra littered the counters besides a coffee pot and a container for cooking utensils. It made sense for Jack. The rest of his place had much more character. Comfort definitely took priority when it came to the furniture. 

“I’ve got a beautiful lady to impress, and I have no intention of disappointing. Can I get you anything to drink?” You asked for a water, he grabbed a bottle from the fridge before pouring it into a glass for you.

“So how was your day?” That actually stumped you for a second. You were so used to asking Trinity that question, listening to the highlights for thirty minutes, or sometimes getting nothing at all and then having to wait for her to ask the same. For anyone to ask the same.

“Not bad actually, I spent most of it with Trinity, which was actually kind of fun. Even though she was being a pain in my ass for most of it.” 

“So things are all right between you two?”

“Yeah, Trinity is…Trinity,” he chuckled at that. “I think it helps that we live together out here. Makes it harder for her to stay mad at me. Plus, I’ve been supplying her with a steady stream of food. It’s the best medicine after all.”

He gave a comical questioning look. “Now, I thought that was laughter?”

“I supply both in large quantities.”

The distance lessened with a step, “I believe it.” 

You took a step in kind, “And how was your day Jack?”

“Well, I woke up knowing I didn’t have to work and that I had a date with an amazing woman waiting for me. First time I’ve woken up with a smile on my face in a while.”

“I like your smile,” it just slipped out without a thought. 

Now you were blushing, and his grin was turning into a full-blown smile. “I like yours too. It was the first thing I noticed about you.” He'd better be careful, or you might start to believe him. 

You tried to fight down the rising heat in your face by changing the subject. “So what’s on the menu tonight, Dr. Abbot?” 

His shoulders stiffened, and he shook his head, “Steaks obviously since I’ve got something to prove now, and we’ve got potatoes, zucchini, and squash. Sound good to you?”

“Sounds amazing.”

“Good. I’m gonna step outside real quick and get the grill started. Go ahead and make yourself at home.” He traced his hand along your waist as he scooted past you towards the sliding glass door that led to his patio. 

Of course, you had to take the opportunity to look around–not snooping–just assessing. Apparently, Jack wasn’t the type to hang pictures or art on the wall. Instead, he liked to keep his memories on bookshelves. There was a burial flag shadow box with a few small framed photos beside it and a dusty shot glass. Dozens of medical journals and textbooks with multicolored tabs sticking out of them. 

Eventually, you stopped at a photo of a younger Jack, and who you can only assume was his wife if the short wedding dress was anything to go by. They were in front of a courthouse, Jack had his arms wrapped around her waist as they smiled at the camera, petals falling from her bouquet. She looked like someone who could have been the people's princess, just a classic elegance. Nothing like you, your brain hissed at you.

Your disparaging thoughts screeched to a halt at the sound of the door sliding open again. Jack looked up and saw which bookcase you were standing in front of. You pointed at the photo in front of you, desperate to fill the silence right now. “Was this Lilly?”

“Yeah…” Jack had told you the bare minimum of his history with her. Actually, he only told you that he was widowed; you had to be the one to ask him her name. You figured if he wanted to tell you more about her than he would. 

 He looked far away, and you regretted ever opening your mouth. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–

Jack was quick to cut off your apology. “No, no sorry, you weren’t–I didn’t even think about the pictures.”

“Jack, please don’t apologize for having pictures of someone you love up in your home.” 

His eyes darted between the different pictures of them on the shelf. One of them where they were together at a graduation of Jack’s, another of them in front of beautiful mountains that they had just finished hiking. “I just…I don’t talk about her much anymore, at least not to anyone other than my therapist.” 

How do you tell him that you’re here, that you want to know everything about someone who was so important to him? That it doesn’t hurt you that he loved only that he lost. “I would love to learn more if you ever want to talk about her.”

“I’m not sure how to sometimes.” That you understood all too well.

Your arms crossed across your middle, a bit of comfort offered to yourself. “My lola, she passed away a couple of years after Trinity was born. She practically raised me, but I just felt like I couldn’t talk about her after she died. I felt like I would start crying and never be able to stop. But you know, Trinity was a baby, and eventually she had questions, so I just started telling her stories, and eventually–it stopped hurting. I think it’s because someone else was able to know her like I did, like I wasn’t carrying her memory alone anymore.” You knew that you were trying to make him feel better, but you also knew that it wasn’t the same, and you wanted to apologize for even trying to compare before you looked over at him. 

There was a hint of red in his eyes. “That’s–that’s really beautiful.” He shut his eyes tightly, slightly turning away from you, pinching the bridge of his nose like it would keep him from crying. “Sorry, not how I was expecting the night to go.”

You lightly nudged him. “Really? I was expecting us to unveil every bit of trauma to each other. Now I’m just disappointed.”  That made him laugh, it was a bit choked back, but you count it as a win. 

He nudged you back, but the touch lingered. “Can we at least save that for the second date?”

“Well, if you’re promising a second date, then I can work with that.” You’re glad that you can tease him like this. That a heavy moment can be just that, a moment. 

“I can go ahead and promise you a third one while we’re at it if you like.”  He offered while leading you towards the kitchen and taking out a cutting board from a cabinet along the way. 

“Woah buddy, now you’re just getting ahead of yourself,” you teased, leaning against the counter. 

He was quick and efficient in the kitchen, very entertaining to watch as he would dart from the fridge to the sink until he’d be back in front of you. “Right, should probably finish our first date anyway, it’s just good manners.”

You nodded your head in agreement. “Exactly, also I’m not used to being idle in the kitchen, so you need to let me help out.” 

“And if I told you to sit down and relax?” He was already halfway through slicing a zucchini.

“Never gonna happen.” As if he knew what it was to actually relax anyway. 

He laughed under his breath, relented, and asked you to grab the green onion out of the fridge for him. You walked behind him, hand casually dragging along his upper back, it thrilled you to watch him practically freeze in place. Only resuming his action when your hand fell away to open the door. 

“You trying to send me back to work for stitches?” The night shift would have a field day with that, you’re sure. 

The green onions were rinsed off before being placed next to him. You settled in beside him, hip resting against the counter. “Thought you knew how to handle a knife.”

He set aside the sliced zucchini and squash into a bowl before seasoning the vegetables. “Knife and a scalpel are two very different things sweetheart.”

“Noooo, and here I was thinking they were the same.”

His hands gripped the counter, leaning into you, voice husky and low. “You’re a bit of a smartass, you know that?” 

“You work with my sister, is that really so surprising?”

It took about thirty minutes for everything to be finished and for the table to be set. You had followed him outside to watch him grill the steaks. He looked like he was in his element, beer in hand, his only concern making sure nothing was overcooked. He joked that your ‘supervising’ felt a lot like hovering, and you playfully threatened to go back inside. There would be none of that since he took a page out of your book earlier and dragged his hand along your back, landing on your hip, pulling you impossibly close to him, a not-so-subtle kiss against the top of your head. Jack claimed you could supervise a lot better from there, but you were actually disappointed when the steaks were done.

The man wasn’t lying when he said he could cook; it just might have been the best thing someone had ever made for you since you were a kid. Of course, you were a bit biased since he had been the one to make it. Soaking up every bit of praise you threw his way but still claiming it had nothing on your cooking. You did, however, fail to notice the way his hand clenched against his thigh when he heard you moan at the first bite. The slight flush on his face didn’t hide where his thoughts had gone though. 

You traded stories, and some vulnerable part of you was worried that you’d bore him. Jack was someone who saw the impossible on a daily basis. How could your story of Trinity’s dumb friend shooting fireworks from the top of a tree and nearly breaking every bone on the way down compare? But he didn’t judge or dismiss; he laughed, and oh, his laugh was something else. It made you want to hear it again and again. He countered with a firework story of his own, non-ER related. He told you about the time he and a few of his high school friends were shooting fireworks over the house, and one landed perfectly in a beer can on the opposite side. They were young and ecstatic and knew that no one would ever believe them, but you told him that you would if it would make him feel better. 

There were moments where you held back a tale. Mostly the ones involving your sister, considering she would murder you if she ever found out you told her attending something he could use for ammunition later. He teasingly egged you on for more stories, said he’d promise to keep it a secret. You told him that he was really trying to get you banned from the hospital. Jack assured you that the ban would be lifted if you were coming to visit him.  

After dinner, you were leaning towards each other on his couch, knees brushing and faces flushed from smooth conversation. 

“Okay, can I ask you something?” Jack was reclined against the couch, his temple resting against his closed fist, arm bent along the back. “If it’s too much, you can tell me to fuck off.”

He shook his head, “Well one, I would never tell you that, and two, you can ask me anything.”

“Have you done much dating since Lilly?”

There was a deep inhale from him. You worried you might have overstepped, but he quickly replied, “No, it was never–it wasn’t something I would have even considered the first couple of years. I was in a bad way, threw myself into work just so I wouldn’t have to go home. Eventually, I switched therapists and actually committed to it, and things got…better. I don’t want to lie to you, I am very much still a work in progress.” 

Jack had been through a lot, most of which you’ve only started to scratch the surface of. He never told you about his leg, not that you expected him to. One day, you were both in the break room sharing the meal you had brought. It was a surprisingly slow night, though neither of you commented on it, and you had just finished reviewing program forms. There was no fanfare about it; he just lifted his pant leg and removed the prosthetic so he could massage the area, and that was that. It didn’t surprise you; it was a common sight at the veterans center, but it did make you admire him even more. 

You shrugged your shoulders, “That’s okay, my therapist would say the same about me. I think that’s just called living, but you know I don’t have the fancy degree to prove it.” 

He playfully waved it off. “Eh, mine came out of a Cracker Jack box, what do I know?”

His joke caused you to let out a deep laugh. “My grandma used to say that’s where everyone got their driver's license.”

He was laughing too now, much more subdued than yours had been, but no less warm. “Smart woman…now can I ask you a question?”

“Yeah, of course, pretty sure that’s how conversations go.”

“Smartass…so Meals on Wheels. Did you always want to do something in that ballpark?” 

“No,” his brow raised questioningly at the quick response. “I actually used to be in school for nursing, if you can believe it.” He was quick to say that he could, which felt like a compliment coming from him. “Yeah, it was uh–not my calling apparently. I was really struggling in all my classes, anatomy especially,” you giggled at the grimace he gave. “Uh, but then mom passed away, so I had to drop out and take care of Trinity, which actually felt like a bit of a relief in this really horrible way. So then it was just me and Trin and I was working two jobs, one with Meals, and I kind of ended up growing with them. It’s just–it was really nice to do some good when everything else was a lot, so I wanted to keep doing that.”

“You’re an incredible woman.” He didn’t say those words lightly, he said them like fact, like nothing could disprove it. You tried to brush it off, head turning away from him to fight the rising emotions. “I mean that…” in no world would he have you doubt him. It just made your eyes well up even more, and Jack saw that you weren’t just playfully brushing him off. “Hey, hey, I’m sorry.”

“No–no, you did nothing wrong, no one's ever–it was just really sweet, that’s all.” Jesus, get a fucking grip. Are you seriously crying over a compliment? The spiral stopped in its tracks as his hand reached up, gently holding your cheek, thumb catching a stray tear. He leaned forward, and for a terrifying moment, you were worried he was going to kiss you. You had been dying for him to kiss you all night, all month actually, but gosh, not like this. Jack surprised you once more; it was a kiss, but on your opposite cheek. It was beautiful and soft and grounding. He placed two more in quick succession before leaning back and dropping his hand to rest on your knee.

His smile could easily become a comfort. “I have a lot more compliments to give, please tell me you’re not gonna cry at them all.” Honestly, you weren’t sure you’d survive his praise, not when he made you believe in impossible things. 

You playfully swatted at his chest but leaned in closer still. “I’m terrible with compliments.”

His thumb circled your knee, tracing as much of the area as he could with where his hand was placed. “That’s alright, just means I’ll have to get you used to them.”

“Something tells me that you have a hard time accepting them too.” Your hand landed next to his arm, just a graze of your fingertips.

“Well, we’re not talking about me now.”

You wondered what it would take to get him flustered. “Hmm, so what if I told you that I find you extraordinary? That every time you would get pulled away from our conversations, you somehow got even sexier, no matter how disappointed I was.” You could feel gooseflesh along his forearm that you had been idly tracing. He was turning so red. “Jack Abbot, are you blushing?”

He cleared his throat and stood up, “Think those lemon squares are calling my name.”

You were in a fit of laughter on the couch as you watched him devour one in two bites. “Oh, well let me know how they are then.” Part of you was worried he might choke on the dessert. 

“Fucking menace,” he mumbled through the mouthful. You asked him if they were good, his only response was, “Delicious.”

It was getting lonely on the couch now. “I promise I won’t tease you if you come back.”

He brushed away any leftover crumbs before settling in next to you again, much closer than before. “Uh-huh, I highly doubt that.” His hand came up, brushed away a flyaway from your temple, and then his touch stayed there. A steady movement while his eyes traced over every inch of your face, he wanted this image of you printed and hung up in his mind. The way you looked right now, cheeks flushed, relaxed on his couch, in his home. You’re so beautiful to him. 

“You gonna kiss me Jack?” 

“Only if you’ll let me–” you couldn’t wait any longer. There was zero shame in the way you threw yourself at him. The fabric of his shirt clenched in your fist to drag him closer. Your lips collided together, and it felt–quiet–like your brain could finally shut away every insecurity and doubt in this moment as long as you could still feel his lips against yours. 

Sugar and lemon had never tasted so sweet. 

He wasted no time in planting his hands on your waist; they were desperate in the way they traced along your curves like he was finally getting his fill. Fingers guided a path up your spine until they found the back of your head 

His other hand drifted up to cup your cheek, thumb softly pressing against your jaw to open you up for him. His tongue tracing your lips before meeting your own.  “I wanted to do that the second you walked out of your apartment.”

Your laugh was breathless and a little high-pitched. “Honestly, I would have let you…”

He nuzzled into your cheek, pressing a multitude of kisses there and against the space below your ear, nipping at the soft curve of your jaw. “Well, I was determined to treat you right, would’ve never left that parking lot otherwise.” It felt vitalizing, knowing that this man wanted you, even if it was just want for now. Now he gripped the collar of your turtleneck, stretching it down so he could get his lips on you there too. 

The feeling of him pulling the sensitive skin of your neck between his lips, his teeth, it had you curling your fingers in his hair, pulling him even closer. You raised yourself up, knees digging into the couch, leaning over him, above him. A tug at his curls had him pulling away from his task, hooded eyes gazing up at you, making him ask what was wrong. “Just know that if you leave a hickey, I’m leaving one right back. And I will not be subtle about where it goes.” You knew exactly where you would put it too. Right where his neck meets his shoulder, that way it could peek out from his collar every time the muscles tensed. 

His smirk was satisfied and lazy, leaning forward, short, quick pecks against your lips. “Noted.” He kept creeping forward until you found yourself falling backwards onto the cushion behind you, but he slowed the descent. Then he was the one above you, and the whole thing just made you giggle. Jack brushed his nose against yours, your smile kissing his lips. “You’re so beautiful,” you felt like it in this moment, not even a hint of desire to argue.

You don’t know how much time passed while he kissed you. And that was all he did, which, to be fair, he’s very good at it. But he didn’t try to push anything further; it made you feel like a wild animal with the way you were clawing at his back, his sides, his stomach. Anywhere you could reach, just to get a hint of the warmth he’s hiding from you. 

“I uh–I brought condoms, I mean technically Trinity brought them from the hospital–” God, you were rambling, why the hell would you bring up your sister right now? 

He lifted his head away from your neck, “Wait…Trinity gave you stolen condoms from the hospital?”

“Is it technically stealing if they’re free?”

“Technically they’re for patients.” Jack briefly slipped into teacher mode, you’ve had the privilege of seeing that switch multiple times over the last month. 

You tried to brush off the potential theft by bringing him closer, “Okay then, please ignore everything I just said.” You doubt your sister would be in trouble for swiping condoms, but it’s kind of funny considering her choice of partner. 

He looked affronted, “Frankly, I’m just disappointed you didn’t think I’d have better ones.” 

“That’s what you’re focused on?” It felt nice to be able to laugh with someone like this, even in intimate moments. 

He nuzzled into your neck, softly biting down on every inch of skin he could reach. “You should know I’d never make you buy them, it’s not your job. But I do admire you for being prepared.” All you wanted to focus on was the promise of future meetings like this, but he found a particularly sensitive spot that made you sigh beneath him. His smile extended across your neck before whispering in your ear, “And uh, just to be clear, we’re not having sex tonight sweetheart.” 

“Oh..” you’d never felt your body sour with disappointment so quickly before.

“But I would very much like to take care of you if you’ll let me.” He responded before that disappointment could fester, before it settled on your features and made your brain come up with a thousand questions. None of your previous partners had ever wanted to work up to something, they never even bothered to just talk about it.

“Oh…” God if that didn’t make you want him even more now. 

There was a need to put distance, not too much of course, but just enough to stress that he was serious. “I need you to know that this–this isn’t all I want from you. I want to know you, and I want you to know me. Fuck, I haven’t wanted that in a long time.”

“I want that too Jack.” His lips were quick to find yours again, messy and desperate, knowing neither of you were going anywhere for a good while. “So when you say ‘take care of me’...”

You could feel the vibration of his laughter as you led him with the question. “I mean, I’d like to make you come,” he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, “with my fingers,” the other side, “my mouth,” your lips, “only if you’d like that as well?”

Your head was bobbing up and down before he could even finish. Both of you laughing before coming together again for a quick kiss. “I’d like that a lot actually.” 

His hands were bolder now, tracing along your waist until they settled against your back. It’s like his hand had found a perfect resting place there. “Can I take this off?” He asked, tugging at the material of your shirt. 

A tug against his, “Only if you’re taking yours off too.” He chuckled, and you could hear him say ‘fair enough’ under his breath. He leaned back and gathered the material of his henley behind his neck before practically ripping it off and throwing it behind him. 

This man and his freckles should never be allowed to be covered by scrubs again; it’s a crime. “Jesus…” he looked at you questioningly before glancing down at his chest like there was something he wasn’t seeing. “You’re ridiculously fit Jack, how do you even find the time?”

He gave a small shrug of his shoulders that felt more like a personal show than anything. “It’s all about balance sweetheart.” The word balance was spoken like a new-age yoga instructor. 

“Balance my ass.”

Lips brushed against your forehead since he was too busy laughing at the way you were ogling him. “Your turn, arms up.” Fuck, okay, here goes nothing, you thought, lifting your arms up as he instructed. He didn’t take it off all at once though, there were stages. The pants you wore sat high on your waist, so every time he lifted the shirt higher, he would explore the exposed skin of your stomach until it reached the lace of the black bralette you wore. This continued until the material was bunched above your breasts and didn’t fall back down on its own. Jack was a very patient man; you figured he had to be in his line of work, but now you were reaping the benefits of the years it took to build. 

It turned you on even more to see him take the time to fold your shirt and place it on the coffee table instead of chucking it to the side like he did his own. When he turned back, he took a moment to just look at you. You knew he was admiring you, could feel it, but fuck, you needed him to say something because you were about two seconds away from covering yourself with the blanket along the couch. 

“Fuck you’re gorgeous sweetheart.” His palm rested against your stomach, right above the button of your pants. You thought that’s where his fingers would be heading next, but instead they travelled upwards between your breasts, resting at the base of your throat. You knew he wouldn’t curl those fingers higher, not without your permission. He tilted your chin up, lips meeting yours in a soft, almost thankful kiss. It was like he was trying to make you cry again. 

Your hands hadn’t moved away from his forearms, and you couldn’t understand why you were so hesitant to move them up. Especially when you had been thinking about getting your hands on him for a month now. As if he could sense your struggle, he said, “You can touch me baby, not like you ever had to find an excuse to before.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t act like you’re so innocent, always reaching out whenever you brush past me, excuse me Jack,” his voice was teasingly pitched up to mimic yours. You couldn’t help but laugh, still you tried to say he was wrong. “Or when I’d help you carry something, you’re so sweet Jack, making me lose my damn mind.” 

You shook your head at his ridiculousness. “Never heard you complain.”

He inched closer until he was flush against you, the hair on his chest rubbing against lace, tickling your skin. “Now, why would I go and do something stupid like that?” There was no hesitation in your touch now, hands running along his biceps, his chest, like art that no longer had a do-not-touch sign on it. He was so warm you’d think he’d just come in from the sun, and so firm. You’d never been with someone who had such a soft strength to them. He shuddered when your nails lightly scratched along his shoulder to the back of his head. A soft choked groan told you that you might have found a weakness of his. 

“And what about this?” He asked, finger lightly tracing over your nipple through the lace. You froze beneath him, it was involuntary, but your brain couldn’t help but stutter.

“Uh, leave it for now, it’s a pain to get back on.” You just needed a bit of coverage, just a bit, and you’d be fine. 

He didn’t believe you, but if it made you comfortable, then that was that, “Okay, baby.” There wasn’t a moment to dwell on it, his tongue kept you occupied. His lips only left yours when you practically had to push him away for oxygen, even then, he just trailed his lips down your neck. Eager to explore the skin that had been hidden by the collar of your shirt.   

“I thought you were so handsome the day I met you, I nearly dropped the food I was carrying. Wondered what I’d have to do to get these arms around me.” You don’t know what made you confess it, you just wanted him to know. He chuckled, head nuzzling into your cleavage, at least what little there was of it. You adored the way his stubble felt against your skin and wondered if it would feel just as good everywhere else. 

His tongue reached out to swipe along the top of your breast. “There were so many times I saw you at the center, wanted to come up to you, knew all you had to do was say hi, and I’d be gone. Could kick myself for being such a coward.”

It was your turn to kiss his forehead, and the way he leaned into it made you smile. “That why you tried to get me a job there after knowing me all of five minutes?”

By the end of the night you were sure his smirk would be branded into your skin. “Guilty. Couldn’t help the fact that I wanted to see more of you. Still can’t help it.”

“Well, you did manage to get me for four more hours a week, actually less considering how often you get pulled away.” He nipped your skin at the reminder of his short time with you on the days that you come in for work. 

“Don’t worry, I’m working on a way to sneak you into the room with me.”

You giggled at the idea. “Sure you are.” His fingers brushed the lace against the top of your breast, asking if he could tug it down, so you just did it for him. Eager to feel his fingers, too impatient to actually give him an answer. His hand was so large and warm, covering the expanse of your breast, tweaking your nipples to stiff peaks. “Wait, so does that mean you lied about not recognizing me at first?”

His lips wrapped around the taught flesh, taking his time before responding. “Oh yeah, I knew it was you the second you walked through the ambulance bay. Never would have guessed who you were related to though.”

“Yeah, let’s not bring up my sister right now. She’s already been brought up one too many times since things had gotten hot and heavy. 

“Agreed.” Jack lavished the same attention on the other side, sadly leaving your skin to cool, his spit tattooing your skin. 

“You can bite them, please.” It was a question, plea, and demand all in one. Your breasts weren’t really sensitive unless a bit of pressure was applied to them, and it’s like Jack knew that better than you did. He groaned against your chest, taking your nipple into his mouth with even pressure, more teeth.

The only thing you could do was card your fingers through his hair and hold him close to you. Unable to take his eyes meeting yours for a few moments at a time before it became too much, seeing the pure want in them. He was determined to leave your chest littered with his marks. 

His thumb brushed against the metal button on your pants, slowly undoing them like he was still giving you the chance to change your mind. The zipper being dragged down felt almost too loud in the room, and he broke it up with short kisses to your chest, your neck, anywhere he could reach. Once your pants were opened, his hands were quick to dip beneath the fabric, but you halted them before they could move any farther down. 

“Uhm, I haven’t–I don’t really shave down there…” 

He shook his head in disbelief but still pressed a kiss against your temple. “Baby that doesn’t bother me one bit alright, it’s meant to be there. Only thing I want you focused on is feeling good okay?” Both of his hands reached to grip your ass over the fabric of your underwear, a low groan leaving the back of his throat as he pulled you closer. “Okay?” He waited for you to respond, a soft okay echoing his as you lifted up your hips to pull the fabric down. 

Both socks were taken off by him as well, with a kiss placed on each knee before he moved back up to explore the new territory. They weren’t random kisses like you thought at first. He was tracing the pattern of your stretch marks, his nose following the lines with his lips not far behind. “M’not ashamed to admit that I got myself off dreaming about the day I’d be lucky enough to get my hands on you. Had me feeling like a horny teenager all over again.” His words were slightly muffled as they were spoken through kisses placed against your stomach. 

You gently tilted his face up to look at you, “What does it mean if I thought about you then?”

He loomed over you, “Oh, you dirty fucking girl,” whispered against your lips. Your tongue darting out to catch a taste, and he offered even more. Hands tracing over your thighs, excited to have so much to explore, to hold, every curve and divot. 

His palm reached down to cup your pussy over your panties, a deep ‘fuck’ moaned against your chin after your lips disconnected, head tilted back with a gasp. “You feel how wet you are for me?” All you could manage was a whimper as his touch grew firmer. 

Teeth nipping at your jaw, “Talk to me baby, tell me how you play with this pretty pussy.” 

The tip of his finger traced over your lips, pressing down onto your clit through the fabric. “Fuck Jack…”

Nails were digging into his shoulder. “Do you take your time? Build yourself up? Or are you desperate like me, huh? You want it to last, but you know how good it’ll feel…”

You wanted to answer, but he was making it increasingly difficult. Especially now that he was moving beneath the waistband of your underwear. “I–I never take my time, just–just figure what’s the point?”

He paused, and you cursed yourself, “What’s the point?”

Was that the wrong thing to say? “Y-yeah…” 

Fuck, his fingers felt so much better like this, you thought. “Oh sweetheart, you should be taking time with yourself, should be feeling all of it. Especially if you’re thinking about me.” Clearly you weren’t as imaginative as you thought, since you would have never thought he’d be this talkative with you. 

“You’re–fuck your fingers feel so good.” You nearly bucked away from him when he curled them so deeply inside you, it had you scrambling for the armrest. His smirk grew above you as he repeated the motion, forcing a whine from the back of your throat. 

“Trust me, I can feel how much you like them.” Smug bastard. 

There was no rush to get you off, no ridiculous slamming fingers or rough movements that you didn’t ask for. He was genuinely taking the time to understand your body, to find the right angle, the right pressure that would make you sing for him. Every sigh, moan, and whimper was another correct answer he was studying so hard for.  “You getting close baby?”

“Yes, yes, please fuck, right there Jack.” The back of your head dug into the armrest, neck arching under his tongue, desperate for something that was so, so close.  

His free hand reached up to hold your jaw, bringing you back to him. “Nuh-uh, don’t look away, I wanna watch you come apart on my fingers.” It was too much, he was too much, your eyes were fluttering shut again. “Keep those eyes open  for me gorgeous.” You can do that, for him, you could. 

He leaned back, adjusted his angle, and it had you releasing a sound you didn’t know you were capable of. “That’s it, that’s a good girl.” His fingers picked up the pace, keeping the same motion, and when his thumb brushed against your clit you held on to the arm that kept your gaze locked onto his. He kept taking you higher and higher until it felt like you were plummeting back onto the couch, back into your body. You don’t even remember what you said to him, it was so breathless and quick, an unintelligible stream of his name, curses, and begging. 

The palm of his hand kept up a gentle caress along your cunt, until you were done shaking. Occasionally, his fingers would lightly dip back in to feel how wet you were after coming for him. His nose nuzzled into your cheek, short kisses trailing down to your mouth. “You alright?”

Your hand that had been gripping the back of his neck relaxed, gently massaging the tension beneath. A soft “Mhm,” was muffled against his kiss. “I didn’t think you’d be such a talker,” you said once he let you breathe again. 

“Is that a bad thing?” The question made you want to roll your eyes. Obviously he knew it wasn’t, he could feel exactly what his words did to you. 

Your head lazily shook back and forth, “Fuck no, not bad, not bad at all.” 

“You look so beautiful when you come sweetheart.” Cheeks heating despite everything that just happened had you turning your face into his shoulder. “Uh-uh, don’t get shy on me now, we’re working on compliments, remember.”

“Oh fuck you,” you said through giggles as he licked a particularly ticklish spot on your neck.

His lips began a path down the curve of your stomach again. “Hmm, not tonight, but I’d love to eat you out if that’s on table?” 

The question made you shiver, your pussy clenching down on nothing, wishing you had his fingers in you again. “Figured you’d be full by now.”

He looked up at you from where he was trying to devour the space where your thigh met your hip. “Nah, I saved plenty of room for dessert,” so you definitely weren’t imagining that double meaning yesterday.  You felt a puff of air against the swollen lips of your cunt, “You gonna let me taste you now?” All you could offer was a nod since it was too difficult to think with his head between your thighs. 

It shouldn’t have surprised you that he didn’t dive right in. Instead, he kissed all along your inner thigh, higher than he was able to explore before. He gave so many ignored parts of yourself affection, like it was always meant to be given. Slowly, so slowly, when he was satisfied, he licked a long stripe up your pussy, tongue curling at the end to collect everything it could.  “Jesus sweetheart, you taste so fucking good,” he barely finished his sentence with a groan before practically unhinging his jaw to devour your cunt. 

He had been slow and gentle with his fingers, but his tongue acted like you were a meal about to be taken from him. “Oh f-fuck Jack, that’s–you’re so…”

“So what,” he asked, releasing the suction around your clit with a wet pop. Opening you up with his thumb so that he could get a good look at you. “So what baby?”

“So good, Jack, you’re so good.” Turns out you weren’t the only one that coveted a bit of praise.

“Hmm, I’m still learning,” another lick, “still gotta figure out what you like.”

“Doctors and their case studies, huh.” He chuckled against your pussy, and it had you jolting forward with a whimper. 

“Nice to know you’ve still got jokes even when I’m eating you out.” His efforts redoubled before you could actually make another one. For a while, it was just you trying and failing to catch your breath until he slowed down again. Your hand reached for the one that was digging into your thigh bringing it up so that his fingers could wrap around your breast. He was close enough to feel the rapid drumming of your heart, and you could feel his own heavy pulse from where your hand was wrapped around his wrist. 

His pace slowed down, desperate to drag this out, desperate to fuck you with his tongue. “God Jack.” It was guttural, you didn’t even know your voice could reach a pitch that deep, fading into a whimper. “I-I wanna make you feel good too Jack.” This was new to you, the focus, the attention, the drive to make sure that you feel divine. 

Your eyes focused on the movement of his hips as he grinded himself into the couch, his lips parting, air blowing on your pussy. “Oh baby, you have no idea how good I feel right now.” 

“Fuck, it’s-it’s never…” It was almost embarrassing, the way you couldn’t even complete a sentence.

“Never what?”

“It’s never been this good.” A compliment and a confession all in one. How could you have known it’d make you emotional, tears stinging at your eyes that you tried to blink away. You couldn’t look at him now, but everything still felt so good. 

His arms wrapped around you as best as he could with his mouth being occupied. A tight hug, part of you wished for tighter, for him to crush you against him. “I know baby, I know…” 

Your other hand reached down to bury into his curls, which had become unruly throughout this entire ordeal, but they were oh so soft. The groan he let out when you tugged made your back arch, thighs spreading open even further. Jack wasted no time in occupying the space, pressing himself even closer, smothering himself in your pussy. “M’gonna make sure you know what it’s like to be taken care of.” Why did that almost sound like a threat? 

“Please, Jack baby, please.”

“You can let go, I’m not going anywhere. Want you to know exactly where I want to be.” Between your thighs, in your arms, standing behind you in support. His voice was husky, a gentle, hard-edged promise. Your hands couldn’t seem to figure out which part of him to hold onto. One entwined with his on your thigh, the other held onto the side of his face, holding his cheek in your palm. It was an entirely new sensation to feel the muscles of his jaw moving beneath your fingertips as he worked to bring you over the edge. 

His mouth lifted to press a wet kiss against your palm before diving back down, getting lost in his task. “Need you to come on my face sweetheart, need to feel it.” Your brain zeroed in on that word, need, need, need, and fuck if you didn’t need it more. 

 He didn’t let up until you were tugging too harshly at his hair. Your heightened gasps echoed in his living room, a few bursts of disbelieving laughter mixed in. His hand coming up to rest against the middle of your chest, slowly rubbing small circles into your skin. “Breathe baby, breathe.”

You were worried you might cry again once you finally caught your breath, once you finally settled, but you buried it down. “Thank you.”

His head shook at your soft gratitude. “You don’t have to thank me for that,” he said through soft laughter. 

Jack was a bit surprised at your strength, attempting to pull him up so that you could wrap your arms around his shoulders. “Oh no, I really, really, do. I hate stroking your ego, but fuck that was…amazing.” Both of you were laughing now. 

“Ridiculous,” he teasingly mumbled against your collarbone. “Just you wait, I’ve got plans for you now that I’ve got a sense for what you like.”

You brushed away a curl that had stuck to his forehead, “Hmm, what about you?”

“Me? I’m good baby, trust me.”

It was like a foggy memory finally clearing up. You remembered his groans getting louder, his hands molding into your skin, the slight whimper. “Did you…”

It was him that couldn’t meet your eyes this time. “Yeah, yeah, sorry…”

“Jack baby, please don’t apologize, that’s really fucking hot.” You had to tease him, how could you not? This was a big first for you. “But I know damn well I don’t taste that good, so do you just really love eating pussy or…”

His finger was tracing over a blossoming purple mark above your breast. “Ohhh, I beg to differ. I’d have you with my coffee everyday if I could.” He winked at you, and it tempted you to push his head back down for another taste, “and yes, I do love eating pussy thank you very much, yours especially.” His teeth nipped at your shoulder, causing you to let out a surprised grunt and playfully push him away

He just pulled you close, "If I'm honest, it was the way you were holding me while I was doing it, if that makes sense. Feeling your fingers in my hair–fuck it felt good baby–but when you reached down to hold my jaw, your thumb against my cheek, drove me fucking crazy sweetheart.” In his mind, he was planning on making you come at least once more before you got off this couch. He was already warming you up to the idea with his mouth, “What time do you have to be at work tomorrow?”

Unwilling to fully break away from you, he left a few kisses against your jaw so you could answer. “Not until ten thankfully,” you glanced over at the clock on his stove, seeing that it was past twelve already. “Shit, it’s late, I should probably get home before Trinity brings out the searchlight.” Usually, you’d already be in bed by now, but the hours had slipped by unknowingly between the two of you. 

He was fully prepared to get up and change his pants to go take you home, but he was selfish and not ready to give you up for the night just yet. “Yeah…or you could stay, text her that you’re okay, and I can bring you back tomorrow morning before you have to get ready. I make a pretty good breakfast sandwich too.”

Spending the night on the first date would be another new one for you. The desire to spend a few more hours in his arms already had you deciding that you’d stay for a whole week if he asked. “Oh, I’m definitely not doubting your capabilities after tonight. Will there be coffee included?”

How is that even a question? The look he gave you asked before leaning in to kiss you as best he could through his smile.  “Mhm, told you I wanted to have you with my coffee in the morning.” 

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the first day you and samira met was the day you both moved into your first shared apartment. it was a hot morning in august. the two of you had no idea who the other person was. samira had zero faith in the roommate matching system because her last few roommates were the worst. you, on the other hand, were excited to meet your new roommate because the roommates you had during undergrad became some of your closest friends.

when samira first arrived, you were already there, and your family was there helping you move in. samira was already nervous before walking in, but now, nervous was an understatement. seeing such a large group of people, when she expected only one person, made her shoulders tense up a bit.

you immediately introduced yourself with a wide smile, and your entire family followed behind. when your mother introduced herself, she engulfed samira in a bone-crushing hug. for a moment, samira stood frozen, stunned by your family’s openness. she didn’t know how to react to such welcoming strangers, but she managed to give you all a small smile as the tension in her shoulders began to ease a little.

your father noticed samira was alone, so he offered himself and your younger brother to help her unload her car. as they started carrying her things, samira felt a mix of gratitude and awkwardness. she was used to doing things herself and was almost embarrassed by how quickly your family treated her like she was one of their own. when she tried to pick up a heavy box, your father immediately took the box away from her and suggested she should grab one of the lighter boxes so she wouldn't hurt herself. samira had never met people like you and your family before. later on you would tell her that you were raised in the south and almost everyone you knew was like that. it was simple southern hospitality.

later that day, when you were both done unpacking, your family had to leave, but they had a hard time getting out of the apartment because your mother was in full-blown tears.

"my baby's leaving me again." your mother sobbed as your father tried to console her.

"she was a lot worse when i moved into my first dorm." you had whispered to samira.

after many goodbyes and your mother breaking out into tears multiple times, your family finally left.

you and samira were alone, so you decided to order takeout and get to know each other. the two of you talked about undergrad and what your experience was like.

during undergrad, you were involved in extracurricular activities, like charity events with your sorority and community events with the local shelters and boys and girls club. you even ran for your school's royal court and participated in the scholarship pageant of your sorority's brother fraternity.

"i didn't have time for clubs and stuff." samira shrugged.

which was true, samira didn’t have time for extracurricular activities because she was too focused on her studies. the only friends she had during undergrad were the ones from her study group, and they weren’t really her friends. if she wasn’t studying or in class, she was in her dorm resting, and she rarely did that.

"really?" you tilted your head. "i didn't really have a choice. my mom would've flipped if i didn't join her sorority or any other D9 sorority."

as the night went on, you and samira continued learning more about each other. you talked so late that by the time you finally fell asleep, the sun was already peaking through the blinds.

you learned that samira's father died of a heart attack when she was younger, and how his death and racial bias were the reasons she decided to study medicine. in return, you told her your reason for studying medicine was for similar reasons. it was your dream to become a doctor because you believed that people of color deserved to have doctors who looked like them taking care of them. medical racism was real, and you hated it.

days passed, and by the end of your first week living together, you and samira became inseparable. the two of you had similar goals and interests, so you both thought, why not help each other make those goals happen?

during your first two years of med school, you and samira studied together all the time. whether you were in your apartment’s living room, your favorite coffee shop, or the library, you kept each other on track. if one of you got sick, the other helped take care of you and made sure you didn’t fall behind in class. you took care of samira, and samira took care of you.

you brought a side out of samira that she didn’t know she had. you liked going out to bars and parties, but samira didn’t go out much. eventually, you grew tired of samira keeping herself shut up inside the apartment. you were determined to get her to go out.

“sami, get up and put this on.” you threw her a dress you had sitting in your closet.

“but-” samira tried to protest.

“no, ‘buts’, i’m not taking no for an answer.”

you got samira to start going out more. the times you would go out, you and samira always looked out for each other. always taking care of each other whenever you were drunk. holding each other’s hair as one of you threw up, and taking care of the next day’s hangover.

as you and samira grew closer, you became more affectionate towards each other. you would hold each other's hands all the time. walking through a crowded bar or party, walking from class to class, or sometimes you would hold hands just to hold hands. during your free time, you cuddled on the couch while watching reruns of your favorite shows. there were times when you would fall asleep in each other's beds and would wake up tangled in each other's arms. you were so affectionate with each other that your classmates thought you were in love.

during your first summer break together, you invited samira to spend time with your family in martha's vineyard. samira had never experienced such a carefree and loving environment before. your grandmother and aunties loved her. your grandfather told her endless stories about his own journey of becoming a successful doctor as a black man in the south. your family cooked constantly, so her belly was always full. by the end of the summer samira was sure she had gained weight from how much food she ate. she got along well with your cousins and younger siblings. samira loved your family, and your family loved her. when the summer was over, all samira could talk about was revisiting with you next year.

your third year felt like it came and went, and by the end of your fourth year, you already had your mind set on doing your residency in psychiatry after falling in love with it, and the same for samira with emergency medicine.

at some point throughout the four years of med school, you had fallen in love with samira. you began to notice her beauty more, to the point where just looking at her made you flustered. her touches began to linger on your skin more. holding her hand or hugging her started to feel intimate for you. her compliments left a lasting impression on your mind for days. you felt that you had to put an end to it, but it was impossible to stop loving someone like her. you weren’t sure when it happened, but you were unconditionally and irrevocably in love with samira mohan.