Avery :)

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.

Word count: 6k

Warnings: Yelling, arguing, the reader feels really upset about everything, Cassie being really sweet, the reader having a bit of attitude with Cassie, swearing, a brief talk about parents, and I believe that is all :)

a/n: hi guys!!! It feels like it's been FOREVER since I've uploaded anything, Cassie, so here we go! Anon, I hope you like it. Sorry it took me so long to write, I've been going through some stuff, but that's neither here nor there. Anyway, I hope you guys like this! Cassie smut is probably coming sometime soon, as well as a cute Victoria Javadi fanfic I'm working on per a request :) Also, yes, I moved Samira to the night shift because fuck that she's leaving. Not in my book she ain't.

🎵- A Lack of Understanding

You and Cassie had been married for two years before you guys had a big fight.

Normally, the two of you would just have small quarrels over something stupid. From you leaving dirty dishes in the sink to her leaving her socks all around the house, which you had to keep picking up.

You and Cassie didn’t even fight while purchasing your first house. It was a nice house with a big backyard, but even the moving process didn’t kill the romance between you. Until it came to a single, stupid birthday party.

Cassie’s birthday was today, and you wanted to make it as amazing as possible. You made calls earlier in the week to florists and snack catering businesses, as well as a small band to perform.

You had made yourself look all cute, wearing a nice dress, and Cassie, of course, was wearing some black pants and a flowy t-shirt. You had done your makeup, hair, and matched your eye shadow to your dress; you had really put a lot of effort into looking good.

By the end of the night, however, your mascara was running down your cheeks, and you wanted to be as far away from her as possible. You didn’t know why you were being so emotional about everything; maybe you had woken up on the wrong side of the bed.

But you had been perfectly fine all day, so you don’t know what had changed between then and now.

It started halfway through when you put your own snacks out that the catering business had not brought. Your phone buzzed on the table as you set down the veggie platter. It was a sunny day, so nothing seemed like it was about to go amiss.

However, you frowned, looking down at the message that had popped up on your lock screen. Appearing over the picture of you and Cassie was a small message alert from Facebook Messenger, from the band that was supposed to be setting up right about now.

Hey! I’m so sorry, but we have to cancel. The weather says it’s going to rain, and we can’t get our equipment wet, unfortunately, so we will not be showing up. We’ve completely refunded you, but again, we’re sorry

“Shit.” You exhale, knocking your head back and looking at the ceiling in frustration. You sigh before texting a nice reply back telling them thanks for the refund, and it’s no problem. You look towards the windows, seeing the sun shining through, so the rain must be later on in the day because right now, it looks like nice and clear skies.

No worries, you still have good food, you still have nice flower arrangements outside, and soon enough, everyone will be arriving and helping you set up all the tables in the yard and whatnot. A band can be rescheduled for another birthday, after all.

Dana was currently distracting Cassie, taking her out to god knows where, as well as Harrison and Kamyar, so you could get everything in place and make everything perfect.

Mel is the first to arrive, ever early to things like these.

“It looks great already!” Are her greeting words to you as she hugs you. She’s brought her gift, and you are sure to place it in the bedroom before the two of you get to work on the outside. Mel helps you with a few chairs, placing them in what she tells you are the best spots before Baran arrives next.

You add another present to the bedroom, and Baran places the dessert she brought in the freezer

“Bastani sonnati.” She told you. A saffron-infused ice cream. “It’s my mom’s recipe, so you know it’s going to be good.”

You laughed before asking her to help Mel haul some of the tables into the backyard while you grabbed the sheets. You hated those plastic covers people would put on tables for birthdays and parties because they all ended up being ripped somehow, someway. And they ended up looking just…bad in your eyes.

Granted, it all happened at the hands of children, poking their fingers through the table cover plastic, and while there wouldn’t be any kids here besides maybe Cassie’s son, Harrison, and Baran’s son, Kamyar, you decided to wander down to the closest Goodwill you could find on Google maps. You scrounged around for old flat sheets anyway.

You had made cute flower crowns for everyone from the flowers of your nearby garden, as well as made your own beeswax candles in cute thrifted glass pillar candle holders that are now being placed on every table by Baran.

Soon enough, more people begin to turn up; Robby, Princess, and Perlah, they’re always together, those two, and you’re pretty sure they have never had a day apart. Then there’s Jesse, Dennis too, along with Trinity and Victoria, Mateo, Frank Langdon and his wife Abby, Mel, Yolanda, Donnie, Kiara, Ahmad, etc.

You’re actually so incredibly happy that even some of the night shift people could come too.

John Shen and his wife, Jack, Samira, Emery Walsh, and Parker Ellis. You honestly don’t know how they all got the same day off, but you’re not complaining. Jack probably pulled some bullshit about having some important event to attend, which isn’t completely wrong; Cassie’s turning 44 after all.

Everyone helped bring out the snacks and desserts, and home-cooked meals, some of them brought. They all chatted amongst themselves while Dennis, Trinity, and Victoria helped you make drinks. You had just bought a new Margarita mixer, and you were all too enthusiastic to use it. You and Trinity.

“How many of these things can we make in one sitting?” Trinity asked while turning the thing on.

You had to shout over the loud noise of ice, alcohol, and Margarita mix blending into one another. Once everything was all said and done, that’s when everything began to go wrong.

One of your neighbor’s dogs had gotten loose from their front yard.

You could all hear the incoming barking from a few blocks away. He must’ve smelled the hot dogs cooking and the burgers that Robby was flipping on the grill. The dog, Molasses, came running, tongue lolling out of his mouth, as he entered the yard.

Immediately, people panicked.

The dog wasn’t vicious at all, but no one wants dog slobber on their nice(r) clothes, do they? Of course, Molasses went after the food first. Tipping over bowls and almost snagging the cake before you picked it up by the cake stand into your hands.

Everyone’s voices piled over each other, shouting at the dog ‘No!” and “Stop!” and “Not the fucking snacks, dude! Come on!”

The owners, an older couple who owned a nearby, small Italian dessert shop down the road, came after their Australian Shepherd, but the damage had already been done. The sheets had been ripped off the tables in Molasses’s attempt to get at more food, most of it scattered around the lawn.

Drinks had been spilled, both alcoholic and non-alcoholic alike. Hey Ya! from Outkast was playing on the radio you had brought outside, and that was about the only thing that hadn’t been destroyed.

What made it even worse is that right in that moment, Cassie came through the door with Harrison, Kamyar, and Dana in tow. Balloons had been popped and lay in the grass looking utterly sad, and you could feel the tears bubbling up already.

Everyone shouted a glum ‘Surprise’ when Cassie’s eyes roamed over the dismal affair, with you standing in the middle of it.

“What the hell happened here?” Cassie says, and Donnie is the first one to speak up.

“A dog.”

They all laugh and giggle, but you’re far from doing either of those. People begin to help clean up, trying to salvage what they can from snacks, balloons, and drinks; meanwhile, all you can do is stand there and just stare.

Harrison comes up to you with a pout on his face. “What happened?”

“Uh, um,” you have to suck in a deep breath to stop yourself from crying. “Molasses got into the party.” You gave him a sad smile. “I’m sorry, bud. I know we really tried. Next year, I guess.”

He just shrugs and begins to help the other’s clean up.

However, it gets undeniably more atrocious when it begins to absolutely pour.

“Shit!” Robby says as the rain begins to drench his food. Everyone else begins to say the same things as their clothes begin to get soaked. You’re all grabbing something to run inside before anything else is submerged in rain.

The group leaves the tables but brings in the snacks, cooked food, the last of the balloons, etc. You had already brought in the salvaged cake, so there’s that at least. But you’re stuck standing against the sliding doors, watching as your once great party gets torrentially down-poured on.

Everyone who’s inside is laughing and talking, grabbing drinks, and whatnot, and slices of cake, but all of this makes you feel defeated.

This was supposed to be a good day. It was supposed to be Cassie’s greatest party yet. But now, it’s dulled down to another shitty day. And yeah, everyone is still having a good time behind you, but you wanted them to be having a good time outside.

“Come on, baby,” Cassie said with a smile on her face, like she couldn’t tell how upset you were. It made you mad, actually. She ushered you back to sit in her lap with everyone else sitting around in the living room or standing in the nearby kitchen.

But you just feel completely overwhelmed.

Eventually, when they all leave, and it’s just you, Cassie, and Harrison, that’s when you begin to pull away.

Cassie cooks dinner for the three of you that night, and when she puts the plates in front of each of you, she places her hand on your thigh. Usually, you’d put your hand over hers, squeezing a little, and she would squeeze your thigh in response.

However, you don’t. Not this time. And it doesn’t seem to you like she notices anyway, because she simply keeps her hand there until the end of dinner, and she collects the plates. Harrison races to his room to hop on some sort of game with a few of his friends, so you’re left with just you and Cassie in the living room.

It’s still raining, and you haven’t even had the time to bring in any of the tables. A few of the guys, after the party, offered to help, but you just wanted everyone to go home. It could wait until tomorrow, you told them.

Cassie sat next to you on the couch, some stupid TV show was playing in the background as you sat on your phone instead. She was eating some sort of dessert, possibly a slice of cake, but you didn’t look, mostly because you really didn’t care.

Since she got home, she hadn’t even noticed that you were sad about this whole thing. You had spent so much time making everything look perfect, just for the band not to come, for a dog to ruin all the food and drinks, and then the rain to sour your mood even more.

And that made you so angry because a lot of the time, Cassie would understand what was wrong, she would see how depleted you looked, and would sit you down, asking you what she could do to help you feel better. But obviously, she had done none of that.

“You want some?” She asked you, motioning to whatever was in her hands.

You instantly shook your head. “Nope.” Just a simple one-word answer. Technically, you should be an adult about this. You should turn towards her and tell her what’s on your mind, how you’re feeling. But you want to be a little petty. After all, you do deserve it.

“You sure?” Her voice is so soft when she says it that you almost give in, but you can’t. You can, you absolutely can, but you don’t. Won’t.

“Yup.” You sigh, exhaling through your mouth as you edge yourself further away from her a little bit, engrossed in your phone for the time being.

“Okay. More for me.” She shrugs before digging into the food.

You’ve had enough now, and you let out another sigh as you stand up, telling her a quick, “I’m going to bed,” before walking out of the living room. Her gifts are still in your shared bedroom, a mountain of presents piled into one corner.

You roll your eyes and just flop onto the bed. You hadn’t realized you were wearing one of Cassie’s shirts, so you’re quick to take it off and slip underneath the covers, closing your eyes. Trinity, Dennis, Victoria, Parker, Emery, and Dana had all tried reassuring you that it was still a great party, and they all still had a great time, even Jack said something along those lines, because everyone could tell you were gloomy about what had happened, except your fucking girlfriend, apparently.

————

The next morning, you wake alone, with a note on the side table scribbled in Cassie’s handwriting.

Went out :) Will be back soon! I love you

You crumpled it and threw it in the nearby trash.

Harrison is assuredly still sleeping as you pull on one of your own t-shirts over your head and shuffle to the kitchen. You begin to make eggs and some French toast for breakfast, and that’s when Harrison decides to show his face.

“Hey, sleepy head.” You kissed him on the top of his head as he looked at what you were making.

“Eggs?” He asks, like it’s not obvious.

“And French toast.”

He smiled at that before walking to the doors that slid open to the backyard. You watch as he makes a frown. “The tables are still out there.”

“Yeah,” You sigh. “I was too tired to bring them in.”

“I could’ve helped.” He raised his arms, trying to show his muscles, and it made you laugh.

“I know you could’ve, bud.” You put some eggs on a plate for him, and he grabs it to go sit down on the couch. The TV is already playing Saturday morning cartoons, and it helps as background noise as you play some nice music for yourself in the kitchen.

A few minutes later, you walk over to slide some French toast onto Harrison’s now bare plate. You fix yourself a good amount of breakfast and sit down beside him on the couch to lose yourself in early morning kids’ TV.

The two of you are about halfway through the second plate of French Toast when the door opens, and Cassie walks in, shaking rain from her coat onto the front door mat.

“There’s my favorites!” She says, a little too joyously for your liking, but Cassie still doesn’t get the idea that you’re mad, and so all you do is sit there as she kisses the top of your head.

“Hi, Mom,” Harrison responds, bringing his plate to the sink.

You stay seated on the couch, however.

You hear Harrison ramble on about going to a friend’s house later that day, and Cassie is all for it, possibly due to the fact that the two of you haven’t had any time together for a while now. Not that you wanted any time alone with her right now.

Harrison cleans his plate and goes to get dressed. Meanwhile, Cassie sits down next to you with French toast and eggs.

“These are good, baby.” She murmurs, swallowing.

“Thanks.” You weren’t so petty as to give her the silent treatment.

That’s when Cassie finally raises an eyebrow at your quick, dismissive answers. “You okay?” She lifts a finger to gently place a strand of hair behind the shell of your ear. You just nod, keeping your eyes on the screen in front of you.

“Yup.” You answer.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” You quip.

She doesn’t seem to believe you at all, but she can’t say anything further besides, ‘We’ll talk when I come back, alright?’ as Harrison is now dressed and ready to go. You simply nod again, and you listen as she grabs her keys and goes to drive Harrison to his friend’s house.

While she’s gone, you clean up a bit, bringing in the plastic tables from outside and throwing the flat sheets into the washing machine. You pick up the discarded snacks lying in the grass and the flowers. You pick up the discarded cups, plates, and napkins, throw away the remaining snacks in the house as well as the cake, and once everything is said and done, you’re sprawled out on the couch, scrolling on your phone.

But you’re so upset with Cassie and the horrible party that you can’t stay still. So you get up to take a shower, change the bedsheets on both Harrison’s and your shared bed with Cassie, you clean the dining room a little bit as well as the living room, and then that’s when you hear the front door open.

“Baby?” She calls out as you place new dirty clothes into the washer.

“Here.” You call back, grumbling curses under your breath as you turn on the dryer. You hear her footsteps get closer until she’s leaning against the doorframe of the laundry room.

“What’re you doing?” She asks, and that’s when you give her a little more attitude.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” You ask with an eyebrow raise and a shake of your head. You gesture down to the warm laundry in the laundry basket.

“Okay, okay, baby. I got it.” She raises her hands in mock defense. “Are you okay? What’s bothering you, hm?”

“You are.” You fight back, grabbing the laundry basket and walking into the bedroom.

“Hey, hey-” She goes to grab your arm, but you shake her off, dropping the basket onto the bed before whipping around to face her.

“Are you only noticing that I’m mad at you because I’m not laying kisses on your face as soon as you get through the door?” You ask her.

“Woah, that is not-”

“I did so much for you yesterday. I had everyone show up to surprise you. I made drinks, and I got snacks from a very nice catering place, as well as the cake. I got balloons, and I paid for a band that didn’t even show up. I got flowers and other snacks, people brought food, I don’t even know how everyone got the day off, but they did, and you didn’t say anything!”

“Baby, where-”

“Where is this coming from? It’s coming from the fact that when you showed up, everything was demolished by a dog, and all you did was laugh while I stood there in the middle of all my hard work, now destroyed.”

Her eyes are scanning your face as tears run down your cheeks. You wipe them away with a quickness that can only be because you don’t want her to comment on them or try to console you right now.

“And everything sucked! Harrison knew it; he was so disappointed because we had planned it for weeks. He even texted Dana asking if she could drive you guys around to aid in the distraction while I set everything up.” You were full-on sobbing now. “And you didn’t even notice how sad I was when you arrived at your surprise party, and everything was ruined.”

Her eyebrows are pinched together, her mouth pulled into a frown. She’s standing before you, her hands at her side, but you can tell she wants to touch you. To pull you into a hug and rubs your back as she apologizes.

But you don’t want that, you want her to listen.

“Trinity, Dennis, and Victoria have been trying to convince me that it was still a fun party, but I just know they’re lying because it went from 100 to 0 in a matter of seconds. No snacks, no drinks, the flower arrangements were gone to shit, all the pretty candles I made for you were cracked, and on the ground, all 20 of us were packed in a house with nothing to eat or drink. Yeah, the cake was there, but even that went to shit as much as I tried to save it from the dog.”

You were whining and sniffling and wiping your face as she just looked at you.

“What? What’re you looking at?” You ask defensively, done with your rant now.

“I’m looking at my girlfriend, that’s what I’m doing.”

“Oh fuck off.” You shake your head, trying to push past her. Her hands go to your arms, pulling you back.

“Let’s sit down, okay?” She asks softly, taking the laundry basket off the bed, and then she urges you to take a seat. She sits facing you, her blue eyes roaming your face before she speaks. “I’m sorry I ignored your feelings.”

Which would be a great start to an apology if it didn’t sound like she was about to say ‘but’.

“But,” ah, you were right. “I’ve also been stressed with things. Work, Harrison, you sometimes.” She pokes your knee, making you roll your eyes.

“This is the worst apology-”

“I’m not done.” She’s getting off the bed and squatting down between your legs, making you look down at her. Her hands run up and down the tops of your thighs, soothing you. Or, at least trying to. “I think the surprise party was a great idea, and I’m sorry your plan got ruined by a dog. I wish I had gotten there earlier to see it.”

You just sniffle, trying to breathe through your clogged nose. Her hands come up to your face, wiping the stray tears away. “However, like I said, I’ve been stressed. Sometimes you can’t pick up on how I’m feeling either. It’s frustrating, isn’t it?”

“I always-”

She cuts you off with a shake of her head. “No, you don’t baby.”

“Whatever.” You roll your eyes again.

“See? There you go. You brush things like this off when it comes to me.”

“Oh don’t even start with that!” You stand, raising your voice again. You’re now pushing past her successfully this time, grabbing for your keys.

“Are you serious right now? You’ve been giving me attitude all day and now when I finally give it back you run!” She shouts, her voice stern. You’ve never heard this side of her. You’ve never gotten into this big of a fight until now.

Trinity said that honeymoon phase would end, and honestly you didn’t believe her because you and Cassie had never even so much as gave one another a mean look when angry. But this was something else. It was a mess of both her feelings and yours, both of you feeling as though the other is in the wrong, etc.

“I need air.” You tell her. “I’ll pick up Harrison later.” You mumble before sticking your feet in your shoes and walking out the door, slamming it behind you. You jump at the own noise you created.

You should go back and apologize. You hated slamming things and leaving things unsaid. But you needed a break from the sour mood you have been in from the night before, and so you’re driving away from the house, leaving Cassie behind without another word.

You tried to keep the tears at bay because she was right. Sometimes you don’t consider her feelings as you should. She works a hard job; a job you can’t even imagine what it’s like actually working in it.

However, your feelings were also still hurt.

You drove to Dana’s house, the first place that popped into your mind. You expected her to be out or something, but she was there as you rang the bell a few times.

“Hey, kid!” Her voice is all excitement, but it quickly turns around when she actually sees your face. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong, hun?”

She seems as though she’s been gardening. She’s got on thick gloves and some cargo pants, a thin shirt, and a broad hat to keep away the sun’s rays. She’s got a smudge of dirt on her face and clippers in one of her hands, a cigarette in her mouth.

“Um, C-Cassie and I got into a really bad fight and-” You can barely get the words out before you start crying again.

“Oh boy.” She replies, pulling off her gloves while cocking her head for you to come inside. She stubs her cigarette out before she hugs you, letting you cry onto her shoulder. You’re a blubbering mess, trying to explain what happened as she just listens.

She takes you to the living room, having you sit down on the couch as she gets the two of you some tea. Meanwhile, you’re trying to calm yourself so you can actually tell her what had transpired between the birthday party and this morning.

She settles back into the couch as you recount everything. The urge to cry has faded away now, and you’re somewhat hiccuping through the explanation. When you’re done, Dana takes a long time to answer. Her eyebrow is raised, a ‘come on, now, really’ sort of smirk on her lips, and her eyes seem very amused.

“That’s it?” She says, and you’re left speechless. “Well, if she’s right about the feelings thing, you just dismissed her feelings from running away here, hun.” She tells you.

“I know, but-”

“Uh, uh. No buts, kid. You know I’m right, so listen to me.” You do as you’re told, sipping on your tea as she gives you some advice. “You can’t expect her to gauge how you feel when you can’t see when she’s upset or stressed. How is that fair, huh?”

“I don’t know.” You answer, shrugging.

“Exactly. Because it’s not fair. To her or you. I’m sorry the party didn’t go as planned for you, but that’s just how it goes sometimes. Next year, we’ll plan it here, okay? My yard is, fortunately, fenced in.” That makes you laugh a little. She places her hand on your arm. “But Cassie is also going through things and has experienced things that you don’t take into consideration a lot of the time.”

You sigh, nodding your head. “Yeah, I know.”

“Do you?” She asks. “I really don’t think you do, kid.”

“What do you mean? She tells me what happens in the ER all the time.”

“Right, but does she tell you what it does to her?”

That question hits you like a slap to the face because when you really think about it, no, no, she doesn’t. She will tell you stories all night long if you let her, but never once would you catch her saying ‘And I felt…’ or ‘It hurt so bad’ or ‘Fuck, it made me angry’. No, there was none of that in those types of conversations.

And you’re struck with the reality that when you talk about your stories from the day, you usually tell Cassie what your emotions were throughout the retelling. Furthermore, you remembered that Cassie can tell when you’re feeling off, when you’re happier than usual, which usually means you have something planned, she can tell when you’re angry and will usually pick up your favorite candies at whatever Family Dollar or gas station is close to the house, as well as a few flowers to cheer you up.

Yes, you would also get her things when she was in a mood. You knew what candy she liked (sour patch kids), her favorite flower (Hydrangeas), her favorite food (Grilled cheese), and her favorite animal (bunnies). But you sometimes can’t tell when she’s in a mood. You can’t tell when she’s sad, you can’t tell when she’s annoyed about something. You can, however, definitely tell when she’s angry. Especially now.

“No. No, I guess not.” You finally admit out loud to both yourself and Dana.

“Has she apologized to you yet?”

“Yeah, she did.”

“Then go and apologize to her. She deserves it, too.” Her hand leaves your arm, and she takes your empty cup of tea so you can’t hide behind it anymore. “Get her some flowers, maybe some nice tea or coffee, whatever that woman loves, and apologize.”

“Okay, okay.” You sigh, standing from the couch and following her into the kitchen.

“Don’t say that like it’s an issue for ya, hun.”

“I’m not, I just…” You shrug, feeling defeated. “What if it happens again?” Your chin begins to tremble. “I hate this. I hate her being mad at me and me being mad at her. I slammed the door when I left. I’ve never done that before, Dana. But I was just so mad. And she raised her voice at me, which she’s never done, ever.”

“So that’s when you waltz in, one hand sporting chocolate, the other with a big ‘I’m sorry’ card, and you tell her how wrong you were, and you say how you’ll be more conscious about her feelings next time, kid.” She’s smiling at you, a sort of sympathy smile. “But, you also explain your feelings too.”

“But what if it doesn’t work?” You press on.

She sighs, her shoulders dropping. “Hun, fights like these are always going to happen. You two were never going to stay in the honeymoon phase. Staying in the honeymoon phase the entirety of your relationship just gets across the idea that you’ve never known each other fully. You two are passive people in a passive relationship.”

“Okay.” You nod, believing her. But it reminded you of your parents a lot. How they would just fight and never make up. Never apologize to one another.

“And you two are not in a passive relationship.”

“How do you know that?” You lift your head up from staring at her floor.

“Hun, the way she looks at you when she thinks no one else is watching. And the way you look at her is the same. That ain’t passive in the slightest.”

You smile for the first time all day. “I guess, yeah.” You begin to get a little bashful at her observations.

“All I’m saying is that you two love each other a lot. It’s not going to stop after one fight, okay?” She gives you another hug before sending you out the door and back home.

You remember you had told Cass you’d pick Harrison up from his friend’s house, so before your trip to the grocery store, you’d pick up your son so he could help. The two of you went to pick up some of her favorite flowers, Harrison picked out Cassie’s favorite candy, meanwhile, you tried to find a nice ‘I’m sorry’ card that really got the point across.

Of course, you would also say the two words verbally. You are never going to be like your parents in that regard. You actually love your partner. And you also don’t want to subject Harrison to anything like that either; that wouldn’t be fair to him.

“I think she’ll really like these,” Harrison told you, referring to the flowers he held in the nice vase.

“Yeah? I hope so. We did pick out the best ones anyway.” You smile, looking at him for a moment.

The lights are on in the house when your car pulls into the driveway. Harrison carries the flowers while you carry the sweets and the card. You had picked up a small stuffy too, a cute bear holding a little heart. Yeah, it was cheap, but you know she’ll keep it forever. Because that’s Cassie.

You’re, truth be told, a little nervous to set foot in the house. What if she doesn’t like it? Dana assured you for sure, but there’s still that doubt in the back of your mind.

“Alright, let’s go.” You sigh, getting out of the car. Harrison follows, and he’s the first to the door. The living room is empty, as is the kitchen. You tell Harrison to place the flower vase on the kitchen counter and to go find his mom while you set everything else up.

The surprise goes better this time, as there’s no dog to barge in and ruin it. However, you weren’t expecting Cassie to barge in from the front door.

“I can’t find her!” Harrison yells from you and Cassie’s bedroom, coming out into the hall.

“I did.” You respond, your eyes on Cassie’s.

“You did? How-” He cuts himself off as he walks into the kitchen and sees the two of you just staring at each other, and quickly decides to back out of the situation. “Okay….well, I’m going to go to my room now.” Wow, this kid has impeccable ‘reading of the room’ skills.

“Hi.” You say.

“Hey.” She responds. Her eyes look behind you, at the Hydrangeas, candy, card, and the small, stupid stuffy. “What’s that?”

“Oh, yeah, um…” You slide sideways for her to see. “An apology?”

“An apology?” She walks closer to the items.

“Yes. Because I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” She questions. God, she really knows how to pull everything out of you, prompted or not.

“I’m sorry for yelling.”

“And?”

“I’m sorry for slamming the door.” She nods, taking the card from the white envelope and opening it, and that’s the moment everything comes pouring out of you. “I’m sorry for not listening to you when you talk, and I’m sorry for not taking your feelings into consideration, too.”

Her eyes read over the words both on the cover of the card and the inside. “I really am sorry, Cassie. I know you’ve been going through things at work, and I haven’t been there for you. It’s my fault.”

She hasn’t said anything yet. Not that you’re against that, because it’s just mainly been you talking. She just nods and sets the card down by the candy.

“Can you say something?” You beg.

“I’m sorry too.” She sighs.

“You don’t have to be sorry.” You shake your head. “You already apologized to me.”

“Yeah, I know, but I’m sorry.”

The two of you embrace each other. Your arms go around her waist, and the left side of your face rests on her shoulder, while Cassie’s arms go around your shoulders. You raise your head, and she kisses you.

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to be like my parents. I want to know when you’re upset and how I can fix it. So I’m sorry. I got your favorite flowers and candy, I picked up that card, and that small stuffy so maybe it would get across the idea that I do love you, and I’m sorry about the fact that I don’t listen to you all the time when you’re trying to tell me what you’re going through.”

She kisses you again. “I’m sorry for downplaying the birthday party you threw me. I’m sure it was amazing. Thank you for throwing me a party in the first place, baby.”

“You’re welcome.”

“And thank you for apologizing.”

“You’re welcome.”

“But I think I have you beat on the apology gifts.”

“You got me an apology gift? You didn’t have to.” You tell her, frowning as she pulls away from you and goes outside to her truck. You stand there in the kitchen, debating what she could’ve possibly gotten as an apology gift that could beat flowers, a card, sweets, and a small stuffy.

She comes back inside, holding something underneath her jacket. You raise an eyebrow as she walks closer, a small smile on her face. “I may…have gone a little crazy.” She tells you, before bringing out her hand and holding a small kitten.

“Oh, my god.” You’re breathless. “You bought a cat?”

“…yeah…” She says, wincing. She transferred the small animal to your hands, and you brought it up close to your face. “I named her in the car, but you could name her something else, of course. She’s yours.”

“She’s so little, oh my god.” She’s definitely the runt of the litter. She meowed, and that’s when Harrison heard it and came out of his room.

“Is that a cat?” He exclaimed, running up beside you to look.

“Your mom decided flowers weren’t enough, I guess.” You say, letting him hold her.