night fm

Rock Bottom is the name of the bar; it’s quite ironic, and oftentimes you’re left wondering how many people are at their rock bottom visiting this place and getting wasted themselves. It’s old-fashioned with its wooden counters and floorboards, rickety stools, and leather upholstery chairs in the booths. For a slightly run-down place like this, they have a good selection of liquor behind the bar, and the warm lights give off this comforting feeling alongside the easy-going bartender whom you could easily see yourself confiding in after a rough day. Most of the people here are regulars, so it’s easy to spot a new face in the crowd, and surprisingly, you and your friend are one of them, and the barman knows that the two of you only linger around for hours and chat like friends who haven’t seen each other in years.

Tonight, you’re dragged out here by your dear friend, Eman, who also shares the same sentiment as you- because he’s been concerned about your well-being after being assigned to write an article about a serial raper who’s been found dead with more stab wounds in his body than Julius Caesar and his penis cut off. You suddenly went m.i.a for a couple of days after interviewing a few of his victims: all women around your age, and Eman had come knocking on your door earlier this Friday night and practically begged you to go out with him. He has a lithe yet muscular figure, slightly hollowed-out cheeks, an impeccable jawline, and enchanting green irises that are so attractive that people are scared to approach him and ask him out. 

Well, maybe it’s because they think that you two are together since the two of you look inseparable, and the way he’s leaning in to you whilst having a conversation feels intimate to the onlookers’ eyes. The people would be correct if they assumed that something had gone on between the two of you since you were a thing for a good while and certainly had a few unforgettable escapades with each other until you mutually agreed to stay as friends.

Eman cheekily smiles as he takes one of your potatoes and throws it in his mouth as he sees another pair of women stare at him from behind your back; he sends them a wink before returning his attention to you. As Eman would say, you look like the personification of both heaven and hell based on your looks and personality. Heaven because of your kindhearted nature, and always having a hard time saying no to other people, and hell for your stoic expression that’s incredibly difficult to read after a rough day, and that certain glint in your eyes that only he has seen.

“I would’ve gutted that guy out like a fish,” he says, about the man in your news story. He’s always been the one to have no remorse between the two of you- always cracking out dark jokes like it’s what he does for a living. It must be one of the side effects of working at a hospital’s morgue, turning gruesome things into humour so it doesn’t eat your psyche alive.

You take your time to watch the smirk grow in his face while he’s chewing, he’s waiting for your reply, and he stays silent after swallowing. He knows that you don’t tend to take these jokes lightly, especially when the victims are still out there suffering, but he also knows that you tolerate it when criminals have done despicably heinous acts that they don’t deserve to have an ounce of humanity shed upon them when all they’ve been is a monster during their lifetime.

Amused, you raise your brows at him, “and leave a mess for the police to clean up?-”

“--since when were you an advocate in making police’s lives easier?” his jab earns him a deadpan stare from you, which he ignores and grabs another potato from your plate.

“I’m just saying, that’s what he deserves,” you watch as he tosses the cube up into his mouth. It’s subtle, but he begrudgingly chews it as he keeps his sight on you, seemingly forgetting about the girls a few booths away, of which you’re still clueless about. You sigh as you decide not to press on the topic further before it devolves into a conversation that would send weird looks towards your table.

The last piece of the pub potato stares back mockingly at you before you take it, watching Eman as he stares directly in your eyes, trying to gauge your mood for the night. He usually could read whatever is going on in that brain of yours, but he’s stumped tonight, despite knowing you like the back of his hand. Your gaze is empty and cold- colder than they are usually when you’re exposed to cases like this, and it makes him think that you need more than these potatoes to at least liven up your mood, even just for a short while.

“What’s wrong?” There’s no teasing lilt to his voice; he keeps it firm, stable, just in case you need to lean against him if you’re starting to unravel.

You look away from him, watching Dylan, the bartender, fixing up drinks from behind the bar, and a group of office workers leaving their coats behind to play some pool and make bets. They all look okay- content, like they’re capable of leaving their problems behind and not letting it interfere with their hours after work- except for Dylan, of course– but he does seem quite well put together. Then, your eyes lock with a dark-eyed woman, whose stare is dreamy yet calculating, observing all your features and mannerisms from a few tables away. You immediately break the brief eye contact to instead look at a drunken man in the corner of the room, and you silently hope that Eman didn’t catch on with that momentary glance. 

“One of the girls had their index finger bitten off,” you start without looking back at him, but you can feel his eyes on you. “He carried it around like some kind of lucky charm in his car keys,” you finally look back at Eman, his soft gaze a contrast to the storm swirling in your irises.

“He’s a sick fuck that didn’t like it when they put up a fight prolly ‘cause it reminded him that he’s a monster forcing himself on to others,” Eman isn’t far with his assumption, and frankly, he’s correct. The statements of the victims all had a common ground: the man quickly scurried off after, as if he was terrified of what he had done upon realising it. But that wasn’t enough for him to stop his actions; he kept going until he was cornered by three of his victims, who decided that justice is better served with a hunting knife than letting him spend his entire life behind bars.

Once Eman saw the clouds of contrition dissipate from your eyes, he immediately knew where your mind had gone. You never did know how to put your emotions out into words, despite being a journalist; it’s one of your weaknesses and sometimes a strength when put into certain situations. You aren’t interested in entertaining your feelings and emotions either, thinking that they’re merely distractions in your line of work, where objectivity is of the utmost importance. Yet, your co-workers would argue that you’re the most empathetic person they know, which is why they often drag you into working with victims of unspeakable crimes, regardless of whether you’re working on that case or not.

You give Eman a look closely resembling a non-verbal thank you, and he lets his lips curve up into a small smile in return. Approximately an hour later, the two of you never broached the subject about your respective works again, and he bought you another plate of pub potatoes and a can of your favourite soda to make up for finishing your first one.

"Look, see those two women over there?" he points out behind you, and you see two blonde women whispering and giggling to each other while occasionally looking back at your table. Relief suddenly washes over you when you don’t see the woman from earlier anywhere near your field of vision.

You look back at him, confused, "what?" he gives you a look, one that you decipher instantly as you see the familiar gleam of mischief mixed in with persuasion in his eyes, and it causes you to sigh at his antics.

"What?" he echoes with a defensive tone. 

"No," you utter only one word, and he stops. It only takes him a second to reflect on his prior suggestion and quickly understands why you declined him; it's a foolish suggestion after all, and one that would backfire immediately. 

He rapidly drifts his focus back to you from the women a few metres away when you started to gather the plate and cans, eyeing your gentle movements before speaking up: "Leaving so soon?"

You shake your head no, "gonna get another round of diabetes in a can, want one?" he too shakes his head.

"I'm gonna head out now. It's late," you eye him to check for any hints of his shenanigans: his green eyes are calm, his lips are sitting straight, and his fingers don't twitch from excitement. He's all clear, and you raise your eyebrows in slight amusement. 

"I'll see you whenever, I guess," you bid him farewell while walking away with the plate and empty cans.

An amused smile plays on Eman's lips. "I’ll miss you too!” you couldn’t fight the smile trying to break out as you reached the bar, sitting down on the stool with practised ease.

Dylan notices you immediately and sidles up to you after giving a man his beer, "another one?" you nod. 

You place a 20-dollar bill on the countertop, but he shakes his head. "It's on the house. You look like you need it," you shoot him a quick 'thanks' before he goes to serve another customer. You aren’t sure if you should be flattered because of the free soda or be offended since it's implied that you look more tired than usual.

Your fingers start to fiddle with the plastic straw that Dylan had put in the can, and your mind drifts away on how you and Eman first met while watching the straw slowly float back up every time you push down on it. That day was most likely the worst day you've ever experienced during the long 27 years of your life, with your birth being the close second- you’d give anything to forget that particular day, but trauma unfortunately, prevents it like a cruel joke; you could still remember every single detail that happened like it was just yesterday: the kettle wasn’t on the burner, the TV was turned off, everything was disturbingly silent when it-

“You don’t drink alcohol?” a voice rips you away from your thoughts, and you’re grateful for whoever this person is because you don’t know how the night would end if you’d got in your head. You turn your head to look at the owner of the voice- it’s the woman from earlier, and my god is she pretty up close: her messy dark curls are tied up in a ponytail- a testament to her busy day, she’s wearing a tank top, and you can see her toned arms flexing slightly with her elbows placed on the counter, and her eyes… those dark irises could start and end wars if she wanted to, they’re gentle, yet they’ve already deduced who you are based on your looks and movements from when she was watching you across the room.

A small gasp erupts from your lips as you didn’t initially register how close she is to your proximity; you can smell the hints of her perfume that she sprayed on before she started her day: it’s deep, a woody yet floral scent, with a tinge of sweetness, and the musk of her sweat breaks through, making the primal desire of need burn in your veins. There’s no doubt that she heard the sound you made as an amused smirk dances around her kissable lips. 

You look back down at your soda, feeling the heat surge in your cheeks, and it spreads throughout your body. Watching a droplet of condensation slowly trickle down and merge with other tiny droplets, it eventually drips down fully, creating a ring around the paper coaster. A hand swoops in, its tendons flexing as three fingers gently grip the aluminium ring, and you catch sight of her clean, stubby fingernails that are cut neatly to the edge of her nail bed- you can tell she uses her hands a lot in her work. She slowly slides the can towards her, and you follow the action with your eyes. She carefully wraps her lips around the straw and takes a long sip while connecting her gaze with yours, her eyelashes fluttering as she blinks. Your breath stutters, and your eyes flit down to her throat, watching her Adam’s apple bob up and down. You aren’t aware of how your breathing has turned slightly laboured, so you stick your tongue out to wet your drying lips, and her dark irises drift down to see the muscle briefly before thoroughly observing the colour and plumpness of your lips.

The stranger pushes the can back towards you, and the motion snaps you out of your stupor, causing you to blink and take a deep breath. But her intense gaze on you never falters, taking in your suddenly shy demeanour in place of your usual quiet confidence. You don’t look back at her, afraid of how your knees might become weak once you see her predatory stare at you; you can already feel its intensity, and you can picture her once soft irises now turn harsh with hunger written all over them. She taps her fingers against the wooden counter two times before retrieving them as she steps back. You feel relieved, but only for a millisecond, as she leans close to your ear, you can feel her warm breath graze your skin.

“Follow me.” 

The air surrounding you suddenly feels cold as you watch her figure retreat into the small hallway to the bathrooms. It takes you a second to fully comprehend what’s happening, and you can feel your heart start to quicken its pace with anticipation. You quickly down the rest of your soda for a boost of confidence before following the beautiful stranger to the bathrooms. You’ve never done this before: willingly going after someone whose name you don’t even know, and letting her take your reins of control. Usually, you’d let this thing play out, let them kiss you and grope you all they want, making them think that they’ve got you for the rest of the night, until you leave them hanging, watching as you leave with Eman’s arm draped over your shoulders as if nothing had happened. But there’s something in her gaze that makes you want to be manipulated by her; she can destroy you and rebuild you anew to her liking, and you would happily let her. It’s like she can see through you and recognise all your flaws, and become the medicine that could mend you.

Everything sounds like they’re underwater as you trudge through a small group of tipsy people; your senses are heightened, but all you can focus on is the mysterious woman waiting for you. You can hear the faint sound of a man laughing behind you when you turn the corner- there she is. Leaning against the wall with her hands inside the pockets of her comfortable pants, like the ones your friend wears for work, only in a different colour; she, too, must work at a hospital. Her gaze immediately finds yours, the hunger in her stare is so apparent that it makes you swallow nothing, and your heart skips a beat in your chest. You’ve seen that look before; you should be afraid, you should leave, you should listen to the sirens going off in your head, but you don’t. The desire to be touched by her, to be healed by her, overpowers the rationality in your mind, and you take the steps closer to her until you’re right in front of her. She isn’t much taller than you, yet you can feel her control radiating from her, and you’ve already given in to her without having her hands on you, and she’s completely aware of it. She revels in your complete surrender, watching as your eyes have become hazy, waiting for her to make her move.

She carefully takes her index finger and gently tilts your head up by your chin, her soft touch ignites the fire burning deep in your belly, and you feel your nerve endings start to tingle. The sight of you looking through your lashes causes her own heart to beat faster, and she isn’t able to restrain herself any more as she finally leans down and crashes her lips to yours. The kiss starts slow, your mouth feels pillowy soft against hers, and she savours the taste of your lips. She swipes her tongue along the underside of your lower lip, and the sensation of the wet muscle makes you gasp. Like a switch that’s suddenly flicked, her demeanour changes as she takes advantage of your surprise and shoves her tongue inside your mouth. A soft moan escapes your throat when her tongue collides harshly against yours. Her hand comes up and holds your jaw open for you to take the assault on your mouth. Her other hand finds your waist and grips it harshly, enough for it to bruise,  forcing you to move, and she slams your back against the wall. The breath gets knocked out of your lungs, and she nudges your legs open, fingers immediately flying to the button of your pants. Once she unzips your zip, and you can feel the tips of her fingers playing with the hem of your underwear, your mind clears a little, stopping her wrist that’s in between your bodies.

You manage to pull away from her kiss, “not here. Your place, please.” your broken whisper also breaks her out of her lust-filled haze, your hot breath mingling with hers as you both recover from the intensity of the kiss. She nods in agreement to your plea. You feel her curls brush against your cheeks when she looks down to button your pants before taking your hand and pulling you with her, making you stumble as you forget how your legs worked for a second before going along with her. No one bats an eye at the two of you; only Dylan spots you two, and a knowing smile breaks out on his face while serving a customer.

Everything felt like a blur, yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to regret anything that had happened last night. The bed feels warm around you as it engulfs your naked figure; you also notice that the sheets are slightly damp, most likely from sweat since last night’s activities literally kept you both up until dawn. The sunlight that bled through the gaps of the curtains is the culprit that woke you up. You groan as it temporarily blinds you, turning your body so it lands on the pillows instead of directly on your face. It is then that you notice the woman from last night right beside you, with her smooth back turned towards you, her dark curls are splayed out on the pillows, her breathing slow and deep, still governed by sleep. You should feel ashamed because you let this woman consume you without even knowing her name, but something in the depths of your mind tells you that this is precisely where you want to be. You let your eyes rest for five more minutes before eventually getting up, being careful not to wake up the beautiful stranger beside you.

You threw on her baggy Stanford sweater that’s hanging over the back of a chair near a desk since you didn’t see any of your clothing on the floor. Her apartment is spacious, but you didn’t get to see it properly last night, as you only got acquainted with her couch and her bed. As you expected, both yours and her clothing are strewn around the living room, and you even stopped halfway into a step, almost stepping on your shredded underwear near the coffee table, before deciding to gather all the clothing and throw it in a semi-neat heap on the couch, and place your purse that was all the way near the front door, on the coffee table. Only then do you notice the diplomas hanging on her walls. The writing on top reads: ‘Stanford School of Medicine’ and underneath:

Baran Al-Hashimi

“Baran…” you whisper to yourself, and her name rolls off your tongue nicely. So she is a doctor; your hunch was correct last night. 

Not knowing what else to do, you decide to snoop in her kitchen, finding her fridge stocked with various meats, fruits, vegetables, and some leftover protein shakes. Her cupboard is also filled to the brim with spices, each properly labelled and organised just like the rest of her home. You hum, choosing to whip up a simple scrambled eggs for you and Baran, so she doesn't have to worry about breakfast when she wakes up. You certainly hope that she’s okay with you messing around in her kitchen, or else it’s going to be an awkward meal to start the day.

You don’t notice the sounds of her incoming footsteps until you feel her arms wrap around your waist, and she places a lingering kiss on your exposed shoulder, right next to a red mark of her own doing. You can feel your stomach do a backflip, and a smile teases the corners of your lips.

“Good morning,” you greet her and place your empty hand on top of hers, while the other turns off the heat and places the eggs on a nearby plate. 

“G’morng,” her voice is muffled as she murmurs against the skin connecting your neck to your shoulders. She finally lifts her head a few seconds later, placing a quick peck right on the red mark on your shoulder before scooting to stand right next to you.

Baran looks angelic in the late morning; her hair is unkempt yet very appealing, her skin is glowing, her lips are still a little bit swollen from last night, and the hunger in her eyes from the bar is long gone, replaced by one of warmth and appreciation as she stares at you.

“I never got your name last night,” she states while grabbing a fork from a nearby drawer and helping herself with the still steaming hot eggs. You look at Baran briefly before saying your name.

The two of you settle on a small, rounded dining table, just enough to seat at least three people. You aren’t sure which side of Baran you prefer more: her commanding behaviour from last night was certainly thrilling, but this unplanned domesticity of hers tugs at your heart’s strings; it’s something you’ve always wanted to experience with other people since you’ve lived alone most of your life. It’s quite surprising how there’s a stark difference within her; it stirs your curiosity alive as to why she’s even controlling in the first place, and that’s something you’d be willing to figure out even if it takes months or years for her to open up to you. You find yourself unconsciously smiling while talking to her; your mind feels more at peace than it usually is, even more than when you’re with Eman. The sensation is strange; you should be on guard, but all you feel is comfort, and… safety. Her glow is definitely rubbing off on you.

As far as normal conversations go, the topic lands on your current work as the two of you start to get to know each other after exploring your bodies first. You lean back comfortably on the chair as Baran gets the last piece of apple, waiting patiently for you to reveal more about yourself as she chews with a visible smile on her lips.

“I’m an investigative journalist at CIR… Centre for Investigative Reporting,” you can see her eyes drift down to your mouth briefly, and you choose to ignore it, thinking that it’s a reflex rather than an obvious display of her distraction. 

Her eyes widen like a kid opening presents during Christmas. “Really?”

You shrug, “I’m still a baby compared to my co-workers. I still have a lot to learn,” and you won’t forget it because how can you when you’re literally getting yelled at almost every day by your superiors? Thankfully, you have a thick skin, or you’ll be behind the steering wheel, crying before heading home. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, what kind of investigative reporting do you do?” her gaze lingers on each of your features, your eyes, your nose, your cheeks.

“They have me on crimes right now.”

“What kind?” the sound of your sigh makes her stare flicker back to your eyes.

“I interviewed three of his victims… Michael Davis…” you sigh once again, turning your head to the side to look at the sunlight spilling into her living room. 

“You?” Baran looks at you, confused. “What do you do for work?” Baran takes your sudden coldness as a defence mechanism, avoiding the topic so you don’t open the box of feelings you’ve kept locked and hidden at the depths of your mind.

“I’m a doctor,” you can see the concern reflected in her eyes, but she still entertains your question.

“What kind?”

“I’m planning to specialise in emergency medicine,” you hum, and she keeps her eyes on you, following your movements as you stand up and round the table to sit on her lap, your legs dangling on the side of the chair as she instinctively wraps an arm around your waist.

“What?” she notices the way you’re staring at her, eyelids a little bit hooded as you take in the sharp curve of her nose while gently tracing the outlines of her lips with your fingertips. 

“You’d look hot saving someone’s life,” you whisper, and she laughs at your words. You stop the movement of your finger, settling your hand to cup her jaw. Time seems to stand still as you lean in and press a kiss right on top of the left lobe of her head. You feel her momentarily stiffen underneath you before she relaxes into your arms.

“I need to go,” you whisper into her hair, causing goosebumps to erupt in her arms and her spine to tingle due to the vibrations of your voice. 

That was the only moment of domesticity that Baran had shown you these past two months, and sometimes you feel like you’re her sex toy, playing around with you to relieve some pent-up stress and toss you aside after she’s had her fill of you. She’d call or text you to come over after stressful shifts and fuck you until your brain turns into mush on nearly every surface in her apartment, depending on her mood, and the next day, when you wake up, she’s gone. You’ve tried ignoring her, but you can’t stay away from Baran for too long. You simply can't. Her touch is so addicting, and it makes your body burn with the sweetest pleasure you’ve ever felt. You’ve tried to self-regulate by yourself, finding healthy ways to cope and trying to, but nothing could ever beat the feeling of Baran’s hands roaming around your body. There have been times when you’ve noticed a crack in her facade, and it usually happens when somebody else takes a visible interest in you. You’d see her eye twitch, and her grip on her drink would tighten. It makes you think that she’d maybe finally make a move on you, but it never happens.

After telling all of this to Eman because the two of you made a small pact to never keep secrets from each other, he had the great idea of taking you to the club to distract you for a while, for you to focus your energy on him instead of her. Admittedly, you do have a strange relationship with him, as you have done everything together ever since you two first met when you were 17. He would often describe you two as the two sides of the same coin, different yet similar, and inseparable, like one can not exist without the other. There is no more line to be crossed between the two of you, as your boundaries have already merged long ago; there’s no hiding from one another. So when times like this come along, the two of you have no qualms or issues about blurring the thin line between friendship and romance.

His hands are already familiar with the curves of your body, as he had already learned it a long time ago. He knows exactly where the dips of your waist are after having explored it in the dark more times than you can count. You let your arms hang around his shoulders, occasionally letting your fingers run over the back of his neck while his hands dance around the waistband of your jeans, and he palms your ass before grabbing them roughly, causing you to let out an involuntary gasp. As you look up to see his bewitching eyes, you can tell that he’s staring directly at someone from across the room, as if challenging them to join you two. A knowing smile appears on your face, and you tilt your head up to try whispering in his ear.

“Who is it?” he pulls you closer to him, his eyes still on the person.

“A man, late 20s, I think. He’s very fit… and cute,” you giggle as you place your head against his chest, playfully nipping at the base of his neck. 

“I wanna see him,” you immediately spot the man as soon as you turn around. He’s tall, around six feet- maybe more. You can already tell that he has a muscular build from his shirt; he definitely chose that to get laid tonight. He has a stubble, and his hair is a little messy from running his hand through it several times because of his nerves. You lock eyes with him, and you can already tell that he’s excited about how his night is going to turn out.

You hum in approval before tilting your head towards the doors of the club, signalling for him to follow you and Eman. 

“Come on, let’s not keep him waiting.”

Not drinking any alcohol has its own benefits: one, you don’t wake up with a hangover that makes you swear to never consume any alcohol ever again; two, you’re completely aware of the choices you made of the night prior; and three, you know the exact reasons why you’re in your current situation. So, you’re not surprised that you woke up with your body well-spent, aching, covered in love bites and bruises from tightly gripping your skin, and with Baran’s arm slung over your torso, keeping your figure close to her even when she’s asleep. 

To your surprise, at around 03:06 last night, she was waiting for you and Eman to come out of the motel at the car park. She patiently waited for roughly four hours outside in her car until you came stumbling out of the room with your hair dishevelled and slightly damp, and your clothes hastily put on because she had called your phone asking for you. You don’t know how she knew you were in that motel- you aren’t even sure if you want to know how, but all you knew was that she was extremely pissed, and she had grown tired of waiting for you. She had no trouble reminding you of your place and who you belonged to once you had reached her apartment. She was ‘punishing’ you, but all you could think of was how hot she looked while angry and jealous. You had the hunch that Baran was possessive, as she liked to mark you as hers and kept reminding you of it, but you’d never thought that it was to this extent. You’d definitely try deliberately to make her jealous if this is how it ends up all the time. 

You can hear her groan beside you when you shift to face her. It never fails to surprise you how alluring Baran looks in the mornings- well, afternoons. You never get tired of observing the creases in her lips, the arch of her eyebrows, her long eyelashes, the faint discolouration of her eye bags that you find oh so endearing, her nose that you always poke when you have the chance to, and her lips - god you’re addicted to her soft lips, every time she kisses you it feels like you’re finally alive for the first time, and it makes you want to thank every god that’s out there for letting you have the chance to experience kissing her.

“Sleep,” she mumbles with her eyes still closed. 

“I can feel you staring.” There’s a love-drunken smile present on your lips, and it makes Baran smile too when she half-opens her eyes. You stay silent, opting to nuzzle your face into the crook of her neck before letting sleep overtake you once again. 

You let out a sigh of relief when you feel the hot water cascade down your body. You have your eyes closed as you run your hand over your hair to wet it properly, getting rid of the tangles as your fingers go through your locks. When you open your eyes, you can see the blood that has dried on your skin, sticky and congealed, easily getting carried away by the water. You watch as the essence of life flows down your legs and turns into ribbons, swirling around the drain, before disappearing into the darkness. 

Running your hands over your body, your skin is already spotless, not a speck of blood in sight, until you see the dark crimson stuck underneath your nails. You put your finger in your mouth, licking and sucking the remnants away, tasting the faint tang of iron on your tongue. You turn your body towards the bathroom door that’s left open, swapping the digit in your mouth for another as you watch him still feasting on the body. 

His luscious hair is stained red as it falls every so often down his face as he leans to take another mouthful of flesh. He looks up and stares at you; the precious liquid obscures his faint smile, and you can see the state of the body underneath him: most of the meat from his arms and legs is gone, and some parts of his ribs are exposed, only barely visible due to the blood that poured out. His bottom lip is gone, already being digested in the acids of your stomach alongside his fingers that were once playing with the slick in between your legs. His eyes are still open, but his life is already far gone, death holding his hand as it leads him to the afterlife; his blank eyes are staring back at you, his eyebrows are still slightly furrowed by the pleasure of you sucking his cock before getting his throat slit. 

The sight reignites your carnal desire, and your saliva starts to drip down on the corners of your mouth. You bite down, feeling your bones crack with the pressure of your teeth, and the coppery taste of your own blood invades your taste buds. Closing your eyes, you savour the taste of your own flesh, using your molars as you grind the bone down until you can swallow it. You don't notice the presence behind you until you feel his erection press against your lower back, his hands land on the sides of your ribs, cupping your chest. You turn around, looking at his green eyes before offering your hand up to him, he takes your middle finger in his mouth and-

Suddenly, you jolt awake. Your chest is heaving up and down as you desperately expel the carbon dioxide that has built up in your lungs. It feels like someone is lying on top of your chest, and the comforter covering your bare body feels suffocating, causing you to throw it to the side.

You look down at your hands, and your fingers are still fully intact, but the nerves in your fingertips are tingling like you’ve forgotten they existed. There’s no dried blood underneath your fingernails either, and you’re suddenly aware of how parched your throat is. You try your best to anchor yourself back to reality: ‘you’re in Baran’s, you keep repeating in your mind like a mantra to help control your breathing, and your eyes drift around the room, seeing her Stanford sweatshirt hanging on the back of a chair, your clothes scattered around various parts of the room, and the collection of medical books in the corner. Gently, you lie back down, chest still heavy. The horrific images keep flashing back when you close your eyes, and you hope that Baran is still here to provide you with her company to at least regain some of your sanity as you stare at the empty ceiling.

It has been a long week, and all you want is to lie in bed, eat ice cream, and watch the new season of your favourite show. The editors had assigned you multiple articles all at once, and gave you the end of the week as the deadline, so you were on the move and typing with each chance you got. It also didn’t help that Baran is most likely ignoring you or has already forgotten about you. 

You texted her asking if she was okay after she admitted to having a particularly hard shift, and she still hasn’t replied to you. That was on Tuesday; it’s now Saturday, early evening. You already anticipated this from her; she has already done this several times before, but never this long. Usually, she’d call you a day later, telling you she was busy and would say that she’d make it up to you, and she would, giving you orgasms after orgasms, but now she’s radio silent. 

It worries you a little: what if something had happened to her, but that’s highly unlikely. Your stomach twists at the thought that she’d finally get tired of you. Others might think that you’re an idiot for hoping on someone you’re engaging casual sex in, but you don’t really care what they think.

Everything in your apartment building looks normal, it’s quiet, none of your neighbours is having a screaming match with their partners, and your front door appears to be untouched until you slide your key in the lock to find it turns easily with little effort. For others, it usually means that someone has broken into their apartment, but that isn’t the case with you, and you already know what’s waiting for you on the other side of the door.

“This is why I need to change my locks,” you immediately state while closing your door and locking it behind you.

There, lying down comfortably on your couch, is Eman, flipping through the TV channels like it’s his job to find a decent enough station to keep him entertained for hours until he knocks himself out. His shirt isn’t even on; he tossed it on the other end of the couch along with his pants, acting like he’s in his own apartment. He turns his head and looks at you with the same unimpressed expression you have.

“I know how to pick locks,” he says as if it’s common knowledge.

“I’ll move and not tell you,” you start doing your little routine every time you come home. You take your shoes off and place them on the rack near the door, you hang your keys on the hook above the shoe rack, you unbutton your shirt and unbuckle your belt while walking towards your couch, and you place your bag on top of the coffee table right next to Eman’s leg, which you nudge for him to cross his legs one over the other.

“You won't be able to live without me,” he reasons, looking up at you with an innocent stare.

“Try me,” you counter, only for him to give you a small, pitiful-looking smile. “I’d rather not.”

The couch cushions bounce when you drop next to him. He gives you a judgmental stare when your knee touches his feet as you man spread while stretching your arms and neck, and he gets a good view of your bra as your shirt shifts to the side. 

“Why are you here anyways?” he shrugs, his focus is fixated on the random advert on the TV.

“Figured you wanted some company,” once again, you give him an unimpressed look that he sees in his peripheral.

“I made some smoked brisket,” he points backwards to your dining table. You crane your head to look back and see an aluminium tray covered with foil.

You look back at Eman, wondering what the special occasion is for him to cook beef. “Did you get promoted or something?” Tucking your legs under you, he once again switches the channel.

“Kinda. The old man finally hired me as an embalmer for his morgue.” You adjust your leg to feel more comfortable.

“You quit the hospital?” After adjusting your position for the second time, you gave up and instead decided to lie down almost completely on top of him, and his hand that isn’t busy fiddling with the remote goes to rub up and down your back.

“Nope. Working two jobs now.”

“I thought you were doing fine?” briefly, you look up at him, seeing his messy hair start to get in the way of his eyes, and you instinctively reach up to move the hair out of his face.

“I am.”

“Then why are you working a double?” he visibly pauses, but still keeps his gaze on the rerun of a crime show.

“Y’know, I came here to tell you something, not to be interrogated,” you scoff at him, yet you don’t move but instead sink further into him to feel his warmth.

“Just talk already. Whaddya want?”

“It’s about your doctor booty call.”

“What?” you finally lift your head to look at him, and he looks back at you. The dialogue on the show becomes background noise as Eman tries to decipher the look you have: you only seem slightly unbothered, but he feels your heart beat pick up with your chest against his side.

“You do know that whatever you two have is unhealthy, right?”

“I noticed that you’re trying to be a better person. I’ve never seen you go out of your way to check up on me and other people you used to not give a fuck about, but now you are. And it’s been happening since you met that girl… If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that you’re into me again.” 

You chortle, amused at his words, “yeah, sure. The only time I’ll be thinking of that is when I’m considering the tax benefits of marriage.” 

It scares you a little bit just how Eman knows you. You’ve been by his side for 10 years now, and things are certainly not better than before when compared to the present. It was a miracle that you two graduated from college, and now, despite all your student loan debt, you’re living quite comfortably, which is something you never thought was possible. Even though you and he could’ve gone your separate ways, especially after you two decided to stay as friends, your life would feel empty without him.

“But seriously, I’ve never seen that girl, so I don’t know what’s gotten you all hung up over her, but it’s like you’re intentionally fixing yourself only to let her destroy you over and over again. And you keep letting her, why?”

He’s aware that you’re wary about relationships since you’re used to putting yourself first because you’ve never had the privilege to go after other people when you were barely surviving all by yourself. When you wanted to let go and crave the warmth of other people in your bed, you never had to look far because you took care of each other. So it surprised him when you told him that you were sleeping with somebody else, mostly because he knew that you only show your body to people you trust, not strangers.

“... I don’t know,” you confess. “I really don’t. But all I know is that she’s the only person that I’ve been having…” you pause with bated breath. “Second thoughts about.” You hear Eman say your name sympathetically while looking at you, and you stare off into the distance.

“Okay… just… promise me you won’t lose yourself because of her.” 

You look back at him, seeing his soft gaze at you. “I promise.” The two of you lie down in silence for a minute before he breaks it.

“You starving?” 

“Yeah.”

“Then let’s eat.” 

You have ditched your button-up shirt and slacks for a comfier oversized shirt that you have most likely stolen from Eman, and opted to go bottomless with only your underwear on, copying your lovely friend. The two of you are eating the brisket in comfortable silence while watching the TV, completely invested in the drama between the main characters. Eman didn’t want to get his hands dirty and was too lazy to get up and grab himself a fork, so you’re also feeding him while he lets you lie down on top of him. 

This is how you usually spend your weekends with each other when you’re not out at the Rock Bottom or dragged into a club by your colleagues to celebrate something. The two of you are highly aware that whatever you have is unusual or unconventional, as it doesn’t seem very friend-like, but you two can’t ignore the bond you have of each other. Occasionally, when Eman’s out visiting his family in other states, you feel sick both emotionally and physically, and it’s the same for him when you’re away due to your work. This bond is the reason why you started out as a couple, but it eventually fizzled out. It’s how you found out that you were only meant to be around each other but not together.

Eman has his arms wrapped around you when you go back to your previous spot after rinsing off the aluminium tray, his eyes barely open as he tries to fight sleep to keep watching the show. The way you’re stroking his hair isn’t helping him either, as the comforting feeling starts to lull him to sleep. You’re about to drift off as well as the clock has already hit past 11, and the exhaustion from the week is finally catching up to you. But the sudden ringing of your phone jumps you both awake making him grumble under his breath. You quickly say your apologies to him as you reach over to the coffee table for your phone. Your heart skips a beat when you finally see who’s calling you. Baran. Of course, who else would call you in the middle of the night except for her? Eman immediately notices the nerves that briefly appeared on your face when you looked at him as if you were asking him whether you should take the call or not. He nods.

You accept the call, “come over.” She ends the call immediately. You only give Eman an apologetic look before he once again lies back down on your couch and closes his eyes while you go to your bedroom to find yourself some pants. Even though Baran might pull away from you for reasons you don’t know, you’ll always come running to her when she requests you.

It’s quiet when you arrive at Baran’s apartment. The lights are dim, and her curtains are drawn open despite only seeing darkness outside. It’s strange. Most of the time, you don’t even make it to her living room because she’s already on you, yet as you step further into her home, it feels like there’s no one there. But as you get closer to the living room, you spot her familiar figure lying down on the couch.

“Baran?” you call out to her. 

She’s looking up at the ceiling, the neckline of her loose-fitting shirt askew, exposing the skin of her shoulder, her right hand is dangling on the side, and her eyes are glassy with the remnants of tears still present around them. She only tilted her head to glance at you before she went back to staring into thin air. Your heart sinks at this sight; you’ve known Baran to be confident, an advocate to those who are failed by the system. You can’t stand seeing her like this, and you’re unsure if she wants to talk it out with you, afraid that you might cross the line and make her uncomfortable. You kneel on the floor, placing your bag down right next to you. Your fingers instinctively reach out to tuck the loose strand out of her face to the back of her ear. You let your fingertips linger on her skin before cupping her jaw and caressing her cheekbone using your thumb. She lets out a breath, her tired eyes locking with yours as she lifts her right hand to place above yours.

“Do you want to talk?” your voice is low, afraid that if you talk any louder, she’d scuttle away. She blinks at you, contemplating your question.

“Just… stay with me… please?” you can feel your chest tighten upon hearing her voice break. She grips your hand tighter, and she closes her eyes. She wants to feel your warmth, for you to be closer to her, so she can feel the blood pumping in your veins. Her eyes flutter open when you stand up.

“Let’s get you in your bed, okay?” She nods, letting you help her stand up.

Baran holds your hand during the short walk to her bedroom, and you let her lie down on her bed, tucking her in. She looks up at you with a puzzled expression as you do so, “I’ll clean up first, then I’ll stay with you, hm?” You lean down to press a soft kiss on her forehead. You can clearly see how disheartened she is through her eyes, they’re one of your favourite features on her, her dark brow eyes that can unravel you with just one look. But currently, they’re devoid of that fire that you’re always hypnotised by, and it makes you wonder exactly what had happened to her.

You had spotted the clutter on her coffee table and in her kitchen when you initially walked in. It reminded you of the times when you had gotten into your mind and couldn’t stop the haunting memories from replaying over and over again. Her white coat along with her bag, was just thrown onto the coffee table, there’s empty take-out bags and styrofoam containers scattered all over her countertop. Closing the curtains is the last chore on your list; you figured that it was an interesting order to do things, as it lets you finish it off properly. 

When you return to her bedroom, you find that she’s still awake, with her sights on the door, waiting for you to come back. It feels endearing for her to patiently wait for you, and you feel a little bad about making her wait, even if it’s just for a short while. She immediately buries her face into the crook of your neck once you lie down next to her, inhaling your scent as she places her nose directly against your pulse. You wrap your arms around her, your hand immediately finding its way to her scalp, softly massaging it with your fingertips. 

Baran lets out a small sigh, “you smell different. Were you with somebody else?” You can feel the vibrations of her voice against your skin.

“Mhm, my friend visited me earlier.” She hums when you massage a spot on the left side of her head.

“What’d you do?” she replies with her eyes closed, still taking her sweet time breathing you in.

“He got another job, and we ate the brisket he made. Then we watched some TV. It was some rerun of a show- I don’t know what it’s called.”

She pulls her head away from your neck, and you halt your movements on her scalp. Her eyes still look dull, yet some of that fire had already come back, one that you’re most familiar with. You let your hand drag down from her hair to her nape as she slowly leans in towards you. She pauses with your lips an inch away, her eyes staring at your mouth as if she’s contemplating whether you’ll let her kiss you. She tilts her head to the side, your noses brushing against each other briefly, and she pauses again. 

Her dark irises flicker up to yours, “can I?” This is the very first time she asks you for verbal consent; she always assumes that you’re ok with it because you keep on encouraging her to do whatever she wants with you.

Baran’s eyes drift back down to your lips before letting them touch softly. You’ve missed the feeling of her lips against yours, soft and warm. You let your arms come up to hold her face, pulling her closer to you. She releases a satisfied sigh through her nose as she guides the two of you to lie down on your sides. You can feel the tip of her tongue touch the bottom of your lip, and you let her in; she takes the lead, guiding you gently as you slowly stroke her jawline.

You pull away, seeing her looking at you with gentle adoration, “we don’t have to do anything.” She carefully grips the wrist of your hand that’s still caressing her jaw.

“I want to… I want to feel all of you.”

Baran has a way with her hands. Perhaps it’s because she’s a doctor, and she knows how to use them in different ways, but you’ve never felt love from someone’s touch. Her hands delicately roamed around your body like you were made from porcelain, giving each part of you her full attention until you felt sensitive. Her tongue traced intricate patterns in your skin that had you curling your toes and whimpering out her name, whispering praises into your ears. She easily made you see stars despite taking her time with you, yet you could feel everything. Every little touch, the small differences in her thrusts, the heat of her body against yours, and her hidden affection for you. She doesn’t even realise that she’s starting to feel something for you, yet it already shows. If this is what it feels like to be loved by Baran Al-Hashimi, then you’d start to pray and start giving offerings to all the gods and wish for her to love you.

You and Baran are lying side by side with your backs against the bed. She’d raised your arm to the moonlight, inspecting the way your fingers move and the contrasts of the shadows against your skin. When you brought your hand down, you felt her move. She’s now lying on her side, head propped up on her hand as she anchors her elbow against her bed. You turn your head to the side to see her: she’s staring down at you with a faint smile on her face, her curls freely flowing down her shoulders, her dark, disarming eyes filled with her utmost devotion for you; it makes your heart stutter, and you fear that she might be able to hear your heartbeat with how close you are to each other. 

The muscles of her neck connecting it to her shoulders catch your attention, your eyes linger on the mole on the side of her neck, feeling the urge to pepper the sharp line of her jaw with kisses until you start to nose its underneath, dragging your touch over to her chin, you start to imagine feeling her pulse beating rapidly against your lips, and you can feel your mouth start to salivate. Your breathing starts to get deeper, your eyes become hazy, and you unconsciously swallow. The sensation of your throat moving brings you back to reality, and you notice that Baran is still staring down at you. She finally moves, placing a soft, lingering kiss on your temple before whispering goodnight and wrapping her arms around your waist to keep you close to her.

In an unusual turn of events, Baran wakes up to see that you aren’t sleeping beside her. The sheets are already cold, devoid of your presence, yet your scent on her sheets lingers. She thought that she’d see you in the kitchen, humming to yourself while cooking breakfast, but no. You aren’t in her apartment any more. Her lips curve downwards into a frown, already missing your presence. When she steps into her kitchen, she sees a full array of breakfast waiting for her: a couple of pieces of toast alongside scrambled eggs, fruits cut into bite-sized pieces, and tea made in the way she likes it. She has already bitten into a toast before she notices the small note tucked beneath the plate. It reads: Sorry B but something urgent came up. I hope this breakfast can serve as my apology. I’ll be back in a bit. Don’t miss me too much! You signed it off with your nickname with a heart and a smiley face on the side. This small gesture made her heart swell, and she finds herself eating the breakfast you made with a constant grin on her face. Now, Baran’s suddenly anticipating your return back into her arms.

The clock had barely hit 11 o’clock when Baran heard the distinct knocking on her door, three knocks, just like you always do. She’s been lounging around after taking a shower, catching up on her charting, waiting for you to arrive. There’s a genuine smile plastered on Baran’s face when she opens the door, seeing you wear her college sweater. A sudden burst of possession fills her veins, feeling proud to see her clothing on your body.

“Hi,” you greet her happily, and she immediately pulls you inside her apartment by your waist, peppering kisses all over your face before finally placing one on your lips. 

She can feel your smile in the kiss before she pulls away. “I missed you.” Baran places her forehead on your shoulder, causing you to giggle.

“I was only gone for a little bit.”

“Felt like forever,” she groans, and you let her sulk for a bit, knowing that she isn’t actually upset by you. She eventually led the two of you to her couch, closing her laptop since her charting can wait until later.

Baran has you perched on her lap with your pants already tossed away to the side, her hands slipping underneath her sweater to feel the warm skin of your waist while delicately shoving her tongue in your mouth. Hearing your soft moans spurs her on, encouraging you to rock your hips against her. You couldn’t help but let out a louder moan when your clothing starts to rub on your sensitive bundle of nerves, and it excites the doctor underneath you further. The sudden, sharp pain that erupts on your bottom lip makes you yelp in surprise. She sinks her teeth into your lip and pulls away, and you start to taste the savoury yet metallic liquid in your mouth. 

Baran had bitten your lip hard enough to draw blood. It takes a while for you two to pull away from each other, but once you do, you can see the remnants of your crimson liquid spread around her lips, and some had started to dry at the corner of her mouth. She made a show of licking your blood off her lips, deliberately running her tongue along her mouth slowly, and she sees you watch her intently. Your eyes start to dilate, and you can smell the coppery hint beneath your nose, feeling the warm liquid from your lip drip down to your chin. Baran notices how you’ve gotten quiet, your breathing has visibly slowed, and your pupils have almost taken over the colour of your irises. A sudden rush of heat courses through her body as she realises you’ve entered a headspace of some kind. Your senses suddenly feel hyperreactive, instantly missing the warmth of her hand that was splayed across your waist, yet your head feels cloudy. 

She takes her index finger and swipes at the still-warm blood on your chin. You watch as her finger stills in the air for a second before you grab her wrist and place her finger in your mouth. Baran starts to breathe through her mouth, her lips slightly agape as your tongue swirls around her finger, sucking the liquid off and tracing the creases of her digit, letting the muscle drag along the underside of her nail as you lock eyes with her. You release her finger with a pop, and there’s drool on the corners of your mouth, the back of your hand instantly wipes the saliva off, and you feel her hands slide back underneath the sweater to run her thumbs across your nipples.

Unable to control your impulses any more, you take Baran’s face in your hands and smash your lips together harshly. Your tongues and teeth clashing as you taste your own blood in her mouth, pulling away, you place wet kisses and gently nibble on her skin as you go down to her neck. Taking a deep inhale, you breathe her in, smelling the faint scent of her lotion mixed with her body wash as you put your nose against her pulse point. You start to trail kisses down her shoulder before briefly pausing, quickly swallowing your saliva before biting down on the flesh of her upper arm just beneath her joint. You barely hear her moan out in both pain and pleasure as the sounds around you feel muted. You manage to stop quickly, only making a shallow bite mark, pulling back, you trace your tongue around the ridges of the mark of your teeth on her skin, you muttered a quick apology, but you’re immediately shut up by Baran as she grabs your hair and tugs on it roughly causing for a moan to erupt out of your throat as she bares your throat to her, before she leans into your ear. 

“You’re a fucking freak,” the sound of her deep voice made the pulsing in between your legs more noticeable, and you started to shift, feeling your wetness soak through your underwear and into the fabric of her shorts. She chuckles, hearing the small whimper you made as she tightened her grip on your hair before once again kissing you like she wants to eat you whole. She stares at your lust-blown pupils for a moment before she attacks your neck, biting and suckling harshly on the thin skin as she tugs on your hair harder like she’s enacting revenge after your little stunt. The dull pain that covers the span of your neck causes the slick in between your legs to start to drip, making the dark patch of wetness on Baran’s cotton shorts more prominent.

Her free hand palms your stomach, slowly inching down your underwear, fingers swiping against your dripping wet slit. “This all for me?” she questions you, yet she doesn’t let you answer. “Of course it is.” There’s a smug smile present on her lips, and you can feel your head spin at the sight of it.

Your phone immediately rings after you ride out your high as if it knew that you had just orgasmed. The incessant ringing makes you groan internally as Baran reaches for it on the coffee table. You thank her as she hands the device to you. Eman’s frantic voice immediately floods your ears, asking for your assistance. You mutter a quick ‘okay’ to him before ending the call. Baran lets out a breathy giggle when you nuzzle your face deeper into her neck and wrap your arms around her tightly.

“I don’t want to go, can you keep me here?” you whisper into her ear like a child not wanting to sleep.

“You’re free to see other people. I’m only asking for your company, not commitment.”

You and Eman had always thought that celebrating birthdays was a waste of time and money. But when things had become financially stable a few years ago, he had brought you your first-ever birthday cake; the two of you ate the whole cake in one sitting. It’s become a small tradition for you to bake him his favourite fudgy brownies, and you’d wait for him outside the hospital, sitting on the boot of your car with the freshly made brownies and ice cream next to you. He used to hate this because he felt like a little kid with his parents waiting for him outside his school, but he warmed up to the idea after his colleagues had confessed to him that they were jealous of him because he had a girl waiting for him outside with his favourite chocolate dessert. 

Since it’s his birthday today, you’re parked near the exit of the hospital for him to immediately spot you when he clocks out. The sun is out, and the skies are clear this late summer afternoon, and you’re hanging around near the shade, already helping yourself with the brownies you made. You didn’t need to wait long as Eman exited the hospital a few minutes later. He’s ditched his scrub top and put on a loose-fitting shirt since he knows you’ll be waiting for him, and he didn’t want you to smell the formaldehyde in his scrubs. There’s a wide grin present in his features as soon as he sees you, and it grows wider upon seeing the fudgy dessert in your hand. 

As soon as he reaches you, he immediately leans down to take a huge bite out of the brownie in your grasp. “Hey!” you complain, but he waves you off.

“I get a free pass ‘cause it’s my birthday,” he says with a smirk, making you roll your eyes at him.

“Still not a good reason to act like an asshole.” He shrugs, getting his own brownie from the Tupperware, while you give him his tub of ice cream along with a plastic spoon.

“Have I told you how much I love you?” there’s a teasing lilt to his voice, yet there’s a genuine glint in his eyes.

“Plenty of times, I’m pretty sure,” you say after taking a spoonful of ice cream. He sits down next to you, your legs touching.

“Doesn’t feel like it.”

You look at him with teasing wonder,“ you getting all sappy on me now?”

“No. I’m just trying to appeal to your sympathy to get more brownies.” Once again, you roll your eyes at him.

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere.”

“It got me to where I am now.” It took every ounce of your control not to smack the smirk off his face, and he laughs, seeing your restraint.

“Thank you for this, by the way,” he finally drops his teasing act.

“As much as I hate saying this, but I’m glad you’re around,” you avoid making eye contact with him as you distract yourself by eating. “I don’t know what I’ll do without you,” you finally look back at him to see his green eyes already staring back at you.

You lean in to him, “happy birthday.” You whisper near his ear before placing a quick, appreciative peck on his cheek.

The sweet moment doesn’t last long as a familiar voice calls out your name. Looking towards the direction of the sound, you see Baran walking towards you and Eman. Despite the distance, the stone-cold glare present in her eyes makes your palms sweat and causes your heart to beat faster. You’ve seen that look in her irises before. During the night she fetched you from the motel. You can’t hide the fact that you’re very attracted to her when she’s angry, but there’s something swirling in her eyes that is akin to a murderous look; you can feel her anger even when she’s metres away, and it terrifies you.

But next to you, Eman’s perplexed, as seen by his furrowed brows and the slight tilt of his head. “Dr. Al?” hearing her shortened last name come out from his lips makes you freeze.

“You know her?”

“A little.” 

Baran tries to reel in her anger so as not to make a scene when she nears the two of you. She saw how close the boy from the morgue had gotten to you, along with the stupid longing look in his eyes, and the way you kissed his cheek certainly did not help quell her rage. She takes a couple of deep breaths before stopping in front of you.

“Can I talk to you real quick?” she ignores Eman, staring directly at you instead.

“Oh uh, sure,” you and Eman lock eyes, before you drop from your seat at the boot, patting your outfit down so you at least look a bit presentable.

Before you could say anything else, Baran was already walking away from you, making you jog up so you could catch up to her. You’re still a bit mad and disappointed in yourself for hoping that she might have feelings for you too, but seeing her act like this puzzles you. She was the one to say that you’re free to see other people, so what is she upset about?

She leads you to her car, she stays silent, clenching her jaw while she opens her car door with excessive force and assumes the driver’s seat, tossing her bag to the back. You stand still, confused, not knowing what to do because you didn’t expect her to say nothing and just hop in her car. She quickly glances at you while turning her ignition, the engine roaring to life.

“Get in,”

“But-”

“I said. Get. In.”

Swallowing your nerves, you silently thank yourself that you left your keys inside your purse in your car so Eman could drive it home if you don’t come back. You almost trip over your own feet as you obediently follow her orders like a trained dog. The interior smells exactly like Baran, deep, with a small hint of sweetness and her signature musk. She doesn’t spare you another look as she pulls out from her parking spot, her dark irises entirely focused on the road ahead while you fidget nervously at the passenger’s seat. 

The air is thick, filled to the brim with unspoken tension as Baran’s rage practically buzzed off her figure. Her grip on the steering wheel is tight, and her jaw has started to hurt from grinding her teeth. The car ride feels too short yet too long at the same time; you dread what is about to happen once you arrive at her place. 

The loud bang of the apartment’s door as she slammed it shut made you flinch. She saw you jump at the noise, but didn’t care whether you were afraid of her or not. The image of you cosying up with a man and kissing his cheek is burned in her retina. She wanted to rip you away from him, to show him who you belonged to as she took you from behind for him to see how she could fuck you mindless without hearing any complaints from you. You are hers, no one else’s. Especially not morgue boy’s. 

“Are you that desperate of a slut to be fucking around with that boy?” the tone of her voice startles you.

“He’s only a friend, Baran,” you calmly explain, following her to the kitchen.

“Really? You kissed him. Is that what friends do? Do friends fuck each other now, too?” your frustration starts to bubble up, yet you try not to let it show.

“On the cheek-”

She cuts you off, “so you didn’t fuck him in that disgusting motel?” Baran faces you, her sharp stare pierces through you as if she has seen everything you’ve done. You’re surprised by her gall, making your jaw drop in amusement.

“What the hell is this, Baran? This,” you gesture your finger back and forth towards you and her, “is just sex! You made that clear a few days ago!” She takes a step and backs you off to the fridge.

“You’re mine! How many times do I have to fuck you to make that clear in your head?!” Her hand flies up to your jaw, gripping it tightly, her fingers digging into the hollows of your cheeks. You can clearly see the fire burning in her eyes, looking down at you like you’re an object to own instead of a human being.

You take her wrist and harshly pull her hand away. “You fuck me and you tell me that this is not commitment, but you stop me from seeing anyone else!” She takes a step closer to you, leaning down as if she’s about to kiss you.

“Fine.” Her voice drops, and the eerie calmness of her tone causes the little hairs on your nape to contract.

Baran tilts her head to whisper in your ear, “I’ll let you play around with whoever you want. But don’t forget that you belong to me.”

With one last thrust of her hand, the pressure in your lower abdomen finally releases, your hips bucking up uncontrollably as Baran drags out your orgasm. You whine when you feel her fingers slowly slip out of you. Your eyes are struggling to stay open, becoming heavy after three back-to-back orgasms as Baran tests your limit. 

“You can give me another one, right?” with your eyes closed, you still nod your head in response. 

Baran smiles, “Good girl.”

Her fingers return to your sex, your hips instinctively pulling away from her due to overstimulation; she tsks, pinning your lower half down to the bed, she circles your clit before drifting down to tease your hole, causing it to involuntarily flutter. 

“So greedy,” she whispers against your ear, pushing three of her digits back in your cunt. The pleasurable burn of the stretch causes a broken moan to erupt from your lips and a devilish grin to appear on her lips. 

Baran drags her lips from your temple to your jaw, nibbling gently where she can feel the subtle yet quick thumping of your pulse. flattening her tongue against your skin, she licks a stripe from the base of your neck to the sensitive spot beneath your ear, a whimper spills from your lips as she times it with a hard thrust. She breathes in your scent deeply before sinking her teeth on the spot where your shoulder connects with your neck, effectively drawing blood, ripping your flesh away as you stay still, your hands gripping the sheets tightly. She pulls away from you, seeing your blood staining her teeth, dripping down from her mouth to the length of her neck, watching the crimson droplets slide down the curves of her breasts. 

Her eyes hold a look of pure hunger, the desire to eat you whole swirls in her bewitching dark irises. She leans back down, drinking and sucking blood directly from the gaping wound. You feel her tongue poke into the hole and tries to dig down to feel your bone, excruciating pain floods your nerves, the gut-wrenching scream you let out doesn’t deter Baran as she slides down your body, removing her fingers from your cunt, head descending directly above your heart. You grip her hair tightly in your hands, her teeth sinking into the fat at the side of your breast. her fingers that were previously deep inside your cunt hooks against the broken skin, your slick still dripping down her hand. You can feel her nails scratch against your ribs, trying to reach your heart to feel it beating in her palms. 

She comes up, the lower parts of her face completely drenched in blood, and she kisses you with hunger-filled fervour, clashing her tongue to yours, forcing you to taste your own blood and flesh as she leans her body weight onto the hand that’s trying to pry your ribs open. You feel your ribs crack, screaming into Baran’s ravenous mouth as she explores the insides of your chest cavity, caressing you in places that should never be touched. 

Your scream wakes you from your sleep, taking a tumble off the bed, the dull pain that erupts on the side that you landed on knocks the lingering sleep off you. You’re drenched in your own sweat, your chest feels tight as the phantom pain from your nightmare makes you panic, causing your hands to fly to the areas that Baran had feasted on you. 

A long, exhausted sigh escapes your lips as you try to grasp reality. Everything had felt real- too real. From her fingers buried in your cunt to her trying to claw your heart and lungs out, and you feel too exposed, like your whole body was splayed out for her to study anatomy on. These dreams- nightmares have been too vivid, and it all consists of Baran. 

She doesn’t come across your mind too often during your waking moments, but when you finally close your eyes, it’s a different story. It’s during times like this that you fully realise how much you truly desire her, to the point where you’re letting her consume you whole just to sate her hunger for you, even though she’s fucking with your head, giving mixed signals. You love Baran with your whole being, flesh, blood, bones- everything. It doesn’t bother you to have these dreams when all it represents is your willingness to give your life for her. It’s the truth, your love, in its rawest, visceral form; you won’t run away from it nor turn a blind eye to it because if you do so, you’ll only be lying to yourself, hiding from your true nature. 

His lips feel different compared to what you’re used to; the angles of his face are much sharper, and his jawline is more defined. His hands are a little bit rough, and they spread wider on your back, almost reaching both ends of your torso. But her hands are softer, touch precise and controlled, her palms feel warmer when they touch your bare skin. You feel breathless every time she’s kissed you like she’s physically stealing your breath away, his just feels familiar, unchanging even after years later. 

The heat that’s trapped in your body is becoming unbearable after days of seeing her in your sleep. You’re settling for what’s convenient for you to have a release, so you won’t be walking around with drenched underwear, reminiscing about her, but nothing will beat Baran’s presence. She’s naturally commanding, and it makes you want to kiss the ground she’s walking on as you’re always in awe at her; Eman’s the opposite, he’s gentle and will only do something if you requested for him to.

Usually, you hate clubs. They’re loud, it’s dark, yet sometimes the lights are blinding, and the strong scent of alcohol that’s stuck to other people makes your nose hurt. Overall, it’s an overstimulating experience, yet it’s your idea to drag Eman out and into one of the clubs in SoMa, far away from your apartments, especially the doctor’s who keeps starring in your dreams. You felt like you were starting to go insane without seeing her, and it’s a perfect distraction for the two of you to go out, even though you don’t drink; watching intoxicated people is already entertaining enough to watch. 

The night had started out innocently, you and Eman telling stories of the absurd things that had happened in your week, until he led you to the dance floor. The crowded bodies had forced the two of you to get closer to each other, hands playfully dancing across your skin, slowly letting his fingers apply more pressure and linger longer, then it turns into unashamed groping. Eman noticed how tense your shoulders appeared from a distance away, so naturally, he does what he’s always been doing: trying to give you comfort and the opportunity to clear your mind, even for only a couple of hours.

Once you curl your fingers around his hair to pull him closer to you, an unsettling sensation flutters in your stomach, and you feel the temperature in the room start to change, like the thermostat has turned down a few degrees. You open your eyes, looking through the empty space between the sea of bodies. There, sitting down on a stool at the bar, is the woman torturing you in your dreams, her legs are crossed, leaning her elbow against the countertop and her gaze is directed at you. Watching you play around with Eman, seeing his hands wander down to your bottom, and giving them a teasing squeeze.

“You wanna leave?” he whispers in your ear when he pulls away. He doesn’t notice that your attention is laid elsewhere, busy placing wet, open kisses along your neck. 

Baran locks eyes with you. She stays still, patiently waiting for your next move. Your stomach churns with unease; the blatant display of a cruel power move renders you unable to make a rational decision. You want to stay with Eman so that you can hang on to his stability, where your night wouldn’t end up in a whirlwind of emotional disasters. But everything in you is screaming to walk over to her.

“She’s here,” your voice comes out in a hush.

But Eman hears it. “What? Dr. Al?” He assumes that the answer is yes as he sees you looking over his shoulder, mentally debating with yourself on what to do.

“I won't stop you if you go to her,” he says with a genuine tone, even though he’s already warned you not to lose yourself over her.

It’s silly that you even considered not paying attention to Baran when you’re only going to listen to your desires. By the time you separate yourself from Eman, she’s already disappeared from the bar. You check the bathrooms first, but there are no signs of her there. If you were to make a guess, she’s most likely gone outside, seeing as she’s not exactly fond of mingling in crowds, yet you still scan the people on the dance floor just to make sure. There are no direct indications of her presence once you step outside, but the sight of her car parked right across the club catches your eye. She’s already in the driver’s seat, with the engine turned on. Baran already knew that you were going to follow her; she just wanted to see the extent of her control over you with her own eyes. She can feel the corners of her mouth threaten to lift, clearly satisfied.

No words are exchanged when you enter her car and assume the passenger seat next to her. You couldn’t look her in the eyes, feeling embarrassed that you thought you could defy her and let other people touch you when she’s evidently already put her claim on you. Watching the streetlights pass through the window, the buildings start to become sparse when she exits San Francisco, driving south. She breaks the silence when nearing her apartment building.

“How long have you known each other?” You didn’t expect her calm questioning, expecting her to assert her dominance over you.

“Eman? About 10 years,” you answer, a little wary of what she’s going to do next. She briefly looks at you when she enters a turn.

“That’s a long time.” You hum at her, resting your head against the glass, looking at her side profile. The lustre in her eyes shifted quickly; you almost didn’t see it. Baran felt her heart wrench upon learning that you and Eman have a long history; knowing she can’t compete with someone you’ve already known for a long time and someone who intricately knows you. 

There are a thousand words you want to say to her, to let her know that there’s nothing even close to romantic happening between you and him, but you decide to remain silent, giving her the chance to say something- anything. Instead, she becomes distant, not sparing a glance towards you when she exits the car after parking. The silence continues after entering her apartment. She takes her time taking off her shoes and places them inside the shoe rack near the front door. You do the same, following right behind her.

When the two of you enter her bedroom, she starts to unbutton her shirt but leaves it on and sits on the bed, her back against the wooden headboard: she’s offering for you to sit on her lap, and you obey her silent order. She slips her hands underneath your shirt, tracing mindless circles on your skin with her thumb, her gaze is focused on anything but you, purposefully avoiding looking at your eyes to not see the expression on your face. You can see the tangled mess of her thoughts in her dark irises. Carefully, you raise your hand to gently caress the left side of her head, burrowing your fingers into her hair. She closes your eyes and releases a sigh through her nose upon feeling you gently massaging her scalp.

Baran knows exactly when she started falling for you after several days of reflection. It was during the late morning after your first time sleeping with each other. She immediately knew that you were going to be trouble for her when she saw you cooking breakfast with only her college sweater on, and when you softly told her that you needed to go, while caressing her head as you are doing so currently. She fell even harder when you came over after she had a rough week, when she was vulnerable, and you stayed right by her side, never pushing, only giving her comfort. 

Despite her contradicting acts and intentionally using your affections for her as a leverage to control you and have you wrapped around her finger, what she feels for you is genuine, even primal in nature. She knows it to be true because she can’t imagine living her future without you, and if you somehow disappear during her lifetime, she’ll dedicate the rest of her living moments to you. Baran has to have you in her short existence in this world; she’ll go through heaven and hell just to have you by her side.

It’s quite easy to tell why Baran needs to have control to stay sane when all her life she’s felt powerless against herself. Only in recent years had she started to feel like she actually has jurisdiction over her life, leading her to do everything in her own terms; from deciding what to pursue for her education, managing activities and inanimate objects, and extending to her interactions with other people. Baran isn’t conscienceless; she isn’t numb emotionally, she knows that the way she’s treating you is wrong, but she can't help it. It makes her feel fulfilled when she sees you bend to her liking. She desires to have control over you, like it’s a cardinal sin she can’t help but commit over and over again. How can she not when you’re so obedient to her? Completely willing to do anything she wants without forcing you to. Baran isn’t blind either; she can see that you want to give her everything you can, including letting her devour you just to satisfy her hunger.

For the first time in what feels like forever, Baran finally looks at you, seeing your brows furrow in mild concern due to her silence. You look gorgeous underneath the dim lighting of her bedroom, the shadows accentuating your features, and your lips look extremely kissable at this moment. She couldn’t restrain herself; she let herself lean into you and claim your lips with hers, moving slowly to savour the taste of your lips and pour her love into the kiss. Heat crawls up into your cheeks; the intimacy of her actions makes you shy. She doesn’t let her hands wander away from your waist, only tightening her hold on you to pull you closer to her.

No words can describe the depth of Baran’s love for you, but she will try her best to express them for you. If that still isn’t enough, she’ll physically and mentally put in the effort to change for you, for her to let go of her need for control. No one on this Earth can stop her from loving you; she’ll even spit in the face of gods if they forbid her to. Baran’s willing to do anything for you, just as you are to her.

Both of you are unaware of it now, but this is the exact moment where things start to change for the better.

There was a wide smile present on your lips when you walked into Trinity’s apartment. You’d been staying there more often in the past year than you have in your own place, as you had practically moved in with your girlfriend, and it was a no-brainer decision because her apartment building is nicer than yours and your neighbours were quite a handful bunch. You had just gotten off the phone with a casting director who brought you good news after months of auditions that resulted in nothing. You had started to doubt yourself when you’d received the call, as you had no hopes for this specific audition, and in a way, you had made an unspoken ultimatum for yourself. Trinity, who was nose-deep in a medical textbook, immediately felt the happiness radiating off of you when you entered the room, and her brows had lifted up in curiosity. Of course, you noticed her expression.

“I got a call back. They want me to fly into LA for a screen test. I think it’s for an indie movie but they’re keeping things secret for some reason. I heard that Anya Taylor-Joy’s the lead for this one.” You trailed off and you didn’t see the way Trinity’s face had fallen.

So, you kept talking. “I should prolly move to LA, don't ya think? I’ve been thinking about it for months but… I dunno, I don’t really want to leave you here in Pittsburgh.” You shrugged because, despite how Trinity would always act unbothered, you knew she doesn’t like being alone.

“Are you seriously thinking of moving to LA?” The tone of her voice surprised you a little. You’d never heard her talk to you like that before.

“Yeah? I mean- the audition’s in LA and there’s more opportunities there. It’s gonna be expensive flying back and forth from Pennsylvania to California just to audition.” Even though you gave yourself an ultimatum in this career path, this project seemed promising to you.

“I thought you quit acting?” You blinked at her.

“No… just because I’m freelancing some programming stuff doesn’t mean I stopped auditioning.”

Trinity sat up straight from her seat at the dining table. “You’re serious about this.” She observed you like you’re a patient that needed diagnosing.

“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

In a split second, her entire figure went from being calm to being infuriated. “God, you’re so childish.” She stood up. You were stunned as you had never seen her act like this before.

“Excuse me?-”

“When will you realise that acting is not for you?” 

It’s the very first time she raised her voice at you. You’ve had fights before, naturally, but she has always kept her composure and reeled in her anger and frustration. 

“You’ve been auditioning for years and all you’ve gotten was minor roles and a victim on that one Law and Order episode!”

“What are you saying? I thought you were okay with this?”

“I was! And now I’m realising that this is all bullshit and a complete waste of time!” She dragged her hand through her hair in frustration. “-and money!”

“You’ll be better off with a real job than having your dreams crushed by a disgusting pervert who just wants to see women get naked on the screen!” You scoffed at Trinity in disbelief.

“Do you really think that low of-” She cut you off harshly, she didn’t allow you to have a say in this fight.

“No. I’m done. I can’t be with someone who can’t let go of their childish dreams.” You stood frozen in front of her as she rounded her way to you.

“Trinity-” She pushed you out of her front door.

"Good luck in LA.” The door slammed in front of you causing you to flinch at the loud noise.

You stood still in front of her door for a whole minute, completely shocked at what just happened. You were so taken aback by everything that you were more confused than devastated as you were just called childish by the person whom you loved the most- the woman whom you thought you’d be spending your entire life with. But it was all so ironic- what had become the reason for her breaking up with you ended up being the big break you needed as an actor. It was the role that had caught the eye of many producers, several directors, and writers as your name had spread like wildfire within the industry, and it was as if they were suddenly bewitched by your acting because you were already getting dragged into other projects when the movie hit its post-production stage.

Now, a few years later, you’re grimacing in pain as you’re sitting down on a gurney after a stupid miscalculation on your part. Your agent is hovering near you while she’s talking to someone- most likely a producer– on her phone; stress is heavily influencing her facial expressions as she releases a sigh after the call has ended.

“It’s fine. I don’t need to go to a hospital, I can just sleep this off.” You wince when you feel the pain radiating from your ribs as you try to convince your agent- as well as the paramedics– that you’re okay but they’re clearly not buying it. You couldn’t act your way out of this one as they loaded the gurney up with you on it in the ambulance.

“Seriously, I’m fine-”

“You’re clearly in pain. You can cry your ass off in command but you can’t control your own face to save your life.” You roll your eyes at your agent, and you open your mouth to speak out your rebuttal, but she holds her hand out as a signal for you to stop and shut up.

“The producers want to be sure that you’re in great shape. They can’t afford another recast for this movie.” Her reasoning makes the complaint die out on your tongue.

“Fine. Just don’t take me to PTMC-”

“Too late, we’re already here.” The paramedics quickly push the doors open as they effortlessly haul the gurney back on the ground.

“Fuck. That was quick.” You comment as you try your best to stand up and ignore the pain in your ribs that knocked the breath out of your lungs.

“No it’s fine, I can walk.” The way you almost fall face first onto the concrete as soon as the words left your mouth is comical and your agent immediately scrambles to catch you.

“Nope. You’re not fucking walking, okay?” Letting out a huff, you lay back down on the gurney against your own wishes.

“I swear to god you need to be wrapped in bubble wrap for the rest of the shoot.”

“Jesus- calm your tits down. I’m okay.” Your agent is the type of person to always overreact. It’s amusing but sometimes it can get irritating to hear.

“Yeah right, I’ll wait for what the doctor says.” The paramedics only share a look with each other as the two of you continue to banter while they wheel you into the ER.

“After this we’ll be back on set, right?”

“You wish. The rest of the shoot day is cancelled and the writers are happy ‘cause the glorious beings from up above wants to change everything in act two because according to them ‘it’s too woke’.” She throws her hands up to make air quotes.

“What’s ‘too woke’ about a heist action movie?” You copy her actions.

She shrugs. “I don’t know. Charlize Theron fighting in a suit instead of a dress?” You roll your eyes in disbelief of the whole scenario, but at least the rewrite will give you enough time to recover from whatever injury you just gained from being an idiot. 

The male paramedic clears his throat as he states your name to start presenting your case, “-27 got hit by a stunt car while filming on a movie set. These two kept fighting on the way here so…” He and a male doctor with greying hair make eye contact while you get wheeled into a trauma room. You hear the doctor call out someone’s name to assist him, but you don’t comprehend him because you’re way too entertained by your agent explaining how they couldn’t cut your clothes off unless it was absolutely necessary to.

“Fuck. I guess it’s my lucky day today.” You hear a familiar voice enter the room, your attention turning to the brunette you haven’t seen in ages. The gnawing feeling of dread befalls you, and you swear you hear your heart rate pick up from the monitor.

“What? You two know each other?” Asks the male doctor who looks back and forth between you and Trinity while your agent connects the dots in her mind. She was about to say something detrimental to your reputation as the tell-tale smirk starts to appear on her lips, and Trinity- thankfully– speaks up first.

“Something like that.” She turns to your agent. “You need to wait outside so we can properly look at her injuries.” Your agent throws you a look that says ‘we’re talking about this later’ before exiting the room with no complaints. The male doctor has his eyebrows raised in amusement, knowing that it’s not needed for Trinity to basically kick her out of the room since you’re not in a critical condition.

She still looks the same since you last saw her, though; you could clearly see the tiredness in her eyes. The only difference from before is a couple of new tattoos littered all over her forearm. The random ink she has all over her arms used to be your favourite thing about her as you would unconsciously trace the lines with your gentle fingertips, and the action would usually lull you both to sleep.

“Glad to see that you’re a doctor now.” Trinity looks at your face briefly before focusing back on evaluating the severity of your injuries.

“And you made it in Hollywood.” She states while examining the bruises that formed on your ribs and you wince when she touches the skin lightly.

“If you think so.” She steals a glance at your face. You were already attractive when you were dating to the extent that it was annoying to go out with you at night because of how often you would get hit on by unsuspecting men who thought they could bag a woman like you, and it would always drive Trinity insane. But now, you look even better, and Trinity felt like she just got kicked in the belly as everything came back running to her. She shouldn’t have been impatient; if she weren’t, the chances that the two of you are still together could be phenomenal. 

Trinity could still remember everything about you: how you would always bite your lip while you’re deep in thought, how you drastically change while in character, how the tone and cadence of your laugh differ in certain situations- she could go on and on for hours if she’d let herself. Now, all she can do is wallow in her regret and wish she could take back her bad choices while watching you command a scene in a movie.

She exhaustedly drops her body down onto a chair before she starts up your chart while waiting for you to get back down from having your scans done. Her sigh catches the attention of Dennis, who is also busy finishing up some charts so that he can finally end his shift. He eyes her sideways at first, observing her, before sidling up next to her.

“What’s wrong? You look like you’re talking to Garcia again.”

Once again, Trinity sighs. “I wish. That’d be easier to deal with right now.” He tilts his head and gives her an expectant look.

“My ex is here and she’s my patient.”

“Which one?” He proceeds to look around, seeing if he could spot the woman that has Trinity wishing she could fast forward time so she could avoid you. A gurney then passes by the workstation and parks in a closed-off room.

“Her.” Trinity points her thumb at you while Dennis and a few nurses who saw you, did a double take, wondering if what they saw was real or if their eyes are just deceiving them.

“Is that-” She cuts him off.

“Yes.” You’re placed in the quieter side of the ED because if people were to realise that there’s a celebrity amongst them, chaos would ensue.

“Your ex is-” His voice grows loud, completely surprised by the casual revelation of his roommate.

“Keep it down.” Trinity hisses and Dennis goes back to whispering. “You’re kidding.” The pointed look that she bears tells him otherwise.

“How did-”

“A college party and I broke up with her.” She already anticipated what Dennis was going to ask, it’s obvious and she didn’t need to look away from the monitor to tell him that.

“What? Why?” Trinity keeps on typing, surprising herself that she could multitask during an unpleasant conversation.

“It’s stupid.” She tries to brush it off but Huckleberry stays unmoving and continues to stare at her. “Okay. Fine.” She stops typing and faces him.

“I thought she was wasting her time with acting when she could be doing other things.” Trinity almost flinches at her own words, embarrassed by her past actions as she sounds like a trad man wanting his wife to stay at home and cook meals for him.

“And now she’s-”

“I know. You don’t need to remind me.” She swivels her chair back to face the monitor.

“You’re exes with an actress?” Princess suddenly appears in between them as if she’s summoned whenever there’s gossip brewing in the pitt; to be fair, they weren’t secretive enough with their conversation, as she heard half of their conversation a couple metres away. Huckleberry jumps, startled by her presence. 

“Yep.” Trinity answers with a flat tone. “Can we not talk about this anymore?”

“It’s a… sore spot for her.” Dennis explains and the nurse raises her brow up as a signal for him to continue.

“She broke up with her before she had her big break.” Trinity mentally thanks him for simplifying the breakup to prevent her from getting further embarrassment.

The nurse makes a pained expression while hissing. “That sucks. That’s your loss. You could’ve been a power couple, an actress and a doctor.”

“Clearly.” Her words come out as bitter and she barely manages to look unbothered by her current predicament as she stares at your chart in front of her.

“Are you going to talk to her?”

“Why? I’m pretty sure she doesn’t want anything to do with me after being an asshole to her.” Trinity breaks her stare from the monitor and looks at the nurse instead.

“You won't know it if you don't try.” Princess gives her a look filled with hope and reassurance. “And, you’re clearly not over her.” She sighs at the nurse’s added comment.

“Whatever.” She stands up after Princess hands her the tablet with your scans on it and she starts heading to your room.

“Don’t do anything that I wouldn’t do.” Dennis says with a smirk on his lips, and Trinity raises her empty hand up to flip him off while walking away.

Trinity can’t help but think whether or not she should try talking to you, just like what Princess said- it wouldn’t hurt, but she doesn’t know if she can handle that kind of conversation today. She doesn’t even know if you’re in a relationship with someone new since you’ve kept your private life out of the public eye; it’d be awkward if this is how she finds out that you’re with another celebrity since there have been rumours surrounding you and a past castmate in your latest film, and everyone seems to be convinced that you two are together- except for Trinity, of course. Regardless, you’re now out of Trinity’s reach, and all she can rely on is your past together if she does manage to pull up her big girl pants and actually talk to you.

All the while Trinity is trying to muster the courage to talk to you and go through all of your results and scans, you and your agent are busy bickering about the movie. For a short while, you forget that your ex-lover is your doctor as you worry about what’s going on with the movie amongst other things. You watch as your agent runs her hand through her hair for the millionth time today after once again getting off her phone.

“So what, shoot’s cancelled for three weeks?” You’ve managed to hear most of her conversation with the director, and she nods at you while reading through several texts- no doubt they’re all about your unfortunate accident.

“Mhm. Thanks to you.”

You huff. “Stop acting like they’re not rewriting the whole movie on short notice.” Her lips drop to a frown upon seeing a certain text, her thumbs moving quickly to send a reply.

“It’s kinda your fault too.” She sends the message and gets to typing another one right away.

“I’m barely in it. They could do all the scenes with Charlize first.”

“She has another project. Her team says she can’t go on set until next month.” She finally finishes replying to the urgent messages she’s seen so far.

She blinks, suddenly remembering the first sentence you’ve said. “And you’re barely in it? You’re the lead in this fucking movie, what the hell are you talking about?” You shrug, and just like a miracle dropping down from heaven- preventing you from becoming deaf due to your agent’s relentless scolding- Trinity enters the room.

“I have your results.” She announces and your agent takes a deep breath to compose herself before fully turning her attention to the doctor.

Trinity addresses you. “You have a few hairline fractures on your ribs and some bruises and scratches, but other than that, everything’s all good.” 

“Can she go home now?” Your agent asks and Trinity nods at her. “Yes. Rib fractures heal on its own for around two to six weeks.” She turns her focus back to you. “You need rest and you should put ice on it- especially for the bruising, they will get ugly. Just take it easy, no heavy lifting, and no stunts.” You almost groan at the no stunts part because you prefer to do it all yourself as much as you can.

“Yeah, her personal doctor would approve of that.” You elbow your agent’s side and while she’s in the middle of telling her joke, her phone starts to ring for the nth time.

“I’m sorry. I have to take this.” She takes off while apologising, making you think that one of the producers had called her.

The silence settles in for a couple of seconds before Trinity speaks. “A nurse will give you the discharge papers.” She purses her lips and gives you a small smile before turning around. She stays standing still for three seconds, her hand already on the doorknob, contemplating if she should put in the prescription for your medicine here at the room’s own workstation or not. Eventually, she decides against leaving the room.

She turns around to face you. “I just… didn’t expect to see you again.”

“Me neither.” You look at her, seeing the dark bags under her eyes and her hair a little bit messy from moving around all day.

“How are you? Be honest ‘cause you look like shit.” Trinity chuckles at your word choice as she steps closer to the workstation in the corner of the room.

“I’m good.” She taps her ID to the scanner. “This place has the tendency to suck the life out of you.” 

Her forehead wrinkles in confusion as she reads your current address. “It says here you’re still living here in Pittsburgh. Didn’t you move to LA?”

“I moved back here a year and a half ago.” Trinity seems to pause for a second, her fingers stalling above the keyboard before she goes back to typing like nothing had happened and logs off once she finishes.

She turns back around to face you. “Is acting everything you imagined it to be?”

“It’s different but it’s still what I expected. If you’re not surrounded by good people, you can end up selling your soul to the devil- literally and figuratively.” You can tell that she’s nervous: she’s fidgeting with her fingers and she’s leaning her body weight onto one leg and shifting it every 30 seconds.

Trinity takes a deep inhale, knowing that it’s now or never since you’re only going to be much harder to come by next time.

“I’m sorry… for the way I talked to you when I… broke up with you.” She manages to make eye contact with you. You unconsciously take a deep breath, the sharp pain on your ribs now reduced to a dull hum all thanks to the painkillers they gave you.

“It’s just… I still haven’t forgiven myself for that and I…” Trinity scoffs at herself, feeling foolish that she’s doing this but still goes for it.

“I’d be lying to myself if I said that I didn’t miss you.”

A surge of irritations rushes through your veins, making you clench your jaw before relaxing. 

“Do you really miss me or do you just want me back because I’ve made a name for myself?” Trinity freezes like a deer caught in headlights.

All of the instances in the months up until the day she broke up with you came back flooding: she used to proudly introduce you to the new people she had met until you were just hanging around her in the background; she used to be so proud of you every time you booked something, and then the excitement turned into an eye roll and annoyance. The only time she treated you nicely was when the two of you were alone, where there was no one else around that could recognise either of you. It made you think that she much preferred that you stayed working at home as she knew that there’s someone waiting for her in her apartment and she didn’t need to worry about cooking something since you always cooked for her. You knew that there was something going on as she changed, but you couldn’t let yourself see it for what it truly was because you loved her.

“I wasn’t blind, Trinity. You were ashamed of me, you treated me like I was nobody whenever you’re with your friends… you could’ve said this years ago- you could’ve reached out to me, and now… what? You care now that everyone knows me?”

“What? No. I love you. I didn’t reach out to you ‘cause I thought you were busy- you obviously were– and how could I when I called you childish? I was an asshole.” Despite her frustration, Trinity didn’t raise her voice at you. Not a single octave.

“Exactly. You said that acting was childish- why would I even get back together with you when you didn’t take me seriously?” Trinity’s shoulders visibly slump down as she lets go of the sudden wave of anger she felt and takes a step closer to your bed.

“Come on. I’m sorry.” Her voice softens. “I really didn’t mean to say that- I was stressed and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” It took a lot for you to keep your eyes from rolling, a little bit surprised by her audacity but you should’ve expected this from her.

“Whatever. You’re too late. What’s done is done, there’s nothing we can do. It’s all in the past now.” Trinity wants to be closer to you, to hold your hand and keep apologising for everything she has done but she stops herself when she sees the stone cold gaze in your eyes.

“Can you forgive me? I-”

The door suddenly swings open.

“Eshgham? What happened?” Baran rushes in, panicking as she immediately goes to your side. She doesn’t even notice Trinity standing on the other side in her hurry to feel your warmth with her fingertips. Her hand gently wraps around your wrist, subtly feeling for your pulse.

“I saw your agent outside and she told me you got in an accident on set.” Your heart breaks at the worry her tone carries. She lets her eyes wander around your body to check for any external injuries and Trinity could only stand there, effectively stunned as she put the puzzle pieces together. Her heart drops to her stomach. Oh.

The ‘personal doctor’ comment your agent made, your Pittsburgh address, and your own words: ‘you’re too late’. 

Fuck. 

It was indeed foolish to think that you’re still single after you’ve experienced so many things these past few years. At least it isn’t that one actor Trinity hates, but Dr. Baran Al-Hashimi? Her own attending? She’s truly and utterly fucked. 

Trinity clears her throat to make her presence known to her attending as she still doesn’t seem to notice her lingering near the two of you. 

“She has a few hairline fractures on her ribs.” She repeats what she has said earlier.

“Dr. Santos.” Baran finally addresses her. “What labs did you order?” You tuned out Trinity’s words as you barely know anything about them, focusing on how tight Baran is holding your hand and the worry that is evident in her dark irises despite the composed face she’s keeping on.

You had met Baran two years ago in California, where there was a medical conference at the hotel you were staying at for a nearby premiere. You were still a relatively new name in the industry, but for some reason, Baran knew who you were when you stopped by the bar. She didn’t think she had a chance with you since you were younger and a bit famous, and Baran almost didn’t shoot her shot, but when you turned your head and made eye contact with her from across the bar, she knew that she was a goner and that she needed to talk to you. And the rest is history.

She nods at Trinity when she finishes speaking. Baran then leans down to press a lingering kiss on your forehead as Trinity bitterly watches from the side.

“What happened?” She asks, her soft gaze tracing the outlines of your features as if she’s memorising each tiny detail on your face. Your hand goes up to cup her jaw before easing away the creases on her forehead with your thumb. 

“I was supposed to avoid the car but I lost my footing when I landed.” You couldn’t look her in the eyes out of embarrassment, opting to stare at the curtains instead.

“Were you wearing any safety gear?” You nod.

“I was. I’m just a little bruised. I think it hurt my pride more when it happened.” Baran lets out a breathy giggle and you give yourself a mental pat in your back for making her worry disappear even if it’s just for a fleeting second.

The attending lifts your hand up to her lips. “I’m sorry it took me long to get here. I was going through patients so I could get home early.” She was planning to surprise you and her son with a hearty dinner tonight. Her cooking is now going to be non-negotiable for later since you need to rest as per doctor’s orders. Your ex sees how your irises soften with a certain warmth behind them; you used to look at her like that, and now somebody else is on the other side of your affection.

She once again awkwardly clears her throat and hands Baran the tablet. “Here. You can double check the results yourself. I’ll get the discharge papers.” By the time you look over at the door, Trinity is already gone and you feel your body instantly relax under Baran’s touch.

“What happened? I heard you two arguing outside.” Baran knew of your past with Trinity because you can’t keep anything from her- even for the things you’ve signed an NDA for. That’s why she couldn’t help but be harsh to the R2 when she first worked with her.

“I’ll tell you everything when we get home, okay?” It’s now your turn to place a lingering kiss on the top of her forehead and she easily melts into your touch.

“Please be careful? I don't want to see you here as a patient ever again.” It amazes you every time you see her eyes become so expressive; it makes your whole being buzz with warmth and adoration when she looks at you like you’re everything she’s wanted in life. You slowly drag your fingers through her hair, pushing back the curls that had escaped her hair clip before cupping her jaw with both of your hands. She places hers above yours, running her thumbs over your knuckles. 

“I promise.”

Her dark irises flits left and right before drifting down to your nose and finally to your lips where her gaze lingers for longer. A blink, and her lips are on yours, feather-like at first as she tests the waters before letting the distance close fully. You can feel her affection, love, and worry all at once as she deepens the kiss, making your breath hitch in surprise. Your right hand wanders down to the nape of her neck, your fingers instinctively playing with her hair.

“Just fill this out and-” You and Baran take your time to separate from each other before looking at who just entered the room. It’s Princess. You could feel her internally groan knowing that she’s the number one supplier of gossip in the whole ED and that this little incident would immediately spread once the nurse goes back to the station.

Princess only looks at the two of you with a smirk plastered on her face before handing Baran the discharge papers. She gives the attending a quick wink before leaving the room. You let out a small giggle, causing Baran to do so as well.

Outside, the nurse struts towards the central hub as if she’s suddenly reinvigorated- which she basically did from you two– and Dana looks her up and down before deciding to not say anything. Princess’ smile becomes even wider when she spots Dennis and Trinity typing away at their workstations. The two notice her immediately as her shadow falls over them. Upon seeing the downcast look of annoyance, embarrassment, and dread written all over Trinity’s face, the nurse knew immediately that she witnessed something she never wants to see ever again.

Surprisingly, you’d managed to stammer out the emergency when you dialled 911 as soon as you physically could as did some bystanders who lingered around in an attempt to help without overstepping and making things even more complicated. You stepped back to assess everything: the hood and side of the black sedan are completely wrecked with glass scattered everywhere as he crashed into the next door’s storefront, the driver is unconscious inside with the air bags deployed and you could see the blood running down his face. He must’ve swerved to avoid crashing the driver’s side into the building as an attempt to save himself but hit your friend in turn. This seems like an ironic way of the world showing the saying ‘a life for a life’ to remind you that life is both delicate and expendable in this boundless universe; anything can happen to anyone if they’re unfortunately situated at the right place in the wrong time.

That’s how you ended up in PTMC’s ER, standing helplessly right outside trauma one, watching the doctors do their own thing: someone in grey scrubs is using a red telephone at the side while the man in black scrubs whose hair is greying and has a stubble- but still looks handsome– takes the lead all the while you’re still clutching her hoodie in your hands, seeking comfort. Just in the next room at trauma two is the driver who was apparently drunk while driving and you can’t even manage to be mad at him right now because you’re still worried sick about your friend who’s currently getting a tube shoved down her throat to help her breathe.

“Is there somebody else we can call? Any loved ones? Family?” a red-haired nurse approaches you and places a supportive hand on your shoulder.

“...uh… I already called her parents. They’re on a vacation in Quebec.” your gaze is still fixed inside the room.

“She’s a family friend ever since we were little, we basically grew up together. …we moved here around a year and a half ago ‘cause of our jobs and she just moved to her new place closer to her work.” there’s something comforting about confiding to a stranger after experiencing a traumatic event; there’s no judgement, only sympathy.

Being focused on how they’re quickly working around your friend, you didn’t notice someone wearing a dark plum coloured scrubs enter the trauma room until she was already gloved up, hands hovering over where there’s a lot of blood and you could hear her argue with the handsome doctor from outside the room. After a minute passes, they start to wheel her out of the room and the grey-haired doctor makes his way over to you.

“She’s stable. We’ve managed to control the bleeding caused by the ruptured spleen in her abdomen and the one inside her chest that was punctured by one of her broken ribs. She’s on her way to get a CT and after that she’ll go straight to the OR.” his name reads Jack Abbot on his ID; the low, comforting tone of his voice manages to give you some form of reassurance as you watch the rest roll up the gurney towards the direction of the elevator.

You give him a sincere look, “thank you.”

“No worries.” once he exits your field of view, you see the woman in the dark plum scrubs talking to another woman with her back turned towards you. Your nerves suddenly shoot up through the roof when the one in the dark navy scrubs suddenly makes eye contact with you, causing you to shyly look away and start the walk towards the direction of where you last saw the gurney go. Unfortunately, your pace isn’t quick enough because the dark navy scrubs lady has caught up to you.

“Are you the friend of Sam Everett?”

You awkwardly halt your steps, “yes.” the two of you resume walking after you say your name.

“Dr. Garcia will be operating on your friend, I’ll be assisting her.” she starts, “is there anyone I could call so that you’re not alone? I know how hard it can be doing all of this by yourself.” her voice softens as she is reminded by her own past experience.

You shake your head no, “I’ll be okay.” when the two of you pass by a workstation, her name gets called.

“Surgery is on the fourth floor.” she informs you with a kind smile before she jogs off and greets a curly-haired woman who looks like she just got off her shift and you can hear her ask the lady from surgery when she would clock out because she can wait for her; the conversation doesn’t sound professional as it feels personal, but no one else seems to notice them except for you.

Just when the elevator doors are about to close, a pale hand shoots out and stops it from closing fully. An all too familiar face appears on the other side.

It’s Emery.

You had met her during one of your shifts at the bookstore as your part-time job a few months back; she’d taken an immediate liking to you when you had given her a shy smile because you thought that she was attractive and apparently, she thought you were too, since she asked you out for a date the next day- of course, you said yes. It only took you about a month to fall in love with her which scared you; you didn’t exactly have the best experience with your past relationship and every time you thought about getting into another one, it terrified you. Then Emery came strolling into your life and she took your fears and flushed them down the toilet like it was no big deal. She knows exactly what to do and what to say all the time and it was extremely hard not to fall in love with her.

The two of you are currently figuring out how to navigate your busy schedules as you two had just recently made things official: you work the whole day but from home most of the time and Emery is a surgeon, which naturally demands a lot of time from her, but what you didn’t know is that she works at PTMC- a detail that she has never brought up to you because she doesn’t like talking about work as she wants to keep you separate from it; she doesn’t want to see the glint of happiness and innocence in your eyes slowly fade away when she tells you the horrors she has seen from her job, nor does she want you to worry more about her when you’re already fully aware of how mentally and physically draining being a healthcare professional is.

You could only imagine how nervous and shocked she felt when she saw you standing in the elevator, looking distraught with your hair dishevelled and a hoodie that she’d never seen before is clutched tightly in your hands: Emery’s worry spikes and her eyes widen; a millisecond passes and she’s already cupping your jaw, checking for any signs that you’re hurt.

“Are you okay?” her voice trembles slightly. She knows your friend, obviously, as the two of you were usually a package deal- but only in saying– she hasn’t met Sam before and her name is common enough for Emery not to think that that woman on the gurney is your friend.

“Yeah I- I’m okay. Just… shocked, I mean- I just grabbed her hoodie then when I got back out she’s just-” you choke and you can feel the tears burning in your eyes; Emery runs the pads of her thumbs back and forth on your cheekbones before cradling your head and placing you against her chest.

Lub- dub

Lub- dub

Lub- dub

The sounds of her heartbeat calm you down as you try to mimic her breathing; you release a sigh as you melt further into her, feeling the warmth of her body radiating off of her as her presence engulfs you in a blanket of comfort and security, effectively getting rid of the primal flight or fight response that’s still lingering in your nerves. Your soft little moment is cut short by the dinging sound of the elevator, indicating your arrival at the fourth floor. Emery never leaves your side, opting to sit down next to you and hold you in her arms instead of leaving for a couple of minutes so she could clock out; she knows that you need her company now more than ever and she doesn’t have it in her to let you go despite knowing that her colleagues can see her act in a way that they have never seen before- whispering comforting words into your ears as she hugs you like you’re a delicate little flower. She nuzzles her nose into the crown of your head, placing a lingering kiss while she holds you tighter against her chest, reminding herself of your heart that’s beating normally as she discreetly brushes her fingers against your temporal pulse as she also reassures herself that you managed to avoid getting a single scratch on you, a physical evidence showing that fate is on your side.

You couldn’t help but laugh because you had caught the flowers during the bouquet toss and it’s a little bit absurd since the diamond ring on your finger shone brightly underneath the warm lights of the wedding reception’s venue. Emery had proposed to you a week ago during her birthday and needless to say, you were utterly flabbergasted as you had no suspicions that she was up to something. Emery refrained from admitting it, but she only bought the ring that same day with Baran and she ended up using her ‘I’m a surgeon’ card so she could get the beautiful ring with no further questions from the jeweller who was side-eyeing her. 

But you never really expected for her to actually propose to you, as the concept of marriage was rarely brought up in conversation between the two of you; you never thought of yourself as wife material either. Rather, you thought the opposite; you felt that you were quite annoying and a little bit paranoid, all thanks to your douchebag of an ex and it’s a bit hard to let go of the habit of always updating your partner about your whereabouts, what you’re currently doing, and who you’re with because they easily got upset when you didn’t tell them everything that you did. But Emery didn’t really care about all of those; she’s already content and happy with having you by her side. She just wants you.

When the night had become deeper, the newlyweds became separated for the first time in hours as Al-Hashimi carried her son to her grandparents for them to take him home after saying goodbye to Salazar with a kiss on the cheek and now, the latter can be seen heading her way towards you.

“So, when’s the wedding?” her voice is laced with playfulness but you know that she’s been dying to ask you this question.

“Spring next year. You know, I still can’t believe she proposed.”

“Me either. This wedding feels like a dream.” she admits while you two are watching your partners interact with each other on the other side of the venue.

“Where are you going for the honeymoon?” both of you can hear Soheil’s laughter as Emery lifts him up and down per his request before he finally walks with his grandparents, this interaction brings a smile to your faces.

“Philippines. Baran’s excited to finally meet my family in person. I don’t know how to tell her but our family has a tradition of interrogating the people we date disguised as a casual family dinner.”

You chuckle, “mine too. They were actually very impressed by Emery. My parents were so happy when we announced that we’re engaged.” who wouldn’t be impressed by Emery Walsh anyways? When she had mentioned that she was in the Health Professions Scholarship Program in order to become a surgeon, your father had almost begged the two of you to get married already on the spot.

It didn’t take long for both women to see that their respective fiancee and wife are conversing with each other while watching them so they decided to whisk the two of you in a slow dance when the dj played Kiss of Life by Sade.

“Hey. You saved your last dance for me?” Emery saunters up to you, hands immediately finding the dips of your waist as yours slide up the lapels of her blazer as you straighten them out from being crooked.

“Of course.” her gaze is soft just like her touch on your waist, the corners of her lips are slightly lifted up as her full attention is on you while gently guiding your body to sway with the song.

“How’s my fiancee doing? I hope my PA didn’t say something that could potentially ruin my reputation for you.” you giggle as you lightly hit her chest, her smile becomes even bigger.

“We were talking about their honeymoon.”

Her brows rise up in interest, “oh.” you take a step to get closer to her.

“I was thinking… we should go somewhere with great beaches.” Emery hums in approval with your thought.

Emery doesn’t really mind wherever the two of you end up going on your honeymoon; hell, the two of you could spend it at a shitty resort and she’d still be elated; she always is when you’re around. She doesn’t ask for much: cuddling after her shifts is already more than enough for her and she feels like she’s the luckiest woman in the whole world every time you kiss her on the lips. The act of marriage barely represents the amount of love she has for you; if she were to fully express it, her heart would explode in the sheer volume of it. Others would say that she’s harsh and arrogant, but her skills and intelligence would always prove it otherwise as they mistake her confidence for arrogance– they have never seen her with you. The way her shoulders would always slump in relaxation after she pushes her face deep into the crevice of your neck after getting home from work, how she would always reach out for your warmth when the air becomes slightly chilly, how she would always notice even the slightest discomfort you feel when things start to become too overstimulating, and the way she would always let her guard down around you so she could let you in. Up till this day, Emery still doesn’t know what she did to deserve a woman as loving and caring as you and she will never take you for granted. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to her and she would gladly be selfish to anything that remotely involves you. Now she understands why she was a coward when it came to Salazar years ago; it’s because she was always meant for you; fate had just taken her sweet time before letting the two of you meet.

It irritated you because you could see the appeal that Yolanda Garcia has and you were no better than the girl in front of her. The only difference was that you’re watching her from across the garden and ogled at her respectfully; she had her hair up in a loose bun and the stray curls framed her face perfectly, her shirt had a few buttons undone tastefully that gave you a sneak peek of her smooth chest, and her hands… the way her fingers were splayed across the beer bottle she’s nursing… your friend had told you that Yolanda’s a surgeon at PTMC when you had asked her who’d be at the garden party on the fourth. With that fact in mind, you’re certain that she’s incredibly skilled with those hands of hers.

Like an annoying mosquito buzzing near your ear, your friend suddenly appeared right next to you and unfortunately, she saw how you were practically drooling while you stared at Yolanda. You don’t know whether or not to thank her as she started to drag you towards the handsome woman because she knows that you don’t do flings nor situationships, but at least you’d get to know your eye candy.

“What are you doing? She’s literally talking to another girl.” you complained.

“So?” you rolled your eyes at her as if she could see your protest.

Even though you were still a good few metres away from them, Yolanda quickly looked away from the girl and her gaze immediately landed on your figure that’s getting dragged towards her like a kitten who had strayed away from the rest of the litter.

You’d caught her attention.

“Here’s a face I haven’t seen before.” She exclaimed while she looked up and down at your figure and darted her tongue out to quickly wet her lips.

That’s the exact moment that Yolanda Garcia decided that she has to have you.

Throughout the whole night, Yolanda never left your side except for when she volunteered to grab the two of you more drinks; it pissed the girl in the cropped top off because she was so sure that she’d secured the surgeon for the night until you came along and ruined her plans, so she dramatically stomped away while you and Yolanda were in the middle of a boring discussion that was only interesting to the two of you.

Her arm was placed over your shoulders as you two sat side by side on a bench on the quieter side of the garden; the conversation still flowed as you people watched and occasionally looked up to see some stars in the night sky. All of the sudden, you felt her hand drift lower to your upper arm, caressing it casually as she spoke before it drifted down to your waist. You already knew what Yolanda was after when she had given you her full attention, but you had your own ‘reputation’ to uphold: you disliked the concept of flings- of having sex with people you barely knew just because you wanted to. It isn’t about insecurity nor about being a virgin- which you aren’t– it’s about the vulnerability you only want your special person to see; it’s the sign of trust and the show of love you have for that person. Yolanda didn’t know that; only your friend does as well as your previous partners.

The only thing that Yolanda got that night from you was your number despite giving it her best to get into your pants. Though you admit you almost gave in, it was hard to resist her sultry voice and stare that made you look like you’re the most beautiful woman in the whole world for her. It was also that night you learnt that Yolanda likes challenges; either her pride didn’t take well that you were the only one to withstand her charms or she simply enjoys the challenge: the thrill that effort gives her when she works hard for something, making the payoff more rewarding than it being only handed over to her. You weren’t aware of it yet, but this was her first attempt at trying to woo you.

Her second attempt came a day later on a Monday night: after you had gotten home from work, she’d sent you a complete dinner that consisted of your favourite foods, having asked your friend for what you liked, as well as a single stem of rose. She clearly did her research and it brought a smile to your face, and you texted her your thanks along with a photo of the meal. Who knew that the Yolanda Garcia could actually be sweet when she truly wanted to? Though you were a little suspicious, you aren’t sure whether or not she’s doing this to be able to bed you or because she’s genuinely interested in you. Unfortunately for Yolanda, you’re not the type to be easily swept away by simple gestures.

Yolanda thought that this might work; after all, it always worked for her before. So, imagine her surprise when you only thanked her and nothing else. ‘That’s it?’ she thought. At first, she was entirely amused with your gall until her mind drifted off to what else she could do to impress you; she’s slowly starting to get more interested in you the longer she’s known you, other women would’ve already given in to her endeavors, but not you. Perhaps you’re special and it made her curiosity bloom. That’s why when she called you a few days later, she decided to impress you with her work: she went into a tangent about the surgeries that she did and even explained how to perform a hilar flip in complete detail when she recalled how her shift went during the national holiday. She didn’t mean to ramble to you about surgical things, but your presence had given her the feeling of comfort and warmth that made her feel that she was worth listening to and you were- intently too– because you were smiling the whole time while you listened to her talk and you could swear that it made you feel the giddiness that’s commonly associated with starting to like someone in a romantic way.

It made Yolanda rethink everything when your friend told her that you don’t do sex unless you are in a committed relationship with that person because she doesn’t do commitment; it was one of the things she avoided because she knew that feeling things made everything complicated and her job took up most of her time that it made maintaining a relationship difficult. It also made her think, why did you always cross her mind? Every time she hears about something that you and she have conversed about before, she remembers you and the way you had said it, and the first time she heard you laugh it was like music to her ears and it became her goal to make you laugh daily even if it was only through messages. It took Yolanda a day to realise that she was harbouring feelings for you when she noticed that she cared too much about you and all the things you’ve said to her, then her mind started to wonder if you felt the same thing for her. Maybe you only saw her as a friend and that’s the reason why you haven’t had sex with her yet, but that would contradict what your friend had said to her before. All of this made her overthink and it’s so unlike her because Yolanda Garcia is always sure about everything since overthinking meant that she’s bound to make mistakes in the OR, she had to be sure or else it would end poorly.

Before she clocked in for her shift, she had prayed to whatever deity that’s out there to give her a sign to see if she should make another attempt to pursue you and to also confess her feelings for you; specifically, a case where a man falls off a tree while trying to retrieve his cat that climbed up said tree because it got scared when a dog walked past them. The sign she asked for was so specific that it actually made her freeze in shock when she got the call for a surgical consult downstairs.

Now, Yolanda has to think of a way on how to approach you before her shift ends.

The sun is just about to set when you step out of your workplace. You have your head down to look at your phone and you’re just about to call for an uber when you spot a familiar figure leaning on a car with flowers in her hand; Yolanda is still in her deep purple scrubs with her hair tightly tied up in a bun since she got a little later off work and she didn’t have any time to quickly drive home to change if she wanted so surprise you after work, she looked nervous as she waited for you outside, but once she saw you, her nerves dissipated away slightly. She approaches you with long, confident strides as you stand still, a little stunned by her sudden show of affection. If she’s still only trying to get in your pants with all this consistent effort, then she’s a determined woman who will go through great lengths just to get laid.

“Hey.” she greets and you echo it.

She hands you the bouquet and upon a closer look, the flowers are white lilies and the whole arrangement is almost as big as your torso and there’s a small card tucked neatly in the middle of it all. “I uh, wrote that note for you to read when you’re home.” Yolanda herself is slightly taken aback by how awkward she sounds as she rubs her hand on the back of her neck; you can’t help but notice the way her biceps flexed as she did so, causing you to wonder if she’s secretly ripped underneath her loose-fitting scrubs.

“Thank you.” you say with a genuine lilt and there’s this adorable glint in your eyes that made the surgeon’s heart feel full. “You’re very sweet.” she freezes when you abruptly step closer to wrap your arm around her neck to give her the warmest hug she’s ever felt. The heat crawls up from her neck and to her ears- ‘cute’-- you think, and she clears her throat to steer your attention away from her flushed cheeks; she stares off over your shoulder for a couple of seconds as she feels her heart thump loudly against her chest. Yolanda’s always confident so, when you saw her falter, it made your chest jump as you brace yourself, kind of already knowing what she’s about to say.

“I don’t know how to say this but- I like you… and I really do. At first I honestly just wanted to sleep with you and I took it as a challenge when you turned me down, but when I got to know you better… I thought that…. What if you’re the one for me…..” you blink at her while you’re processing her words as your chest feels like it’s beating a hundred times per minute.

When you see her face turn into a look filled with horror and hurt, you immediately speak up, “I like you too.” and Yolanda releases a breath of relief and she’s unable to hide her growing smile.

“I’ll take you out on a date around this time tomorrow.” the Yolanda that you know is now back and her confidence is beaming even brighter than before.

“Sure.” you smile back at her, still in disbelief that the surgeon who’s allergic to relationships is going to take you out on a date.

A few months into your relationship with Yolanda, the surgical floor almost blew up when they had learnt that she’s in a committed relationship; even more so when they find out that you always make her lunch to ensure that she’s eating properly, especially during tiring, hectic shifts that seem to just never end. They found that out when one: Yolanda’s suddenly started bringing lunches to work and two: the one time that you brought her lunch personally when she was working one weekend and needless to say, she got swarmed with a tonne of questions once you left the hospital. But that didn’t apply to the people down at the ED because they didn’t know anything about it even after a year had passed since the gossip had only miraculously spread on the fourth floor; that is, until now.

Yolanda lingered down at the pitt for a little longer since she came down here with Dr. Miller and he’s currently talking to one of the x-ray techs about the radiograph of an earlier patient and while she’s leaning against the nurse’s station with her attending only a few steps away, her phone receives a message from you saying that you’re currently taking the elevator up to the surgical centre with more food than usual so her fellow surgeons could have something to eat as well. It seems that Miller picked up on how Yolanda’s face instantly lit up when she received a message from you.

“Is she here?” He asks her as soon as his discussion with the tech is finished. Yolanda nods, “Yeah, she brought some lunch for all of us.”

“Who’s bringing in free lunch?” Dr. Langdon suddenly appeared in front of the surgeons and his voice was a bit loud as it caught the ears of the nurses as well as Dr. Santos who’s secretly eavesdropping from the workstation while keeping up with her charting.

“My girlfriend.” Yolanda proudly announces with a bright smile across her face and everyone near her vicinity immediately perks up.

“You have a girlfriend?” both Princess and Langdon reacts at the same time with partially the same shocked expressions and Yolanda’s smug attitude never fades while Miller only shakes his head in joking disapproval, knowing that this will be the only thing that the pitt is going to talk about just like it did upstairs a year ago and he tries to hide his amused smile. 

“Yep. Let’s go. I need to taste my future wife’s cooking before chaos arrives.”

The skies are already dark by the time Yolanda gets home and she’s once again hit by the delicious scent of your cooking; you’d immediately assumed the role of the cook very early on in your relationship because all Yolanda could make was eggs and instant ramen, which unfortunately, was her go to meal before you showed up in the picture. A soft grin forms on your lips when you feel her arms wrap around your body after she has taken a shower and you can smell her lavender shampoo wafting in the air behind you. She hums in contentment while she nuzzles her face further into the side of your neck.

“The ED finally knows that I have a girlfriend.” she whispers, her breath tickles you and her statement makes you giggle.

“It only took them a year to find out.”

Once you’ve finished plating the food, Yolanda spins you around to face her; there’s this visible tiredness in her eyes, but they still carry the soft look of adoration and reverence she has for you while staring back at yours and it makes you feel like you’re falling in love with her all over again.

“What’s up?” you ask her as she stays silent, carefully memorising your features for her to recall during a gruelling shift that calls for her patience. You’re her buoy in the vast, endless ocean, acting as her guiding light and her symbol for home because you have never failed to ground her even after the most traumatic shifts she’s experienced.

“Nothing.” she loosens her grip on your waist after placing a quick kiss on your lips; this enables you to step aside and put on one of your favourite vinyls onto the record player, a gift that Yolanda gave you on your birthday.

Before you could reach the dining room where Yolanda has already placed the plates on the table, she stops you and guides your arms up to wrap around the back of her neck as she settles hers down on your waist with her thumbs slowly caressing your lower ribs, gently swaying you to the slow, calming music you’ve put on. Your lips slightly curve upwards at her sudden attempt at slow dancing and you tilt your head back to look at her dark irises.

“I love you.” Yolanda mutters, looking back at you with the same affection yours has.

Yolanda is forever grateful to you for making her take her time when she’s used to rushing everything in her life; she’s never even entertained the thought of being in a relationship before, let alone the prospect of marriage. The old Yolanda would’ve scoffed at her face when she went out to look for an engagement ring that you deserve; she could always feel the weight of the ring inside her pocket since she’s been carrying it around for a week already, waiting for the perfect moment to propose to you with the patience she’s learnt from you. She’s let herself be able to be vulnerable in front of you, something she has a hard time of doing because of bad relationship experiences in the past and it scares her that you mean so much to her that you’ll be able to break her heart in several pieces- but that is one of the the awful things you will never be capable of doing to her. Regardless, her love for you will always prevail despite all of the ups and downs you’ve faced and will encounter.

With How Deep Is Your Love playing in your earphones and watching people go by with their daily lives, the calmness is a contrast to how your night went. You savour this moment with a deep breath, appreciating the fresh air all the while missing the earthly smell of your province.

You’d only started working night shifts after the Pittfest incident. It was an interesting change of pace and the cases during the night are much more interesting than it is in the day. Working more hours is a good distraction for you and the pay is certainly rewarding.

Your peace is cut short when the blaring sound of sirens over powers Hotel California playing in your ears. You take this as a sign to finally go home, grabbing your backpack next to you on the bench and swinging the straps on before hopping on your bicycle.

21:43

I’m coming over

Cassie sent that text three minutes ago. She’s probably still in her scrubs as she drives over to your house. Her clothing is not an issue though, she always brings extra clothes with her whenever she sleeps the night in your bed.

It still isn’t a problem if she’s in a hurry and forgets to bring some to change in, there’s a drawer on your dresser that she had claimed. It’s filled with her shirts and sweatpants that she has left, toiletries, and her broken stethoscope.

She doesn’t make you wait for her too long. Only ten minutes had passed and you could already hear her opening your front door.

You have your back facing the door of your bedroom, laying on your side. She knows that you’re still awake. She knows that you can’t sleep until you’re thoroughly spent, until your body finally gives up due to being so exhausted that it has no other choice but to sleep.

She doesn’t say anything upon entering your room, she lays immediately next to you. Her arms wrap around your hips, pulling you further into her until your back is flushed against her front. She places open-mouthed kisses on the base of your shoulder up to the back of your ears. You release a sigh when she softly bites onto the sensitive skin beneath the angle of your mandible.

You finally turn around to face her. Her hair is disheveled, bangs in disarray, and her cerulean eyes are staring back at you, pupils blown with lust. Placing a hand on her jaw, her skin is warm underneath your palm. Your thumbs gently caressing her under eye and cheek bone. You lean in, capturing her lips in a slow, heated kiss. Feeling your breaths mingle with each other, she slowly introduces her tongue into yours causing you to hum in satisfaction.

If she decides to take her time with you, the two of you will be up all night and you both work the day shift for tomorrow. She takes her hand that’s caressing your waist underneath your shirt and brings it up to your hair, gripping it tight so she could tilt your head up. The sudden roughness of her action draws out a gasp from you as she starts to assault your neck with feverish kisses.

“What’ll you do if I didn’t come over?” Her voice is muffled against your neck. Only pausing her actions to speak before licking a stripe up from the hollow of your collarbone to the base of your jaw.

“I’d run until I pass out.” You whisper breathily into her ear.

Your breathing becomes laboured when she pushes you onto your back as she settles on top of you. “It’s a good thing that I’m here then.” 

OCTOBER 14 - 08:14

This is the second time you’ve had your medication adjusted and you desperately hope that they’ll work this time. You don’t know how much longer you can withstand being so dependent on fatigue just to get a quick shut eye. It’s ironic, really. You’re a healthcare worker. You know all of the things that you should be doing to be healthy and yet here you are, an insomniac who lives off on stress, coffee, and protein bars who also uses sex to relieve some pent up emotions.

After your appointment with Dr. Jefferson, you decide to go down to the pitt as a shortcut to the ambulance bay where you had left your bike yesterday.

Despite your best efforts to remain unnoticed by the day shift, you’re unfortunately spotted by none other than Dr. Cassie Mckay. Her forehead immediately creases in both worry and confusion once she sees you, making an effort to catch you first before checking in on one of her patients.

“Hey. Didn’t you work a double?” Your grip on one of your backpack straps tighten unconsciously as she strides up next to you. 

The reason she knows that is because you had said that to her in case she wanted to spontaneously visit you in the middle of the night.

“I did. I’m heading home now.”

As the two of you pass by the central hub, you see Princess at the corner of your eye, staring at you and Cassie.

“Let me walk you out.” You quickly glance at her, deciding not to comment and instead let her accompany you out.

It’s a little bit strange. She doesn’t do this kind of thing with you, or anyone for that matter. Preferring to keep the interactions between the two of you purely professional as to not stir something up in the gossip mill.

She quietly lingers near you while you’re taking the locks off the bike and dragging it out of the rack. She’s tapping the toe box of her shoe on the pavement, hands in the pockets of her scrubs.

“Can I come over later? Harrison is still at his dad’s.” Asks Cassie ever so casually. Like she isn’t staying over for intercourse.

You blink at her. Looking at her figure for a second longer before replying. “Sure.” She lets her head hang down for a couple of seconds when she nods then leaves to go back to the ER.

You stand still, unmoving. You had said to yourself that this is strictly a no strings attached relationship, that this whole situation is simply a means to an end for both parties who are only seeking pleasure to relieve stress. So, why did your heart start to feel giddy when she walked you out?

Shaking your head, you convince yourself that she only did that to ask you if you would want her company for tonight and nothing more. You take a deep breath before putting on your earphones and cycling away.

23:05

Since your legs still feel weak after going several rounds and a couple more whilst in the shower, you stay seated at the dining table. Watching Cassie move around your kitchen like she lives here too. She has her brown hair down, only wearing her sports bra with her grey sweatpants hanging low on her hips.

Even though your body is already tired enough to go to sleep, she insisted on making the two of you instant ramen so that you’re not going to bed with an empty stomach. She had heard your belly growl in protest earlier while putting clothes on and carries you bridal style from your bedroom and sitting you down by the dining table because you had complained about how you can’t walk properly after she had her fill of you.

You can feel your mouth salivating in hunger as she places the steaming bowl of your precious Japanese instant ramen in front of you, the one you save for when you want to have a special treat after having a particularly rough shift.

Across the table, Cassie watches you as you harshly blow at the steaming noodles in an effort to cool them down faster before scarfing it down. It’s painfully obvious that you haven’t eaten properly today and it makes her frown at the thought that you aren’t taking care of yourself despite always reminding others, including her, to put themselves first before anything else.

The silence is comfortable between the two of you. With the quietness only getting disturbed by the occasional sounds of slurping some noodles and broth.

“Why don’t you drive your car anymore?” She asks, breaking the silence. She’s been itching to ask you that question for weeks as she noticed that you’ve opted to ride a bike anywhere you go instead of your car that’s left parked out in your garage.

You freeze.

The strong metallic scent in the air settles heavily in your nostrils and it lingers at the back of your throat. Everyone’s frantic, all trying their best to keep people from bleeding out and to stabilise the critical patients to be sent up to the OR or to neuro. 

Your disposable gown and gloves are all drenched in blood. The small splatter of blood on your safety glasses slightly obscures your vision and there’s someone who is screaming in both pain and distress but you’re focused on the patient that’s in front of you. You’re wrist deep into his abdomen, desperately shoving in gauze after gauze to try and stop his bleeding while you’re trying to secure his spot to get the next open OR. 

There’s a ringing in your ears as you try and even your breathing. The young man eerily shares the same features with your younger brother and it takes a lot for you not to think that he’s the one bleeding out from a gunshot wound in this bed. You don’t even register Dr. Walsh’s orders to wheel this patient upstairs until you’re pushed out of the way as they start to move him.

Your chest is heaving up and down quickly, seeing the ER overwhelmed with the influx of patients whose faces start to resemble your father’s bloody physique after the car crash and your mother’s lifeless form after giving birth to your youngest sibling. The edges of your vision are starting to blur but a voice shakes you out of your head.

Clearing your throat, you stare down at your fork. “Too busy to take it to a mechanic.”

A lie.

“I can fix it for you.” Cassie’s voice is gentle when she offers, her eyes soft as she looks at your figure.

You give her a small smile. “You don’t have to. Besides, riding a bike is kinda relaxing.”

She chortles. “Whatever you say.”

NOVEMBER 27 - 07:23

Surprisingly, it was a calm night shift. You were only setting up the ORs, double checking the schedule of surgeries, you scrubbed in for a couple of lap choles with Dr. Shamsi and Dr. Miller and some trauma cases with Emery that went on smoothly. It was tiring, but not stressful enough for you to have some kind of panic attack.

Your shoulders are slumped down due to exhaustion but that’s nothing out of the ordinary and it’s what you want to be able to just throw your body into your bed and doze off until your next shift. Everything’s going on as they should as you greet the two Filipina nurses at the hub while on your way to exit the hospital through the ambulance bay. Once outside, you release a breath that you were holding in.

As soon as you step down onto the road from the pavement, a light blue vintage pick up truck that is well-maintained pulls up in front of you. You see Cassie behind the wheel with her windows rolled down.

She gives you a hung smile, “Get in. I’ll get your bike.” You only stare at her, amused, as she exits her car. She gives you a look with her eyebrows raised and you snap out of your stupor to toss her the bike lock’s keys.

Cassie places her hand on the small of your back, leading you to the passenger seat and opens the door for you. “Make yourself comfortable.” She winks before walking off to get your bike.

After tossing your bag to the seats at the back, avoiding the brown bags filled with groceries, you lean over the car door to look at yourself in the mirror and as expected, your face is flushed red, including your ears which feels warmer than usual when you touch it.

You hear the car door slam shut after watching Cassie lift your bike on the bed of the truck on the car’s rearview mirror. You imagine her toned biceps hiding beneath her jacket, causing you to silently curse at the cold weather for having her wear a coat to stay warm.

“Chad has Harrison today so I thought, why not spend thanksgiving with you.” Your heart melts at her words.

“That’s actually kinda sweet.” You comment as she starts to drive. She sees you turn off the car radio on the corner of her eye but she doesn’t mind it.

“Hey. I can be sweet if I want to.”

You look at her playfully. “Sure, Mckay.”

DECEMBER 23 - 10:00

You still have your scrub cap on when Dr. Garcia had dragged you down to a trauma case with her. It’s a man who has fallen down a building in an attempt to clean the windows without having his safety harness on, causing him to fall five stories down and into a tree. He sustained an open fracture on his right tibia and fibula, broke a good amount of his ribs, as well as shattering his radius and ulna since he fell onto his right side.

Helping Yolanda with an endovascular embolization since he’s bleeding out from his tibial artery, you almost jerk your hand in surprise while assisting to guide the catheter in as your cellphone suddenly rings. You hear her click her tongue in irritation. Of course your cellphone suddenly rings the one time you forget to switch it to silent, in the middle of a challenging procedure as well.

“Sorry.” You apologise after it stopped ringing but the silence doesn’t last long as it rings once again making you groan loudly.

After the two of you exit trauma one, she looks at you pointedly. “You’re buying me a drink ‘cause of that.” Oddly, your phone rings once again.

A confused look flashes over Yolanda’s face because after years of knowing you, no one ever calls your smartphone while you’re in the middle of work.

“Yeah. I figured. I need to-” Awkwardly, you fish your smartphone out of your pocket, shooting her an apologetic look.

She cuts you off before you could finish your sentence. “Go. But hurry up, Walsh needs you for a hernia repair.” You hold your thumb up behind you as you’re already jogging out of the ED. Yolanda only shakes her head at you before going up the elevator.

You answer the call as soon as you exit the doors. “Ate.” Your brother’s voice fills your ears.

“Oh, Jojo. Anong meron, bakit ka natawag? ‘Asa trabaho pa ‘ko.” You sigh, rubbing your temple as you lean against the brick wall.

“Sorry ate, kasi,” He pauses and your nerves start to skyrocket. “Bakit?”

“Ayaw nilang irelease ‘yung grades ko ngayong finals. Kulang ata ‘yung pinadala mo kay ate Bea.” There’s shuffling at the other end.

“Ha?” Your forehead wrinkles in confusion. “Sobra pa nga ‘yung pinadala ko sainyo ngayong December.” Looking down at the concrete, you can feel a headache slowly creeping in and you’re so invested in the phone call that you don’t notice Dana coming out for a smoke.

“Ewan ko ate, tanungin mo nalang si ate Bea.” You can practically hear him shove the phone into your older sister’s hands.

“Bea. Bakit hindi kayo nakabayad ng tuition ni Joseph? 100k ang pinadala ko, anyare?” She’s sniffling as soon as you finish talking, causing your heart to drop down to your stomach.

“S-sorry. May job listing akong nakita sa Saudi, pang cleaners. Nag-apply ako tapos humingi ng 75k ‘yung agent ko para mabilis daw ako makaalis. Kaso nung tinanong ko kung kailan ‘yung flight ko, nawala na siya bigla.” You can feel the blood drain down your face, you feel your fingers start to get cold and tingly.

“Sorry talaga, hindi ko alam na hindi pala sila legit.”

You release a heavy sigh while gently massaging your eyelids. “Okay um.” Your mind goes blank as you keep your eyes shut. “Okay. Magpapadala nalang ulit ako sainyo pag nakauwi na ‘ko.” Several okays and thank yous are heard from your phone’s speaker

“Please, sa susunod sabihin mo muna sa’kin kung gusto mong magtrabaho abroad. Masyadong madaming agency ang nang-sscam lang.” Once again, you sigh while hearing her agree.

When you end the call, you immediately slide your back down against the brick wall and sit on top of your calves. Taking your scrub cap off, you fist the patterned cloth tightly in your hands, feeling hot tears prick at your waterline.

“Hey hey.” Dana takes huge steps and crouches down next to you, rubbing your back. “Everything okay?”

“No.” You relax your grip on the cap. “My sister got scammed of a thousand something dollars.” You mumble and the day’s charge nurse looks sympathetically at you.

“Oh kid.” She wraps her arms around you, placing your head against her chest as she embraces you.

The soft moment of Dana comforting you causes the tears in your eyes to fall, making your whole resolve crumble as everything comes out. Your shoulders shake as you sob into her, the fatigue and stress overwhelms you and her warmth reminds you of your mother’s embrace when you were young before she passed away.

“Everything will be okay.” She pats your back, placing her hands on your shoulders, she leans back to look at you. 

“Y’know kid, I should steal you from surgery and have you back down at triage. You have a talent for managing the chaos down here.” Her words manage to make you laugh as you wipe your tears away with the back of your hand. 

“If you threaten Walsh and Garcia I think you can steal me from them.” You hiccough and Dana smiles at your attempt to lighten your own mood up. 

“I might just do exactly that.”

By the time your sobbing has subsided and your breathing has finally evened out, the two of you see Princess rush out of the ER and call for Dana while you feel your phone vibrate. You answer the call.

“Hey, Anakin.” It’s Emery.

“Where are you? You need to prep the OR now.” Even when she’s supposed to be mad at you for being MIA at work, she always has this soft lilt in her voice reserved only for you. 

“I’m sorry. I’m heading up now.” Somehow, she could tell that you were crying through the hospital’s phone speaker.

“Are you okay? It’s fine if you’re not, I can have someone else assist me.” 

As you’re passing by the central hub, you see Dana with the red phone against her ear. You flash her a grateful smile before heading to the elevator.

“No no, I’m fine. I’m okay. I’m in the elevator now.” 

“Okay. If you need someone to talk to, I’m available.” You scoot to the side to make room for the gurney and the nurses transporting the patient.

“Yeah. Thanks, Em.”

23:36

Ever since you’d move as a physician assistant up at surgery, you, Emery, and Yolanda have a mini tradition of going out for drinks around Christmas time. That’s why the three of you can be seen at a bar and dressed up a little since you never really have the chance to do so, conversing since the alcohol has loosened everyone up except for Walsh.

You don’t notice the way Emery has been eyeing you the whole night, you don’t even notice it at work but Yolanda does and she has been waiting for the attending to make a move on you but she never does. 

“Anakin, why’d you go over to the dark side?” Asks Yolanda after downing her last shot of tequila.

“You’re acting like I don’t work day shifts too.” Your speech starts to slur and the warm lights of the bar seem to be dancing. “Those guys are a different breed of chaos.” A drunken giggle slips out of your lips.

Leaning further against the counter, you feel a warmth wrap around your waist but you’re not sure if it’s real or if it’s just your imagination due to being inebriated. Your gaze flits over to Yolanda making you confused as to why she’s suddenly smirking but you choose to ignore it.

“Now I’m stuck with incompetent losers as residents.” Emery visibly rolls her eyes at the other surgeon, meanwhile you have your eyes shut because the dancing lights are starting to make you a little dizzy.

“That’s because you suck at teaching them.” The surgical fellow glares at the attending next to you. 

Their banter ensues with you caught in the crossfire as you tune them out. Being the only one who barely had any drinks, Emery asks you if you want to come home since you look tired after realising that you had become quiet. 

You shrug and Emery looks down at her watch behind you. “Let’s get you home. We still have a shift tomorrow.”

“Boring.” Yolanda boos but her smirk still doesn’t disappear while Emery helps you gather your belongings and stand up properly.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Yoda.” Waving your fingers at her, she gestures her hand to shoo you away causing you to giggle uncontrollably.

Once you and Emery step out of the bar and into the cold streets, the wind and snow sobers you up but you still hold on tight on her upper arm, not wanting to slip on ice in front of your attending.

“Did you drive your car here?” You shake your head no and that was a bad idea because it made the whole world spin for a good five seconds.

“I took an uber.” Emery nods and starts leading you towards where she parked her car.

She purposefully didn’t drink anything with alcohol in it in order to keep an eye out for you since she figured that you would consume quite a bit of liquor tonight after seeing your red, puffy eyes earlier in the day. Also because you and Yolanda can get a bit rowdy when drunk and she would need to take up a double shift if the other surgeon isn’t able to come in due to poor decisions leading to a nasty hangover. 

DECEMBER 24 - 00:00

You had fallen asleep during the car ride and Emery managed to carry you inside your house without much difficulty. She was just about to leave right after placing you on your bed but your hand shot out and lightly held her wrist.

“You can stay. It’s late.” The hoarseness of your drowsy voice stirs something in Emery. 

Who is she to deny your little request? And since you’ve given her the privilege to stay over, she decides to take care of you.

But first, she exits your house to grab some extra clothes in her trunk. She always makes sure to keep extra shirts and scrub pants in her car since you can’t predict if you’re going to get some kind of liquid splashed onto you unwillingly. It’s one of the disadvantages in surgery or in medicine in general. 

After getting herself all tidied up, she managed to dress you without waking you up with the oversized shirt and sweatpants she found on your dresser. Now, your head is lying on her lap with her back against the headboard. Emery’s touch is light and delicate, wiping away your makeup so you could sleep peacefully. But little did she know, you start to stir awake.

Your eyes gently flutter open and you look up to see Emery focused on removing your lipstick. Seeing her dark irises linger on the creases of your lips, memorising the curves of your nose up close. The domesticity of the moment wakes the butterflies sleeping in your belly.

“You’re very pretty, has anyone told you that?” You whisper, she feels the warmth of your breath brush against her fingers.

“A couple. But none of them was you.” It’s cheesy but it’s true and the surgeon couldn’t care less if it would change the perspective of others about her if they see her like this. She’d do anything for you to smile in this way, shy and blushing.

You adjust your head on her lap. “You’re pogi and maganda at the same time. Poganda.” You couldn’t help but chuckle at your own cringey words. 

Emery only knows a few Filipino words and those were one of them. Your blatant compliment causes her to bashfully smile down at you but her confidence doesn’t waver.

“Yeah? But you, you’re cute.” She briefly taps your nose with her pointer finger and you unconsciously scrunch it up. “And very beautiful.” She adds, looking at you reverently. 

She lets the peaceful moment last before glancing over to the digital clock on your nightstand. She sighs. “It’s getting late.” She carefully removes your head from her lap and once again, you hold on to her wrist just as she stood up.

“Stay. Please.”

This is the night where Emery Walsh realises the extent of her feelings for you. She realised that she could never deny you and all she wants is for you to be happy and she’ll support you in whatever you’re going to do. Even if it meant that you won’t be choosing her in the long run.

19:00

Coincidentally, Emery and Yolanda manage to come across each other in the locker room. The attending is just clocking in for the night shift while the fellow is gathering her things to finally end her day shift.

Upon seeing Emery, Yolanda already has a smug smile forming on her lips. “So, what happened with you and Anakin?”

“I drove her home and took care of her.” She doesn’t even look at Yolanda while speaking, focusing on hanging her leather jacket up neatly against her other coat in her locker.

“Meaning?”

“I slept over and nothing happened.” Of course she isn’t mentioning the events that still make her blush when it suddenly pops up in her mind to Garcia. What happened last night is only for her and you to know. 

“Jesus, you’re a martyr.”

“Better a martyr than flirt with an intern.” Emery calls her out and watches Yolanda walk away with her back turned to her and showing her middle finger up in the air.

MARCH 22 - 19:45

After changing your prescription for over four times and figuring out what dosage works the best for you and you don’t really need Cassie’s assistance anymore. You’re still tired and a little burnt out but that’s just the average well-being of being an employee at PTMC. Sleep comes much easier to you but your little arrangement with the doctor never stopped.

After all these months of partaking in casual sex and taking care of each other through aftercare and little dates, you’ve developed a soft spot for the doctor. And you could only hope that she feels the same way about you as she whispers sweet nothings into your ear while pounding her member into you. 

Biting the back of your hand, you try your best to stifle your cries. But your attempt to refrain yourself in making any noise dissatisfies the woman on top of you, causing her to take your hands and pin them up beside your head, her thrusts becoming deeper and faster making you cry out for her loudly.

“That’s it. Don’t be shy, let me hear you.” Cassie has her eyes on you, watching how your face contorts in pleasure as her necklace sways back and forth with every moment she makes.

Her hips start to falter when the irritating ringing of your phone echoes in the room amidst the filthy sounds of your fucking. The persistence of the noise makes her groan and stop, causing you to whine. She reaches over to your nightstand, handing you your phone.

You clear your throat first before speaking. “Hello?” You then bite your lip when you feel her pull out of you and an audible squelch can be heard.

A knowing look is already plastered on Cassie’s face as she lays down, her front facing the bed. She shuts her eyes close while you run your fingers through her hair, letting your hand caress her back first before standing up to put on a new set of scrubs.

Your phone is still placed in between your ear and shoulder, giving the doctor an apologetic smile as you exit the bedroom. Cassie sighs as soon as you close the bedroom door shut, smushing her face further into your pillows.

23:40

The aroma of the burgers and fries that you bought wafts in the air as you enter your house. You figured to surprise her with the food from her favourite restaurant to apologise for your sudden exit, hoping that she isn’t mad at you.

Her figure is sprawled out on the bed and she’s still bare with your blanket only covering half of her lower body. Rather than perusing your dresser for your own clothes, you strip down, leaving only your underwear on and don her grey jacket.

Gently, you shake her awake. “I bought you your favourite. It’s in the kitchen.” She hums, dragging her hand down her face to wake herself up before opening her eyes.

“I’m sorry.” She observes your features first before replying, “Don’t be.”

She sits up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and placing her cheek against your stomach while her arms wrap around your hips. She sighs in contentment before releasing her grip on you.

Taking a deep breath, you try your best to ignore the loud thumping of your heart while walking over to your kitchen.

As you’re plating the food, Cassie finally exits your room sporting one of her oversized band tees. You can smell her shampoo as she passes by you, sitting down on her usual spot at the dining table.

The two of you ate comfortably with Cassie asking a couple questions about the sudden emergency about an in-patient that interrupted your stress-relieving session.

It didn’t take long for your disrupted time to be continued as she pounces on you after washing the dishes. Your knuckles turn white while gripping the edge of the counter. You can feel her tease your entrance as she pushes the lace of your underwear to the side.

“Please.” She’s met with no resistance when she slowly slides her tip in you, your breathy moans mixing together as she watches her length disappear inside you.

“Fuck.” She exhales slowly, her hands busy with squeezing your breasts and occasionally pinches your nipples making your breath hitch and your walls clench around her.

She drops her head down on your shoulder, sucking a light mark on your pulse point.

“I wish we could stay like this forever.”

03:36

When you’re back on your bed with her arms and legs lazily thrown over you, you can’t help but watch her peaceful sleeping figure. You were the one to trim her bangs when it started to irritate her eyes and sometimes you’d braid her hair before work when you both had the extra time. The longer you study her features, a gnawing feeling settles in the bottom of your stomach.

All of this means nothing but a mutual agreement between two adults seeking to feel something else other than the destructive nature of your work. Those little dates are only a show of your “friendship”. A thank you for opening your legs to Cassie instead of letting her rot in her bed accompanied by a boring book, alone.

Yet somewhere along the way, you’ve started to feel something for her. It’s not love, of course not. But you’ve started to miss her. Her touch, her presence, her whispers in your ear telling you how good you’re doing for her. Maybe it’s the start of something irrational. Maybe it’s lust. You hope that it’s the latter because it’s much simpler since it only means that you miss her touch and how she could bring you to a mind numbing orgasm, nothing more.

Others have noticed this strange tension between the two of you when interacting with each other at work. The way she had stared at you across the room with palpable hunger made rumours fly and it bothered you as it made you overthink. Does she also seek your company the way you do? This shouldn’t be taking up any space in your mind because it’s been clear ever since the beginning that it’s a no strings attached kind of relationship.

Cassie must have sensed that you’re awake as she tightened her hold on you and nuzzled her face into your chest. Her movements wiped away all the thoughts that’s been frolicking in your mind so you take it as a sign to finally give your body its well needed rest.

JUNE 19 - 19:03

The park is mainly quiet aside from the relentless teasing of the nurses who you’re sure only went out to the bench to point out the sexual tension between you and Dr. Mckay in front of you. Even bringing up a few interactions as evidence that the older woman is actually smitten by you. There’s a wide grin plastered on Kim’s face while Mateo elaborates how the doctor kept asking for you earlier when you were helping with the walk-in patients. 

“You’re reading too much into it.” 

It doesn’t surprise you that it’s Princess who said that. After all, she’s the one who’s wary about the things between you and Cassie when you told her and Perlah about it. She has always said that the doctor had become numb to other emotions except for empathy and love for her son and you’re starting to think that she’s actually spot on with her observation. 

Meanwhile, Mateo looks surprised. You couldn’t blame him though. The other two Filipinas are infamous gossipers in the ED. When there’s a rumour circulating in the air, they’re the ones who are always on top of it.

“Really?” He says in disbelief.

“I mean, she’s a PA.” Princess shrugs, not bothering to give him a proper explanation, assuming that he already knows what her argument is.

Before anyone could say anything, the doctor who has just been the subject of their conversation suddenly appears and everyone instantly shuts their mouths. But Cassie’s attention isn't focused on them. It’s focused on you.

“Let’s go? Your bike’s already in my truck.” She only makes eye contact with you. Everyone’s lips are agape in amusement, hiding their growing smirks as you glare at them while standing up.

The doctor finally turns to them. “See you guys on Monday." Cassie politely smiles as you walk away first and the nurses return her smile and bid her goodnight.

As soon as the two of you are out of earshot, the gossip restarts. This time, they’re supplied with the irrefutable fact that Cassie is giving you a ride home after work.

“See. I told you there’s something going on with them.”

21:37

A shitty reality tv show is playing on your tv and somehow it has managed to completely grab Cassie’s attention while her arm is draped over your shoulders. Usually you’d be invested in it too but what Princess had said about the doctor keeps circling back in your mind because you’ve reached the metaphorical edge of a cliff.

You’re on the brink of falling in love with Cassie Mckay, your fuck buddy. And you’re left wondering if you should take the risk and start falling for her or to stay safe and step back. You shouldn’t have agreed to this predicament but you can’t find it in yourself to regret sleeping with her because as unhealthy as it sounds, the sex was also a great distraction and it indeed helped you sleep.

Unfortunately, she notices the distant look in your irises and it worries her a little, remembering your melancholic state months ago. “Is everything okay?” You turn your attention to her, but it takes you a few seconds to reply.

“What are we?”

Cassie’s heart drops to her stomach and you can see her throat bob up and down as she nervously swallows. It’s the question she’s dreaded to hear knowing that it’s going to be brought up much sooner than later. 

She isn’t blind, Cassie knows exactly what she’s doing. From giving you rides home from work and taking you out on dates whether it’s treating you out to restaurants or going on spontaneous roadtrips. She isn’t fully numb either since she’s felt this magnetic attraction towards you after your third time of sleeping together and she’s been acting on instinct ever since then. She can also tell that you’ve started to come into the same dilemma as her these past couple months.

If things were under normal circumstances, then she wouldn’t ask for this to be casual and instead asked you out properly. But things are complicated. You’re one mishap away from “joking” about suddenly disappearing Cassie’s convinced that she’s soulless as she haven’t felt the need to cry as an emotional response to all the fucked up things that she’s seen.

So, she tries to play it off as casual. “What do you mean?” We’re friends, right?” She can physically see your whole psyche pause as you take in her words.

“Oh.”

You expected it already. But your heart still had a smidge of hope.

Cassie couldn’t take it back now as much as she desperately wanted to. But she believes that this is for the best and you’ll be able to find someone much better than her. Someone who’s willing to give you everything unlike her because she can’t give you what you truly deserve, not right now.

“I…” You start, trailing off your word. Once you moved an inch away from Cassie, she immediately felt fear. She could already tell what you’re about to say next when your eyes drifted away from her and to the floor instead.

“I think we should stop this thing for a little while.” It’s obviously an understatement but Cassie plays along for both of your sakes.

“I want to see if my new sleeping pills actually works.” The excuse is good enough that you might actually convince yourself with it, it isn’t a complete lie either.

“That’s fine by me.”

JULY 1 - 19:53

It took a while for the rumours to subside. Only until you purely worked up at surgery for a few days straight did it start to leave the minds of your nosy co-workers. The way you both avoided each other really helped too. You thought that you were hiding flawlessly from the doctor but she was intentionally taking the long way around the trauma rooms to have the probability of running into you a small percentage when either of the surgeons dragged you along with them.

But of course, Kim never really forgot about it. She brought it up when Dr. Robinavitch had dropped her name along with mentioning everyone else when talking about the residents who have great potential just because Princess wanted to know about what he thinks.

“What happened with you and Dr. Mckay?” Asks Kim causing everyone to look at you with Robby and Jesse having their brows lifted up in wonder.

You’re not exactly in the mood to talk about your situationship with your co-workers, especially not with an attending in the equation. It is his job to know everything that’s going on in the ED, particularly if it could disrupt the balance of the department because of two people that had engaged in intercourse and now have the air awkwardness between them that’s synonymous with a post nut clarity. 

“Nothing.” You answer innocently with a shrug. Kim gives you a look that’s full of suspicion but thankfully, she doesn’t press you anymore about it.

Both Princess and Perlah can see through your act of innocence and they’re both willing to let it slide for now since they know that they can get a proper answer out of you when only the three of you are left. And it didn’t take long for everyone else to start taking their leave.

“Kamusta kayo ni doc astig?”

…continued in captivated

ENGLISH TRANSLATION

DECEMBER 23 - 10:00

Joseph: Sis.

Salazar: Oh, Jojo. What’s up? Why’d you call, I’m still at work.

Joseph: Sorry, it’s cause,

Salazar: What?

Joseph: They don’t want to release my grades this finals, I think the money you sent to Bea was not enough.

Salazar: Ha? I sent more than enough this December.

Joseph: I dunno, ask Bea.

Salazar: Bea. Why didn’t you pay Joseph’s tuition? I sent 100k, what happened?

Bea: S-sorry. I saw a cleaners job listing at Saudi. I applied and the agency said to pay 75k for me to get on a flight as quickly as possible. But when I asked when my flight is, he disappeared. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know they weren’t legit.

You have been on call for two double shifts back to back due to being understaffed and being the favourite PA of both Dr. Garcia and Dr. Walsh who seems to always request your presence whenever they’re working. Running only on coffee, egg sandwiches, and prayers, you silently wonder why you decided to pursue this profession where you could’ve been sitting in front of a computer all day long and not have a human being’s life dependent on your hands. However, that kind of career is not as rewarding for you unlike being in the medical field. It has all sorts of thrill that isn’t present in your average nine to five but of course, it is much more physically and mentally draining.

Thankfully with the company you’re surrounded with, you could forget how worn-out you feel by simply having a conversation with them. Especially when there’s something simmering in the air during this day’s shift. 

“Kamusta kayo ni doc astig?” Asks Princess who’s extremely curious as to why there’s a weird tension between you and the third year resident.

The other two Filipina nurses are the last people who you could think of sharing a secret with as they’re notorious gossipers on the ED but on the contrary, they’re actually the best to confide in. 

You shake your head before answering. “Tinapos ko na.” 

“Baka mahulog lang ako para sa wala.”

“Ayaw niya talaga?” Now, it’s Perlah’s turn to question and you shake your head once again. “Hindi pa raw siya ready magkajowa.”

“Pero pag sex, ready agad?” Princess raises an eyebrow as she quickly remarks.

“Ibang usapan naman ‘yun.”

Perlah quickly glances at Princess before addressing you. “Buti nalang tinigil mo na, masasayang ka lang sakaniya.”

“Oo nga, ang ganda ganda mo pa naman.” The smile filled with flattery that appears on Princess’ lips doesn’t go unnoticed by you. 

“Sus, binobola mo lang ako.” 

“Huy totoo kaya.” She nudges your side using her elbow.

“Thanks.” The sense of satisfaction can be seen in their tight-lipped smiles when you accept the compliment.

Of course, the few seconds of silence gets cut off quickly as Princess jumps into another conversation topic. “Sa tingin niyo ba talagang tatagal ng three months si Robby sa sabbatical niya?”

“Bakit naman hindi?” Asks Perlah whose confusion is apparent on her facial expression. 

But the other nurse doesn’t answer her and instead thinks out loud. “Sana hindi strict ‘yung attending na stand in muna para kay Robby.” 

“Sana. Jusko ang hirap na nga ng buhay sa ER, dagdagan mo pa ng kupal.” You huff out, getting a laugh from your two colleagues. 

“Pustahan, after one month, babalik na siya.”

“Deal.”

JULY 4 - 07:00

With your eyes closed, you take a deep breath. Taking in the outside air after being stuck inside the hospital for seven hours straight. Unfortunately, your little moment is disturbed by the noise of an ambulance’s siren accompanied by the deep rumble of a bike.

“A motorcycle, huh? Somebody’s got a death wish.” You comment as Dr. Robinavitch parks his vintage motorcycle across your bike that is somehow still not carried away by a thief. 

He replies while getting off the bike. “Isn’t it too early to have a break?”

“Walsh called me at 12 am to assist ‘cause they were down a nurse. Apparently the guy got sacked before he clocked in so she called her only reinforcement, me.” Robby laughs at the absurdity of everything while swinging his backpack on before going around to the main entrance of the emergency department as per his routine. 

An exhausted sigh exits your lungs, watching the paramedic leave the engine running as they hurry in getting the patient inside. You spend a couple more minutes outside before stepping back in the hell incarnate dubbed as the pitt. 

Lena gives you a sympathetic smile after you greet her, knowing that it’s supposed to be your day off but got dragged in unwillingly due to unfortunate circumstances.

“Where the hell is everybody?” Asks Robby who notices the lack of familiar faces as he walks towards the hub.

“Our new attending is torturing our intern and med students in trauma one. She came in early to meet the night shift and took things over.” Lena explains as Robby and Dr. Shen flank the two of you while you wait for her instructions.

“Okay. That takes giant balls of disrespect.”

“I guess she’d rather torture the poor guys than see how we do things.” The night’s charge nurse gives you a look above her glasses and you give her a shrug in return.

“Giant balls of disrespect was the name of my band in high school.” Shen adds before walking to the other side of the hub.

“So, tell me about this new attending.”

With your hands crossed against your chest, you lean against the table, listening in to them. “Uh, she’s pretty, divorced, one kid. Can already tell she is a strict rule follower. I’m probably gonna grow to hate her.”

“What’s her name again?” Suddenly, you feel your phone buzzing in your pant’s pocket. Immediately, you pick it up, managing to listen to two voices all at once.

“Dr. Baran Al-Hashimi.” 

Placing the phone back in your pocket, you stand up straight. “I haven’t even seen her yet and I don’t like her already.” You whisper to Lena.

“I’ll be up with Garcia, duty calls.” The charge nurse nods at you and you give the two doctors a tired smile, jogging towards the elevator.

09:00

After two hours of checking on patients that are post-op, Dana calls you down to the pitt, needing another hand to manage the chaos while she’s showing the new nurse the ropes but not without advising you to take a quick break somewhere else first before jumping into action beside them.

Since the word that an abandoned baby Jane Doe was found in the restroom went around quickly, you decide to take a quick detour first to the pedes room. 

As you’re heading to pedes, you hear an unfamiliar voice reading out loud a lab result of a patient. Unable to curb your curiosity, you take a few steps towards the hub to get a peek at the new attending. 

“Jackson Davis, tox screen negative for cocaine, amphetamines, marijuana, PCP, benzos, and opioids.” She’s talking to two police officers with a man sitting down on a wheelchair. You hum in wonder to yourself, thinking what happened within those hours that you were upstairs. 

“So no drugs in his system?”

“Nope.”

“Taser barbs on the back of the victim’s neck?”

“Yep.”

Her short responses to the officers amuses you, maybe she isn’t as bad as you originally thought. Then, she turns around and you finally catch a glimpse of her face.

You feel as if your feet are stuck to the ground while your breath is taken away by her beauty. Your heart beats loudly in your chest, watching how her curls are perfectly framing her face, her pretty dark doe eyes skimming through the tablet, and her presence that exudes confidence that is enough to make your knees weak. Heat rushes to your face, getting embarrassed by how you forgot to breathe while looking at the new attending, silently hoping that no one saw you lag in real time. Taking a deep breath, you compose yourself before heading to pedes. 

It’s quiet in the pediatrics room, all the noises outside are muffled giving the sense of tranquility in the middle of a busy ER. Immediately, you’re drawn to the bassinet in the room. You can hear her start to get antsy, like she’s seeking warmth. 

“Hello.” You coo down at her before picking her up and placing her head against your chest.

Rocking her gently, her eyes slowly start to flutter shut. “How could someone leave a beautiful baby like you all alone.” You whisper more to yourself while looking down at the baby in your arms.

Unbeknownst to you, a certain dark-haired doctor spots you and watches you through the glass door of the room. A soft smile tugs at the corners of her mouth, watching you put the now asleep baby down before walking off to a consult. 

You rest your hands against the bassinet, slightly leaning in. Carefully watching baby Jane Doe’s tiny chest moving up and down. The peacefulness of the whole interaction makes you aware of how heavy your eyelids have gotten. Unable to fight off your sleepiness, you close your eyes. 

A minute passes and you feel your head lose against gravity making you jump awake. You shake yourself as an attempt to wake your body up and you lift your hands up to gently rub your eyes. Taking one last look at the baby, you feel your chest tighten in sorrow and pity before exiting the room quietly.

On the way to the elevator, your gaze immediately sets on Dr. Mckay who’s visibly troubled and is heading her way to the central hub. She sees you and you stop her in her tracks.

“Hey. You okay?” Cassie watches your face form a frown, showing concern for her.

“Yeah. It’s just,” She pauses and sighs, glancing over your shoulder seeing people move around.

She decides to change the subject. “I should be asking you that. Did you sleep?” Dark circles are prominent under your eyes and your eyelids are slightly droopy, a little bloodshot.

“Just woke up from a minute nap if that counts.” Cassie huffs at you. A bit irritated as you downplay your sleep deprivation, aware that you haven’t been able to get proper sleep in almost two weeks.

Just as she’s about to scold you, you speak. “Well, I gotta find a room to take a nap in, Dana’s orders.” You quickly give her a half-assed salute with a sloppy grin, heading off towards the elevator.

10:00

You and Princess’ paths cross near the central hub, your gaze falling on Dr. Al-Hashimi who quickly intercepts Dr. Santos to talk about something. Beside you, your fellow Filipina nudges your elbow.

“Anong pinag-usapan niyo ni doc astig?” Her voice is low, not wanting Dana to see the two of you whispering to each other.

“Nothing, actually.”

Despite your best efforts on hiding from the charge nurse, she notices you standing around. “Hey, didn’t I tell you to take a nap?”

Taking a step closer to the hub, you flash Dana your signature tired smile. “Couldn’t find a bed.” You lean against the counter. “Plus, we might get transfers from Westbridge. You know Garcia likes having me on stand by.” 

She takes a moment to assess your state, seeing your miraculously clean dark blue scrubs and lightly disheveled hair due to taking your scrub cap on and off several times. “At least drink some coffee, will you? Can’t have you pass out in sleep deprivation and lose a good PA.” 

Obediently following her advice, you start to make a beeline to the break room, muttering to yourself, “I should ask Shen how he gets his iced coffees while working.”

Seeing as you’re the only one in the break room, you take this moment to relax a little. Quietly singing a song that you haven’t heard in a while as you’re pouring out the stale coffee and starting a fresh brew.

“Kapag tumibok ang puso, lagot ka na, siguradong huli ka~” You sway your hips lightly while humming.

“Are you from night shift?” 

“Ay huli ka!” The sudden arrival of a voice startles you, making you jump and turn around to face the person.

You didn’t hear the door open and now you’re only a few feet away from Dr. Al-Hashimi. She stares at you, studying your features and trying her best to hide her amused smile but she fails.

The soft sound of you clearing your throat is audible in the brief silence. “Sorry. I was waiting for the coffee.” You awkwardly point behind you to the coffee machine to break the small tension in the room. 

Baran’s eyes dart down to the appliance before looking back up to yours, making you think that she’s waiting for an answer to her previous question.

“I’m usually on day shift but sometimes they call at night if they need an extra pair of hands.”

“Good to know.” The corners of her mouth are still slightly lifted up as she takes one last look at your face before leaving the room.

As soon as the door closes shut, you release a breath that you aren’t aware you were holding in. Clutching the edge of the counter with your hand, you feel as if you had just ran a marathon with how fast your heart is beating.

Outside, Perlah watched the whole thing unfold before her eyes through the small glass at the door. Wearing a cheeky grin as she holds her hand out to stop Princess who’s walking by.

“Bantayan mo si doc ganda, minamata niya si bebe.” She whispers and they catch a sight of Baran across the room who still has the same smile present on her lips.

Back inside the break room, you ignore how hot the coffee is, chugging down the saviour of your many sleepless nights as well as scarfing down your first protein bar of the day. And while you’re finishing your second mug of coffee, your phone vibrates. Once again summoning you to the depths of the surgical ward upstairs.

16:00

While you and Dr. Garcia are chatting about her fellow surgeon right after checking which OR can take Mr. Foster, she is suddenly called down. Considering the two of you have been working together for years now, your conversation continues even when you’re hurrying to a critical patient.

“You could’ve ignored Walsh’s call, y’know?” As soon as you and Yolanda enter the elevator, you hit the basement button for the ER. 

An eight year old boy from the waterpark accident is waiting for the two of you downstairs at the ED. Even though you’ve seen a lot of tragedies befall to people of any age, treating a young kid like this still racks up your nerves more than usual.

“Yeah. But she’ll probably make my life miserable if I did.” The elevator finally opens as you and Yolanda swiftly walk towards trauma one.

“It’s Emery, she’s always making everyone’s lives miserable.” 

“Not mine.” You huff before pushing the door open for you and Yolanda.

“What’d I miss?” She immediately puts gloves on, with you in tow right behind her.

“All the fun.”

“Slash trach.”

“Seriously?” You and Yolanda say in unison, making Robby and Langdon share a quick glance with each other.

“Fractured larynx. Couldn’t oxygenate, couldn’t ventilate.” While Baran is talking, you feel the butterflies fluttering in your stomach at the mere sight of her.

Yolanda takes a closer look at the boy’s neck. “You use a meat cleaver on this kid?” She says upon closer inspection.

“ENT can revise the trach in the OR.”

“They’ll be thrilled to clean up your mess.” You frown at her words.

“Or maybe they’ll thank us for not letting him die.” Despite her frustration, Baran confidently makes eye contact with Yolanda.

She turns around, lightly shaking her head, pushing the door open with more force than usual. You swallow as everyone watches her exit the room with bated breath, half still feeling the rush and nerves from the earlier events and the other half from the palpable tension in the room. It stays silent for a couple of beats before you speak. 

“Tell Emmy I’m not clocking in tomorrow.” You quickly glance at Yolanda before exiting the room and throwing your gloves away.

You look around for any signs of the new attending, taking huge steps so you could catch up to her quickly. A couple of seconds later, you see her at the spot where there’s barely any foot traffic in.

Her back is turned towards you. “Hey.” Baran turns around, not expecting for you to follow her out.

“Don’t take Garcia too seriously, she’s always like that. Even to me and the whole ED thinks that I’m her favourite.” You pause for a second before adding, “and Dr. Walsh too.” Her eyes flit down to your nose and lips before going back up to look at your irises.

Baran sighs. “We just saved a kid’s life and somehow I’ve made a mess for somebody else to fix.” You can see the tension in her shoulders as she looks away from you.

“It’d be my pleasure if I was the one to close that up.” A smile subconsciously appears on your lips and your words catch Baran’s attention. “I’ve never seen someone do that before. That was really cool.”

Then, you see Yolanda’s figure in the corner of your eye. She stops and stares at you with her phone up to her ear before walking away. You’re familiar with that look. Her eyes are signalling for you to step up and accompany her to where she’s about to head to next. 

The attending next to you also notices the surgeon’s presence, she quickly glances at Yolanda before turning her attention back to you completely.

You say in a hushed tone, “Don’t tell the surgeons that I told you this but,” You look around to check if anybody’s listening. “I think you’re my favourite doctor.” Baran chuckles and grins at you. 

Reluctantly, she watches you walk away. She couldn’t help but drift her eyes down to your bottom before she called you.

“Hey.” You stop and turn back around to face her. She takes a couple steps to get closer to you. 

You feel her breath caress your cheeks and the warmth radiating off of her. Your heart starts to sprint at her close proximity. Your breath hitches as she lifts her hand up, carefully tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. 

“There.” She whispers. Her fingertips slowly ghost over your cheekbone down to your jawline like she’s carefully studying a fragile porcelain doll. Her dark doe eyes once again carefully observes your lips, watching them part slightly as you inhale.

“I- I should go now.” Your voice is small, forgetting how to speak normally with your heart trying to escape your chest.

Baran nods and moves her hand to the bottom of your nape, gently applying pressure for you to turn around as she guides you back to reality. You immediately miss her touch once you step away from her, jogging over to where Yolanda is standing right next to the door that leads to the staircase.

“Walsh is gonna have my head on a spike if you’re not coming in tomorrow.” She picks up your conversation from before as the two of you head to the direction of the elevator.

“You know that I don’t work weekends. It’s supposed to be my day off today.” You feel your heart start to calm down as you distract yourself with Yolanda’s little dilemma.

“The only reason that I’m here is ‘cause Emery called me last night.” A confusing beat of silence occurs. You turn your head to the side to look at her. Only to see that she’s giving you a suggestive look. 

You roll your eyes at her, turning your sights back ahead to watch your steps. You’re not using your body as a bargaining chip for her to stop whining and have a peaceful sunday.

“No. I’m not having sex with you.” Says you, sternly. “Or ever, for that matter.” You can feel her start to open her mouth to say something.

But before she could, you speak. “I’m not working tomorrow, end of discussion.”

“Just the thought of sleeping with you makes me want to recite three hail marys.” You say in a whisper but Yolanda hears it. An amused grin breaks out of her face.

“Oh really now?”

“And please don’t drag me into your mess with Santos.”

The two of you pass Dr. Mohan just before entering the elevator. She heard almost all of your dialogue and couldn’t stop the grimace from forming as she stared at the two of you, baffled. Watching the elevator doors close, seeing you and Yolanda’s neutral expressions like nothing happened.

JULY 6 - 07:00

“Dr. Al, are you looking for someone?” Asks Princess with a teasing lilt.

The Filipina nurse is sitting down at the central hub, going over her charts with Lena and Dana discussing the handoffs from night to day shift. Even though it doesn’t seem like it, the charge nurses’ attentions are piqued.

Baran smiles politely at her. “Yes, actually. Where’s Salazar? She said she works day shift.”

“Why?” Everyone’s attention turns to Whitaker who suddenly popped up. “It’s just, she’s in surgery so…” He explains while awkwardly looking back and forth to the attending and the nurses before taking his leave.

Over the counter, Lena leans closer to Baran to whisper to her. “The surgeons are a little bit selfish with Salazar.” Her face visibly contorts to a puzzled expression.

“She’s stationed up at surgery but goes down here when it gets busy.” Perlah answers, elbow propped on the hub’s counter.

“But she’s taking the night shifts next week. I think.” Lena adds without looking up from the computer screen.

She almost frowns but instead, the disappointment shows in her eyes. “Don’t worry, doc, sometimes Dr. Garcia or Dr. Walsh brings her down here. Or if you’re lucky, she goes down by herself.” Princess reassures Baran while wearing a cheeky smile and is hit lightly on the shoulder by her fellow Filipina. 

“Okay, back to work now ladies, we have an incoming MVA. Drunk driver versus pedestrian, three minutes out. The pedestrian comes in first.”

“She’ll be down here in a few with Walsh, you’ll see.” It’s now Lena’s turn to smirk at Baran who only shakes her head before walking away, trying to find someone who can accompany her.

Just as the nurses were left on the hub, Trinity sidled up to the counter in front of the two Filipina nurses. “Dr. Al-Hashimi is looking for who?”

“Si bebe.” Answers Princess.

“I thought she has a thing with Walsh?”

“Nope.” Trinity glances at Perlah who replies.

She then whistles an off-key tune, “I’m betting Walsh.” Trinity knocks on the counter two times, looking at the two Filipinas before walking away.

While Dr. Langdon is heading over to the ambulance bay to wait for the incoming trauma, you and Emery appear freshly out from the elevator.

“I came down here to meet the new attending, didn’t think there’d be some action on the way.” The surgeon announces herself, waltzing in front of trauma one.

Langdon pauses, used to seeing Garcia strut in the ED like she owns the place instead of night shift’s terror princess. “Where’s Yoyo?”

“Our beloved trauma surgeon is having her day off. She’s punishing me for not clocking in yesterday.” You explain as you stand beside the surgeon.

She looks at you like you’d wounded her. “I’m your punishment? I thought you liked my company?” Frank’s mouth is slightly agape, having never seen Emery act like this before.

“I do. But Yoda thinks that  you’re gonna make my life living hell if I didn’t show up like you wanted to.”

Your conversation with the two doctors get cut short as the ambulance finally arrives. Dr. Abbott jumps in with you and Emery as the patient gets wheeled into trauma two while Frank and Baran work on the drunk driver in trauma one.

After stabilizing the patients and sending them up to the OR, you and Emery lag behind the trauma room while the rest are off to work on their charts and start barking out orders.

“You have great potential as a surgeon, why be a PA?” Emery asks you as she takes off her used gloves and into the red bin with you following in suit.

“I was supposed to.” The two of you exit the room and slowly walk to a quieter part of the ER. “But my dad died a few days after I graduated my pre-med. He was the only one providing for our family back in Manila so I needed to step up.”

“It’s not too late to become one.” Emery looks at you softly, a rare sight when she’s usually cutthroat and throwing back sarcastic insults.

“Can’t afford it. My youngest brother is still in college and my sister can’t find a stable job, most of my paycheck goes to them.” 

Baran discreetly watches the two of you speak to each other at the central hub, pretending to read something on the tablet that she’s holding. Meanwhile Trinity sees all of this and dons a cheeky attitude, feeling smug about her bet. 

“How’s your charting?” Baran asks Trinity after seeing her randomly standing around the hub. 

She fights the urge to roll her eyes, deciding to play nice so she could ask Baran about you. “I’m almost caught up with my patients.”

The attending gives her a satisfied nod. “That’s good.” Right before Baran could walk away to see a patient, Trinity asks her a question.

“How are you liking this place so far?” It takes a second for Baran to reply, a little surprised on why she’s suddenly being friendly to her.

“It’s good. So far I’ve already implemented some tools to increase the efficiency and improve patient satisfaction scores for the walk-in patients out in triage.” While answering Trinity’s question, Baran sees you and Emery walk back to the elevator over her shoulder.

“The staff?? Anyone you’re getting along with?” Before she could even process the question, Jack is already calling out Trinity’s name. Causing the girl to mutter “duty calls” before jogging away.

While she’s looking up at the board to see which patient needs to be seen, a voice grabs her attention.

“You’re the new attending?” Emery walks up to Baran with her hands on her hips, without you lingering around her.

“Baran Al-Hashimi.”

“Emery Walsh.”

The surgeon stands confidently all the while being nonchalant, making Baran wonder why you spend so much time with them despite being the polar opposite of the surgeons.

“A little birdie told me you did a slash trach on your first day.” Baran feels a bit honoured as you talked to someone else about her.

“I did. Yes.” Emery sizes her up before once again speaking.

“You have balls of steel, Dr. Al-Hashimi. I gotta keep my eye out for you, can’t have my favourite PA move to ED ‘cause she thinks I’m boring now.” 

Baran stands still after Emery walks away. Blinking away as she tries to digest what the surgeon had said to her.

17:00

You can’t tell if Emery is enacting her revenge on you or if she’s giving you a break. She has made you do scut work the whole day and have you going around to talk about post-op care for the patients that are about to be discharged.

After complaining that she’s coddling you today, Emery finally sends you down to the pitt but only to help bring up a patient that’s about to go in for an appendectomy. 

While you’re talking to Princess about the operating room and that Dr. Shamsi is going to be the surgeon on this patient, Baran immediately takes notice of your appearance as you have this light air that surrounds you, like aphrodite walking amongst mortals.

As you’re helping wheel out the patient to the elevator, you hear Dr. Al-Hashimi’s voice calls out your name. When your colleagues have confirmed that it’s okay for you to get left behind, you find her waiting for you at the workstation south of the central hub.

“You called?” She takes her time to assess your tired yet eye-catching state.

“Can we talk in private?” Puzzled, your brows crinkle in for a second.

“Sure.” She flashes you an appreciative smile before leading the way towards the stairwell.

Baran looks around first, checking if there’s someone passing by before talking. “How are things up at surgery?”

“The usual.” You shrug. “Walsh has me on scut but I don’t know if it’s a curse or a blessing.” The older woman finds herself lost in your eyes all the while intently listening to whatever you say.

Her eyes drifting down to your lips, she asks, “Are you available for dinner?”

JULY 10 - 08:00

In true fashion of being employees at the pitt, a secret betting pool has started that already accumulated around 500 dollars in the pot. At first the bets consisted of who will be the first one to make a move on you, Walsh or Al-Hashimi. Then it became specific, how many times will Baran touch your back when she’s near you and will they be able to watch in real time on how Emery immediately changes her tone to a softer one to talk to you right after roasting someone’s bad idea or slow decision making.

“And that’s three.” Princess announces in a quiet voice to Trinity and Perlah who’s near her vicinity.

The trio is currently watching you and Baran exit south 19 with the attending’s hand resting on your lower back as she guides you out. Conveniently for everyone betting, you Baran, and Emery are all working double shifts today to ensure your proper weekend off, giving plenty of entertainment to the bettors aside from the hustle and bustle of the ED.

Trinity wears a smug smile as she placed a bet of 20 times in the span of 12 hours for 35 dollars. “Pano ba ‘yan, nangangati na ‘yung palad ko.” She deliberately places her hands in her pockets to further her claim.

“Yabang.” Exclaims Perlah as Trinity walks away.

But what they don’t see from the distance is how you seem off today. Baran spotted it immediately, the usual glint in your eyes is missing and it's always present regardless if you were tired or not. It’s replaced by a vacant stare, a mixture of having a ton of rapid thoughts and wandering aimlessly in an endless void.

The attending inherently places a hand on your figure whenever you’re near her or passing by, like she needs to feel your warmth in order to function properly. Usually it’s fleeting touches, now she lets her hand linger, carefully caressing your back in an attempt to give you comfort.

Of course you immediately pick up what Baran is doing. Your senses are always heightened when it’s about her. It’s tempting to melt into her touch but every time you close your eyes, you remember the way she looks at Trinity when she talks to her. You are aware that there’s nothing going on between them, especially now that Trinity swears to never mess around with her superiors after Yolanda. But you can’t help that gnawing feeling in your insides. It’s embarrassing to admit to yourself but yes, you’re a little bit jealous. And are you planning to make Baran jealous as well? Yes, you definitely are.

13:00

Surprisingly, Emery agreed to your shenanigans but only if you make her her favourite leche flan. Originally, you wanted Cassie to be the one to get too chummy with, but you decided against it because almost everyone in the ED knew that you had some kind of relationship with each other and didn't want more rumours to implode but also you didn’t want yourself to get too close to her. Afraid to find yourself hoping once again.

A patient needed an immediate surgery consult so of course, you and Emery went down to the pitt. The two of you didn’t even need to amp up your interactions, lingering down in the ED longer than usual is enough to catch Baran’s attention.

It’s a slow day, you could already tell since it’s already been six hours into the shift and only one ambulance has arrived. Emery also didn’t have a surgery scheduled until the 15th hour of the day, so the two of you can afford to linger around the central hub to have a quick chat with the nurses.

“Hey.” You stride in front of Princess, leaning over to see her charting. “How’s Javadi’s party going along?”

“It’s good. All that we need is to cook.” She replies without looking up at you and she immediately lifts her eyes to look up as soon as she hears the surgeon’s voice.

“Are you going to cook my favourite?” Emery stands close to you, her skin touching yours as the two of you rest your forearms up on the counter.

“I am actually.” She’s referring to the chicken inasal that you made for a late dinner years ago, and ever since then, it’s been her favourite food that you occasionally make for her.

Emery gives you an endearing smile that the ED hasn’t seen even though she’s been working here for as long as you have. “You know what they say, the way to a woman’s heart is through her stomach.” She playfully winks at you, walking away to go back upstairs.

Everyone who saw and heard her became stunned and momentarily paused to make sure if what they heard was correct or if they’re hallucinating from fatigue. You couldn’t hide the blush creeping up your neck, clearly flustered. You didn’t expect her to be so charming because you’re used to seeing her acting all tough and you’re the only one to ever experience her soft side in all of PTMC. If Emery Walsh does have any affection for you and decides to act on it, you wouldn’t be opposed to it.

(Un)fortunately for you, Baran watched the whole scene unfold before her eyes a few metres away while discussing Dr. King’s patient. She felt her eyes involuntarily twitch as the green-eyed monster started knocking on her door. She ends up dismissing Mel as fast as she can without making it seem that she’s acting strange.

Baran is supposed to check on the patient in central 10. Instead, she makes a beeline straight to you.

“It’s unprofessional to flirt with a co-worker during work hours. It diverts the attention away from the patient they’re supposed to be consulting.” Princess’ eyes slightly widen at the drama she’s watching in real time.

Amused, you turn your head to look at her. Her irises are hardened, staring directly at you. Her stare almost makes your knees give out, almost. “Emmy’s already gone up to surgery. I can pass your message to her.”

“Good.” You look at her for a second, trying your best not to make the corners of your lips lift up. You nod at her before walking away from the hub. 

You’re only a few steps away from the elevator, feeling a hand shoot out and grab your elbow. Causing you to halt your steps.

“Don’t play this game with me.” Baran whispers, you can feel her breath on your ear and her front pressed to your side. Apparently, she saw the small smirk you tried to hide while waltzing away. 

Her touch is electrifying, making your blood run hot as your body stiffens under her hand. Despite your whole figure begging for you to stop your mischief and to just give in to her, you keep up your act.

“I’m not.” 

You lightly pull back your elbow and walk into the elevator. Watching Baran slowly lose her composure as her gaze turns predatory, the doors are closing in as you see her chest slowly breathing up and down before the steel obstructs your view of each other. You take a deep breath, your hands tightly gripping the elevator’s handrails, holding yourself up due to your wobbly knees.

Back in the central hub, Princess is buzzing with excitement as she sees Baran stride back in like nothing happened. She can’t wait to tell Perlah about this. 

19:00

You pass by Trinity who’s on her way to clock out. There’s a huge, proud smile on her face that makes you wonder what she’s planning to do after her shift that has her all giddy like this. Nevertheless, you don’t dwell on that thought for long as you’re on your way to the breakroom where a good samaritan has ordered you all boxes upon boxes of pizza. 

By the time you get there, Emery is already inside with a folded slice in her hand, chatting away with Jack about the latest patient they had just wheeled up into pediatrics, awaiting surgery in the coming days. The man quickly stuffs some pizza in his mouth and downs a cup of coffee before greeting you and getting back into work just in case another trauma case arrives. 

“You enjoying yourself?” You comment as Emery has her feet up on the back of another chair. Sitting down on the chair next to her, you quickly grab yourself a slice of pepperoni. 

“Not really. It’d be better if you’re sitting on my lap.” Your eyes widened as you were about to take a bite but stop in midair. “We’re the only ones in here, you can stop the act.” You mumble out after finally taking a bite of real food.

“Baran might walk in.” Emery chortles at your blushing face, “Or are you too shy to continue digging the grave you dug for yourself.” You try to glare at her, but you look like a distraught little puppy in the surgeon’s eyes.

“Fine, fine. I need to go back up anyways.” She stands up, washing her hands on the sink. “Don’t forget about my favourite on sunday!” She reminds you while exiting the break room. 

You capitalise on the quietness of the breakroom, brewing yourself a tea to not have coffee jitters if Emery decides to bring you in with her to the OR. Only the sound of the spoon clinking against your ceramic mug fills the room, until the door opens.

Before you could turn around to see who it is, a warm pair of hands settle on the dips of your waist, gently cascading downwards to your hips and gripping it lightly. 

“Is there something I should know about you and Emery?” Her whisper sends a shiver down your spine, her breath warm against the back of your neck.

“Baran,” You start, feeling breathless. “Anyone could see us.” She rests her chin on your shoulder, her curls tickling your skin.

“So? Let them. Let them see that you’re mine and not that cocky surgeon’s.” Baran releases a sigh of relief as soon as she gets the whiff of your perfume, feeling herself relax as she fully wraps her arms around you.

“If Princess or Perlah comes in, we’re screwed.” She lets out a chuckle before letting go of you, pouting. You step away from the sink, going back to your chair to grab another slice.

“Are you coming over to Princess’ place on sunday for Javadi’s birthday party?” You ask her as she also makes herself tea.

“Are you going to be there?” She turns around, leaning against the counter with her hands inside her scrub’s pockets. She ditched her jacket off somewhere, giving you a fantastic view of her toned arms.

“Of course I am. They have me on barbecue duty. I’ve already bought some beer as well.” Baran hums in thought, watching you eat pizza like it’s the only proper food you’ve had all day, which it is. 

“I’ll give you a ride then.”

“No, I’ll take an uber. They’re already suspecting us with something, I don’t want more rumours.” You mumble but Baran hears you nonetheless. 

“Fine. But if you’re too drunk, I’m taking you home.”

“Yes ma’am.” The way you playfully saluted her makes her laugh. It makes you smile, knowing that she’s been on edge all day, especially since she’s still getting weird looks and opinions from your other co-workers who are not used to the change and innovation that she brings.

You stand up after finishing your fifth slice and tea, standing next to her while washing your hands on the sink. Just before you walk away to go back to work, her hand on your wrist stops you.

“By the way, I still haven’t forgotten your little games with Walsh.” Her voice is low, reminding you of your place. You swallow as she lets go of her grip on you.

As soon as you exit the break room, you inhale deeply. Trying your best to ignore the sudden rush of heat down in your core.

JULY 12 - 21:38

You’re thankful that Princess lives in a neighbourhood that’s pretty much filled with Filipinos so they will most likely not call the cops for noise complaints after giving them tupperwares of food. You’re still barbecuing some isaw in courtesy of Mark from cardiology and pork while everyone else is mingling with each other.

Almost everyone from the ED is here along with the surgeons, Mel’s sister, and Harrison who’s playing around with the kids of your colleagues. But those who brought their kids went home early since the party had roughly started at around 15:00 and that unfortunately included Cassie and her son. 

Of course Princess and Perlah decided to throw a Filipino style party for Javadi as it lets everyone have a good time and eat some good food. The videoke is already in use with auntie Jen belting out Aegis songs. Surprisingly, the videoke machine that they rented has the english translation of the songs in a different language in a smaller text so everyone could understand whatever the song lyrics are about.

When mostly the people from the pitt and the other Filipino workers are the only ones left, they finally brought out the cooler filled with beer and liquor. Andrew and Mark were the ones to mix the gin-bilog using a strawberry flavoured powdered juice. Almost everyone’s eyes widened when they took the lighter out and lit the liquid on fire for a couple of seconds to get rid of the strong, alcohol taste. 

This whole time, you and Baran only shared a few glances with each other as well as occasionally dabbling in some small talk because if something were to happen here, it would spread like wildfire throughout the whole PTMC overnight. 

The plastic table is filled with ridiculous amounts of food and several bottles of red horse and san mig lights. Someone had lit up a mosquito coil somewhere, reminding you of your high school days back in the Philippines where you had drunk your first shot. Dana is currently smoking a cigarette in the corner, your mouth salivating at the smell and you’re tempted to ask her for one but you already know that Baran would scold you if you did and Trinity seems to be in her element, teasing Dennis and Victoria about god knows what with a bottle of beer in hand.

You laugh loudly as Mark, the one from ICU, punches in the numbers for Banyo Queen. It’s painfully obvious that most of the Filipinos are already drunk, including you. By the fourth verse, you and JM are yelling the lyrics to the mic that Mark is holding out. Dennis is confused as to why you’re all having too much fun and it’s Princess who explains to him that the song is about having a one night stand and it’s Trinity who sees his face turn completely red when the song suddenly reaches the part where there’s a woman moaning. 

Perlah shakes her head with a smile, seeing your flushed face laughing hard as Jane punches in another jejemon song. By the time that there’s already a few heads on the table, knocked out by the alcohol, Trinity steps up to the mic and everyone cheers her on. She bravely chooses Love by Keyshia Cole and needless to say, everyone was shocked to hear her voice. She playfully bows after singing and hands you the mic since you’re the one who’s flipping through the binder filled with songs. 

Across the table, you make eye contact with Baran who’s slumped against her plastic chair with her arms crossed on her chest. She looks at you through her lashes making your heart skip a beat. A smile crawled its way to your face when you’ve finally found the song that you’re looking for.

The Filipinos who are still awake hoots and hollers and the rest cheers you on, never expecting you to sing since you’re known to be quiet at work. 

“Para kanino kaya ‘yan?!”

“Nako in-love si bading!”

The mic picks up your laughter as they yell before you start singing the song. The ones who are stationed at the pitt and are in on the bet are a little bit stunned, their mouths slightly open, getting the giddy feeling of seeing someone in-love as they realise what the song is about.

“Ako’y alipin mo kahit hindi batid. Aamin ko minsan ako’y manhid…”

Baran can feel her face heat up as she tries her best to hide her smile when suddenly everyone’s looking back and forth between you and her. And as the song reaches its final seconds, you lock eyes with her.

“Nais ko sanang iparating na ikaw lamang ang siyang aking iibigin~”

FEBRUARY 14 - 09:00

It’s valentine’s day and much to everyone’s dismay, there’s an influx of men who had priapism that wanted to do something special for their girlfriends, boyfriends, wives, or husbands as well as people having things stuck up their rectum such as interestingly shaped vases, shampoo bottles, and dildos of any size and colour.

You’re thankful that you don’t have to see a man’s erect penis but that sounds better than removing random objects up people’s asses. It’s only two hours into your shift yet there’s already three people admitted in who are shy to admit that they’re trying something daring for once.

Both you and Yolanda could have never guessed what’s in this man’s bum when you’ve received his x-ray. 

“Is that a spiderman action figure?” Yolanda’s pitch goes up, her forehead wrinkling as she can not believe what she’s seeing on the tablet that you’re holding.

“Yep. Look at the hand. It’s shooting spiderwebs.” You point to where the figurine’s middle and ring finger are folded in.

Yolanda sighs. “What the fuck are these people thinking.” You can only shrug at her as you hop on the elevator to go back down to the pitt to deliver this poor man his unfortunate news.

Just as you exited north five after telling spiderman that he needs to be anaesthetised to remove the action figure, you slump over the north’s nursing station. Placing your forehead down on the counter before closing your eyes for a few seconds.

A palm is suddenly placed on your upper back then they drag their hand down lower to the small of your back. Shivers immediately went up your spine as you jumped at the touch with goosebumps erupting all over your body.

“Are you tired?” Her soft voice that is only reserved for you acts like a soothing balm to your ears.

When you lift your head up to look at her, a smug smile is playing on her lips. A contrast to her sweet tone from earlier. Your eyes then travel down to the gold necklace hanging around her neck, shining in the ED’s harsh white lights.

The necklace is catching the droplets of sweat that’s running down the side of her neck. Baran is looking up at you, admiring your figure that is perched on top of her lap while her back is resting against the headboard. Her hands are wandering around your body, memorising the way your soft skin feels under her fingertips. 

“So pretty, joon-am.” She whispers to herself while your arms are wrapped around her neck, fingers playing with her curls. 

She squeezes your hips before dragging her hands back up to your-

“Are you okay?” 

Her voice snaps you out of your thoughts, cheeks immediately heating up as you remember last night’s escapades. You didn’t have to say anything to Baran for her to know where your mind had just went off to.

“Y-yes.” You stammer while you make sure that the chain of your necklace is still contained underneath your scrubs.

“I should go back to Garcia now.” You look down at the floor, unable to meet her eyes as you could feel your ears warm up.

Baran watches your hips sway as you walk further away from her, subconsciously biting her lips as she unashamedly checks you out.

14:00

Yolanda decides to walk around the ED first before going back up to the fourth floor. Saying something about estimating how many priapisms are on the beds to win Ahmad’s betting board. So, you decide to have a quick snack at the break room before she drags you back with her.

You’re perusing through the fridge, trying to find the tupperware filled with banana cue when a hand smacks you lightly on your behind. You yelp, causing you to stand up straight as the skin feels more sensitive than usual.

“Can I have some?” Baran asks with a small pout as you clutch the plastic tub close to your chest. “Of course.” She takes the tupperware out of your hands and grabs two forks before sitting down on one of the chairs.

Silently, you sit next to her. Her hand is holding out the fork and your fingers touch when you reach for it.

“Ah, fuck-” You cant contain your moans in anymore and Baran smirks while she’s in between your legs.

Her tongue flicks at your sensitive nub sideways as her fingers pump in and out of you, your walls slick as the sounds of your wetness accompanies your whimpers. You ignore the way your hands hurt as you’re tightly gripping the sheets. Baran hums as she watches your face contort in pleasure.

“These are good.” She comments as she chews on the food. You only stare at her in silence, making her glance at you.

She takes a small piece of the banana and holds it out inches away from your mouth. “Here.” Your eyes flicker over to her dark irises before letting her feed you the sugar coated banana. 

17:00

You’re silently praising god as your shift nears the end. Your body feels like it’s about to give up because you haven't been able to sit down for five hours straight. 

The exasperated sigh you released causes Robby and Dana to look at you and you shoot them an apologetic look.

“We now have a collection of dildos and phallic shaped objects. We’re about to get another one.” You point at the tablet showing the xray of something that looks like a candlestick. 

“At least we’re clocking out soon.” Baran suddenly arrives behind you, startling you a little bit.

Princess who also just stepped into the central hub appears next to you. “Do you have a date Dr. Al?”

“I do.” Baran grins with a lovestruck look in her eyes.

“Good for you. I only have a bottle of wine to keep me company later.” The Filipina nurse speaks as she strides in right next to Dana.

You’re leaning into the counter, elbows out when you feel her hand drift down lower than usual. She grips your behind discreetly before moving her hand up, rubbing the side of your hip with her thumb. Once again you turn your head to look at her, seeing some of her curls had slipped out of the clip on the back.

Her hair cascades down like a curtain draping down your face. You take the hair tie on your wrist to quickly tie her hair up when you suddenly feel her entering you. Your breath hitches while staring up at her, red marks now littered across her chest and at the base of her neck.

She lets you adjust around her first before pulling out and slamming her hips into yours, effectively pushing your body up as you release a loud moan. 

“That feel good?” You can only nod at her as she quickens her pace. 

Baran takes your leg and hoists it up her waist, signalling you to wrap your legs around her so you could take her in deeper. Your left hand grips at her bicep meanwhile your right tightly claws at her back. You tilt your head back and your body arches when she hits that particular spot in you. She takes the opportunity to bite at the skin you’ve presented to her, licking and sucking marks that will take days for it to disappear.

“Mahal, please, I”- 

You’d drowned out the conversation as you only focused back to reality when Baran had pinched your side. Thankfully, you heard the question that Dana asks.

“How about you, Hon. Got someone waiting for you?” Your hand immediately goes up to play with the chain hidden behind your scrubs and Princess notices it. Seeing the silver peek out and glint.

“Mhmm, I’m planning on cooking something special.” Dana smiles at your answer. 

“Well, whoever’s waiting for you at home is a lucky person.”

19:33

Emery had you double check the schedule of the operating rooms before letting you go. Thankfully as you reached the main entrance of PTMC, Baran had just gotten there. She had already taken the clip out of her hair, letting her curls dance around freely with the wind and she had her jacket neatly folded and draped over her arm.

“You ready?” You ask her as the two of you stand near the doors. Her eyes then widen slightly, she’s forgotten something.

“I forgot something in the locker. You can go ahead, I’ll catch up.”

They’re already talking about the weirdest things they’ve seen today and Dennis is sitting on top of the cooler. As soon as he sees you, he stands up and tosses you a cold one. You quickly thank him before cracking the can open. 

Jesse scoots so you could sit down on the bench next to him but you instead sit sideways on the bench’s arm. While wiping the droplets of beer that had spilled out of your lips with the back of your hand, the conversation topic of the group suddenly becomes about you.

“Who’s your date?” Princess is the one who asks since she’s the one who heard you back at the hub.

“She should be here in a bit.” You answer while looking down at your watch.

Trinity points at you. “So who is it? Walsh or Al-Hashimi?” Robby raises his eyebrows in confusion as Abbott next to him smiles.

You try your best to not make any reactions as you only stare back at Trinity. “Come on, this bet has gone on way too long.” She groans and the others agree with her.

“I won the bet.” Baran casually strides in beside you. Now with a bouquet of roses in her hands.

You turn your attention to her. “You joined them?”

“Yep.”

The group suddenly falls into chaos as Princess and Perlah cheer while Trinity and Jack groans out loud, letting their frustrations be known. Meanwhile Dennis could only watch them fall apart as he didn’t know that there was a bet until now.

While they’re complaining and bragging to each other, Baran interlocks your fingers together, making you stand up next to her.

“Oh! Before I forget.” You reach into your bag and give them each a cream coloured envelope.

The Filipinas immediately rip it open, “You’re getting married?” Princess gasps and you laugh at everyone’s shocked faces.

Instead of verbally telling them something, you instead hold out your left hand where the ring that was hanging around your neck earlier is now seen.

“Now if you could excuse us, we still have a date planned for tonight.” 

ENGLISH TRANSLATION

JULY 1 - 20:49

Princess: How are you and doc cool?

Salazar: I ended it. I might fall for her for nothing.

Perlah: She really doesn’t want to?

Salazar: She said she’s not ready to be in a relationship yet.

Princess: But when it comes to sex, she’s ready?

Salazar: That’s a different conversation.

Perlah: It’s good that you ended it. You’ll be only wasting time for her.

Princess: That’s right, you’re way too pretty for that.

Salazar: You’re just flattering me.

Princess: Huy, it’s the truth.

Princess: Do you think Robby will really last three months in his sabbatical?

Perlah: Why not?

Princess: I hope the new attending covering for Robby isn’t strict.

Salazar: I hope so. Jesus. Life’s hard in the ER already and you’re adding an asshole.

Princess: I bet you after one month he’ll be back

JULY 4 - 10:00

Princess: What did you and doc cool talk about?

Song (roughly translates to): When you’re heart is beating, you’re in trouble, you’re caught

Salazar: Ay caught you!

Perlah: Keep your eye on doc beautiful, she’s eyeing our baby.

JULY 10 - 08:00

Trinity: Well how’d y’know, my palm’s itchy.  Filipinos have this superstition where if your hands are itchy, you’re about to get some money.

Perlah: Cocky.

JULY 12 - 21:38

Mark from cardiology: Who’s that for?!

Mark from ICU: Oh no the gay is in-love!