ames

hi beautiful,

my name is Amelia and I am a senior based in South Africa. I've always had a soft spot for age-gap and forbidden romances and have used writing them as an escape from reality. I am new to writing about Noah Wyle and as such his characters. I have a soft spot for the misunderstood characters [see tony stark, negan smith and subsequently robby robinavitch]. I love writing internally complex characters who struggle, especially when it comes to romantic feelings.

I am beyond excited to have you here, and I can't wait to interact with you all.

Lots of love,

- Lia

Main blog || F1 fanfiction blog

[PS. Requests are open!]

⋆ 𝔰𝔞𝔶 𝔡𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔤𝔬

⋆ 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔬𝔫𝔩𝔶 𝔢𝔵𝔠𝔢𝔭𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 {4 part series}

⋆ 𝔯𝔢𝔤𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔶𝔬𝔲

⋆ 𝔟𝔲𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤

⋆ 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔭𝔶

⋆ 𝔤𝔲𝔦𝔩𝔱𝔶 𝔞𝔰 𝔰𝔦𝔫 {4 part series}

⋆ 𝔡𝔞𝔡𝔡𝔶𝔰 𝔤𝔦𝔯𝔩

⋆ 𝔟𝔲𝔯𝔫𝔱 𝔠𝔡𝔰

He’d disappeared into his bedroom while you still moved through his living room, the one with shelves of books and records, polished wood and that big brown couch. It looked so comfy. 

He’d come back handing you a green shirt you recognized as the one he would sometimes wear under his scrubs. He’d given you a pair of sweatpants as well, worn in grey fabric, with the explanation that he hoped it would fit because of the draw string waist.

You tried fighting him at first when he said you ought to shower, saying he had been in the rain longer and he should first. Yet he’d given you that stern look, saying his immune system could handle it, what else was a doctor good for? 

You’d given in  eventually and disappeared down his hallway to the shower in his ensuite bathroom, after he’d told you where to find it. He had sworn at himself then, fisting his hands over and over because what the fuck was he doing. Giving you clothes, saving you in the middle of the night, calling you angel. Fuck! He had called you angel. It came out so easily, like it was a natural thing to call you. 

What was he thinking? Was he that pathetic that a twenty-something-year-old had him head over heels like he was a fucken teenager. He had brought you home. He didn’t know what to do in that moment but now he’d wished he had taken you to one of your friends, or at the very least to your own house. At least then he wouldn’t have to see what you’d look like in his clothes. But his first selfish thought had been him.  

He hated himself. He hated how he let it happen. He hated how it had happened so easily. But most of all he hated that he didn’t deserve you. Because you were precious, you were the one thing that made him a better man than he was. He hated how he wouldn’t let himself have you. He hated how he had to be the responsible one. He hated that you had made him feel things he never thought he’d feel. He hated every thought he’d ever had about you. He hated it all. 

Except you. 

No, you were the one thing he could never hate, because you weren’t the type of person one could hate. No, there was something special about you. Something that broke down every wall he’d ever built. Something that gave him hope for the first time in a long time. You were someone who had him thinking about settling down, you were someone who made him think about a future. You made him think he knew what love-

No! No. No, he didn't love you. He couldn’t love you. That was insane! He was just lonely, that’s why he was thinking these things. 

But then that voice in his head, the one he listened to daily at work, the one that was never wrong whispered a truth he couldn’t deny. Because if that were the case,the girls he rotated through would have fixed that feeling.

He stood there, now in his kitchen, his heart beating faster than it had in weeks. Robby braced his hands against the kitchen counter and closed his eyes for a second.

He was too old to be acting like this. Too old to be pacing around his apartment because a girl was in his shower and going to be wearing his clothes. Too old for his chest to feel tight every time he pictured your tear-stained face looking at him like he’d hung the moon just because he came to pick you up.

Christ.

The bedroom door clicked open down the hallway. His entire body went still. Soft footsteps padded against the floorboards and before he could stop himself he looked up. And there you were.

His shirt swallowed you whole, one side slipping loose enough that it exposed the slope of your collarbone. The grey sweatpants hung low on your hips despite the tie being pulled tight, the hems bunched around your ankles. Your damp hair framed your face in messy waves and your cheeks were still pink from the heat of the shower.

You looked warm. Safe. Like you belonged there. That thought hit him so hard he actually looked away first. “Are you hungry?” he asked roughly, clearing his throat as he turned back toward the stove. 

You’d said you’d cooked for Daniel before he came home, and broke your heart. He wondered if you’d eaten, and thought what he might make you if you hadn’t. 

“A little.” Your voice was smaller now. Exhaustion creeping in now that the adrenaline had started wearing off.

He smiled and nodded. “Sit, I'll make you something” 

You listened immediately, climbing onto one of the stools by the kitchen island while he moved around the kitchen in practiced motions. He pulled out a pan, and immediately buttered bread before pulling out the cheese he’d grated the night before when he had energy and thought he’d make himself mac ‘n cheese, before he’d gotten sick at the idea of food. It was domestic the way he moved around the kitchen, turning on the kettle, to make tea.  

The realization made his stomach twist.

You watched him quietly for a moment before speaking. “You always do this, it’s one of my favourite things about you.”

He glanced over his shoulder, as he placed the buttered bread on the hot pan, the sizzling light but not unnoticed. “Do what?”

You were quiet for a while just enough for him to flip the bread once. “Take care of people like it’s breathing.”

Robby huffed softly, shaking his head. Moving to put the  now cooked perfectly grilled cheese down on a plate before sliding it toward you. “Comes with the job.”

“No,” you said quietly. “I think it’s just who you are.” That damn look was back in your eyes again. The one that made him feel seen in ways he wasn’t prepared for.

Robby leaned back against the counter across from you, not before he put a grilled cheese on for himself, arms folding over his chest like some pathetic attempt at distance. But it didn’t help. Not when you were sitting there in his clothes, looking softer than he’d ever seen you.

You took a couple bites before your eyes started drooping slightly. “Tired?” he asked.

You nodded sheepishly. “Sorry. I didn’t realize how exhausted I was.”

“Long night.” Your lips twitched faintly at that. Silence settled comfortably for a moment, broken only by rain against the windows and the occasional sip of your tea. The one he’d made perfectly, without even having to ask. “Thank you for coming to get me.”

Robby’s chest tightened. “Ain’t gotta thank me for that.”

Your eyes lifted to his. And there it was again. That look. Except now he finally understood what terrified him about it. It wasn't a curiosity. It wasn’t admiration. It was trust. Pure, devastating trust. Like somewhere along the line you had decided he was safe.

Robby looked down immediately, dragging a hand across the back of his neck. “You can take my bed tonight,” he muttered. “I’ll sleep out here.”

Your brows pulled together instantly. “Robby, no.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s your bed.”

“And you’ve had a shitty night.”

You opened your mouth to argue again before stopping suddenly, your expression softening. “You’d really sleep on the couch for me?”

He almost laughed at the question because if you knew the things he would do for you, it would probably scare you. Instead he just shrugged lightly. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve slept somewhere uncomfortable.” Your eyes lingered on him too long. And Robby had to turn away before he did something reckless like walk over there and touch you again.

He took his grilled cheese off the pan and cut it in half before finally sitting down across from you. The apartment had gone quiet now, the kind of quiet that only happened late at night. Rain tapping against the windows, the hum of the fridge, the occasional hiss from the radiator in the corner.

You looked smaller somehow sitting there in his clothes. Not weak. Just soft. Untouched by the sharpness the world kept trying to force onto you.

Robby forced himself to focus on his food instead of the way your fingers curled around the warm mug of tea. Instead of the way your damp hair kept falling in front of your eyes. Instead of the fact you looked more at home in his kitchen than any woman ever had.

“You make a really good grilled cheese,” you mumbled after another bite.

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth despite himself. “It’s bread and cheese, angel.” You’d shrugged at the reply, but there it was again.

Angel. Slipped out so naturally now that he barely caught it before it was too late. Your eyes lifted at the word, softening in a way that made his pulse stumble. Fuck. Robby cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair slightly, dragging a hand over his jaw.

“You should get some sleep.” You nodded, but made no move to stand. Instead your gaze wandered around the apartment quietly, taking things in.

It wasn’t a particularly exciting place. Exposed brick. Old hardwood floors. A couple plants he kept forgetting to water. Medical journals stacked beside motorcycle magazines. Framed photos scattered around the shelves. Your eyes landed on one of them, pointing it out. “You kept this?”

Robby looked over. It was an old polaroid from years ago. One of those weekends out in the country. Your dad had his arm around your mother, Jack flipping off the camera while laughing, and in the corner you sat wrapped in a blanket beside a bonfire, looking annoyed that someone had taken the picture.

His stomach tightened immediately. “Forgot that was there,” he muttered. But that was a lie. He knew exactly where that photo was. You smiled faintly at it before looking back at him.

“You always looked after me, you know.” Robby’s chest went painfully tight. “You still do.” The words hung between you. Dangerous. Because the way you said it didn’t sound childish. Didn’t sound familial. It sounded aware.

Robby set his plate down carefully. “You should sleep,” he said again, quieter this time. But you kept looking at him. And suddenly he understood something horrifying. You weren’t oblivious.

Maybe you didn’t know the full extent of it. Maybe you didn’t realize how often he thought about you, or how guilty it made him feel, or how badly he wanted to touch you right now. But you knew something had changed between you.

His heartbeat thudded heavily against his ribs. “Why did you stop coming around?” There it was. The question he’d been dreading for months. Robby looked down at his hands immediately, rough fingers flexing once against the edge of the plate.

“I got busy.”

“That’s not true.”

His jaw tightened. You stood then slowly, carrying your mug to the sink before turning back toward him. The oversized shirt shifted against your thighs as you leaned lightly against the counter across from him.

“Used to see you once a week at minimum,” you said quietly. “Then suddenly it was weeks before seeing you.”

Christ.

“You stopped coming to the BBQs.”

He stayed silent.

“And when you do, you barely look at my way.”

That one hit hardest because it was true. Not because he didn’t want to. Because he wanted too much. Robby pushed a hand through his greying hair and stood abruptly, needing movement, distance, air, something.

“You should get some sleep, sweetheart.”

Your breath caught softly at the new pet name. And that was exactly why he shouldn’t have said it. You didn’t fight him then, instead you followed him to his bedroom, and he told you where to find things if need be, and that he’d be in the living room if you needed him. 

He made a move to leave when you put your hand on his chest to stop him. “You know I can see right through you” you whispered and he swallowed, pretending to be confused. “I’ve seen the way you look at me, the way you distanced yourself after I flirted with you.”

Robby went completely still beneath your hand. It wasn’t a hard touch. If anything it was gentle, your palm warm against the centre of his chest through the thin fabric of his Henley he’d changed into before sending you to the shower.. But it felt like a gunshot all the same. Because you were touching him like you knew what it did to him.

And maybe you did. 

His eyes dropped to your hand for a second before lifting back to your face. You stood so close he could see every detail now. Damp lashes. Flushed cheeks. The faint crease between your brows when you were nervous.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lied quietly.

Your expression softened in a way that told him the lie was almost insulting. “You’re a terrible liar.”

A breath left him through his nose, humorless. Your fingers curled slightly against his chest, like you were grounding yourself before speaking again.

“I flirted with you because I wanted to see if I was imagining it,” you admitted softly. “That day by my car.”

Robby’s stomach dropped. Christ. You remembered that.“I thought maybe I was crazy,” you continued, voice barely above a whisper now. “But then you started avoiding me.”

He looked away immediately, jaw flexing hard enough to ache. Because there it was. The truth standing right in front of him asking to be acknowledged.

“I was trying to do the right thing,” he said finally.

Your face shifted slightly at that. Not hurt exactly. Just understanding. “And what’s the right thing?”

He laughed once under his breath, exhausted and rough around the edges. “Definitely not this.”

Your eyes searched his face carefully. “You think this is bad?”

“I think,” he started, then stopped himself, dragging a hand down his jaw. “I think your father would kill me.”

That finally pulled the smallest smile from you. “He loves you.”

“That’s the problem.” Silence stretched between you again, thick and dangerous.

Robby could feel the heat from your body standing this close. Could smell his soap on your skin now mixed with something sweeter that was entirely you. And every instinct in him screamed to step back.

Instead he stood there letting you look at him too long. “You know what hurts the most?” you asked quietly. His brows furrowed slightly. “I thought I imagined it because of the age difference.” 

Your eyes dropped briefly to his chest before lifting again. “I thought there was no way someone like you could ever look at me like that.”

Something in his chest cracked painfully at those words. Someone like you. You said it like he was something good. Robby’s voice came out rougher than intended. “Angel…”

“You did though,” you whispered. It wasn’t accusatory. That was the worst part. It sounded hopeful, and that hope terrified him more than anything else tonight. Because he knew if he reached for you right now, even once, he wouldn’t stop wanting to.

“I don’t expect anything from you, Robby. I’m probably the worst person in the world for thinking about you while in a relationship with someone else. Granted that didn’t work out well.” You sighed.

“You aren’t a bad person” He said fast, almost too fast. Your eyes snapped up to him immediately, something fragile flickering across your face.

“A couple times… different girls,” he admitted quietly, shame sitting heavy in his chest. “I kept thinking if I got it outta my system it would stop.”

The second the words left his mouth he regretted them. Because your expression fell in that tiny way people tried to hide when something hurt them unexpectedly. Robby swore under his breath. “Christ, angel…”

“No,” you said softly, shaking your head before he could apologize. “I get it.” But he didn’t think you did, because there was nothing casual about the way he’d thought about you. Nothing shallow about the guilt that had eaten him alive every single morning after.

His jaw flexed hard. “They weren’t you.” The room went still. Robby closed his eyes for half a second like maybe he could shove the words back into his mouth. But it was too late now. They hung there between you, raw and irreversible.

When he looked back at you your breathing had changed slightly. “Robby…”

“I’m trying real hard here,” he admitted, voice rough enough to scrape. “You gotta understand that.”

Your hand was still against his chest. He could feel the warmth of it through the thin fabric, could feel how close you were, and it was killing him slowly.

“You think this has been easy for me?” you whispered. That pulled his eyes back to yours immediately. You look nervous now. Vulnerable in a way he’d never seen before. “I’ve had a crush on you since that first weekend away when I was nineteen.”

His heartbeat stopped. Actually stopped. Robby stared at you like he’d misheard.

“You were kind to me,” you continued softly, eyes dropping for a moment before lifting again. “You listened to me like what I said mattered. You remembered things about me. You made me feel…” You swallowed. “Safe.”

That word again. Safe. And suddenly he understood why this felt so impossible to walk away from. Because somewhere along the line, without either of you meaning to, you had become that for each other.

Robby’s hand came up before he could think better of it, rough knuckles brushing lightly along your jaw like he needed to make sure you were real.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he murmured.

Your breath caught softly and neither of you moved. The tension between you had become unbearable now. Not loud. Not frantic. Worse. Quiet. Heavy. Intimate enough that even breathing felt dangerous.

Then your fingers tightened slightly against his chest. And Robby broke, not completely. Just enough. His forehead dropped against yours with a low exhale, eyes shutting hard as if he was physically restraining himself.

“Fuck,” he whispered shakily. “This is such a bad idea.”

“It is” You say, before pushing onto your tiptoes, your arms snaking around his shoulders. “But one that would be worth it” You whisper. 

Robby didn’t move for a second. He just stood there with his forehead against yours, breathing uneven, like he was trying to hold himself together by force alone. Your arms were around him now, real and steady, and that alone felt like something he had no business getting used to.

His hands hovered for a moment, uncertain, torn between pulling away and pulling you closer. Something in him shifted, subtle, irreversible. Like a lock finally giving way after months of pressure.

Robby exhaled sharply through his nose, almost like a laugh that never fully formed. “You’re going to be a problem.”

“I think I already am,” you whispered.

His eyes opened then. Up close, there was nowhere to hide. Not for him. Not for you. Every hesitation, every line he’d drawn and redrawn in his mind, it all blurred at the edges now.

His other hand finally came up, slow, deliberate, like he was giving himself every last chance to stop. Fingers brushing your cheek first, testing the moment like it might disappear.

You didn’t flinch. His hand slid properly into place at your jaw, thumb resting there like he already knew exactly how you fit there. Like he’d known for longer than he wanted to admit.

When he finally kissed you, it wasn’t careless. It was controlled in the way something is when it’s been held back for too long. Careful at first, like he was still asking a question he was afraid to hear the answer to.

But you answered anyway. And that was what undid him. His grip tightened slightly at your jaw, then softened immediately as if he’d scared himself with the intensity of it. The restraint he’d been holding onto didn’t vanish, it just stopped being enough.

When he pulled back, it was only barely. Foreheads still touching. Lips still close enough that neither of you could pretend it hadn’t happened. Robby closed his eyes again. A quiet, strained breath left him.

“Stay with me.” you whispered. “Don’t sleep on the couch” You told him and he nodded. 

“You won’t have to tell me twice,” he said, kissing you again, pushing you lightly on the bed. All the feelings he’d been pushing away for so long came rushing back, and instead of ignoring them, he let them stay. He let them plant their seeds and the love in his heart bloom, because for the first time in a long time, he felt safe, and at home, in someone's arms. 

Not just someone's but yours. 

The girl who he’d wanted more than anything he’d ever wanted in his life, the girl who he saw the rest of his life planned out in her eyes. The girl who he finally let his guards down for. The only girl he ever welcomed into his life with open arms, because even through the distance you were safe.

It had helped for the most part, but he could swear he kept seeing you in places you weren’t. He had spent extra hours at the ER after his shift, under the guise that he had paper work and wanting to help Jack. 

Yet the truth was he was afraid to go home to his thoughts. He had been filled with guilt, and when Jack had asked him if he was alright, that guilt had made him sick.

Most days he was able to make sense of his feelings. He’d come to accept over the past two months that it wasn’t just a physical attraction and lust that had you on his mind, but instead a curiosity and care for you. And it scared him more than he’d care to admit. Even in his 50s he was afraid of wanting to  let someone in. 

He’d eventually left work, later than he should have, late enough to feel it in his bones when he sat up to the ringing. He had fallen asleep on the couch in his living room, listening to the lullaby of the beginning of august rain, and he felt it in every muscle that ached. 

He could have sworn he was still dreaming when he’d seen your name on his phone screen. It wouldn’t be the first time a dream about you had started like that. But unlike his dreams he felt the weight of his body that signaled he was in the real world. 

His thoughts had flickered to the worst case scenarios first. Your parents were out of town for the week, having left the day before last for their 30th anniversary, and he knew you wouldn’t have called unless it was an emergency. 

It was why he picked up the phone immediately, sliding that green button up to answer. His eyes looking up at the clock on the wall, the hands nearing midnight. He’d said your name in that gruff voice, the one that gave away he’d been sleeping. Your voice fills his ears immediately, stress, worry, and perhaps a scared tone fraying at the edges. 

“Robby, oh my god. I’m sorry to wake you up, I just- My car broke down, and I’m far from home. And I don’t want to call Jake, he’s on a date for the first time since Leah, and I know Jack is working the night shift.” You spoke so fast he could barely keep up, adrenaline running through his own veins at the thought of you being stranded in the middle of nowhere, at an ungodly hour alone. 

“It’s raining, my battery is dying and- god- Daniel just-” Your voice broke into a cry and Robby was immediately on his feet. 

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay. Take a deep breath for me” He coos through the phone, grabbing the shoes he’d kicked off at the edge of the couch. He put the phone between his shoulder and his ear as he worked to tie them. “Where are you? What happened?” He asks, trying to focus on the practical things instead of the adrenaline running through his veins. 

The need to protect you pains him as he pulls on his heavy jacket as you tell him where you are. Worry hitting him when he finds it’s one of those dark wood lined roads coming from the rich suburbs of Pittsburg. “Lock the doors. Stay inside the car. I’m on my way. I’m coming angel, I’m coming” He tells you before the call goes dead,a beeping in his ear, your phone obviously dying. 

He grabs the keys to the car he only used in winter and occasionally on weekends when it was not just him, that old Ford F-100 he’d brought as a teenager that had stuck with him through everything. Pushing it to the limit, the inside smelling like gasoline, leather, cedar, and that old cologne, he’d accidentally spilt all over the carpet a couple months ago. 

The reality of the past couple months hits him all at once then, he’s running on barely no sleep and months of repressing his feelings. It's too late, you’re upset, emotionally drained, and he’s about to be alone with you for the first time since his feelings had surfaced, since he had lost his mind and tried pin-pointing the first time things had changed between the two of you. 

In the two months he’d avoided you he had thought about every interaction he’d ever had with you. And he’d come to the conclusion those thoughts about you had started the sunday night after your last birthday party. You had been hung over from the big party you’d thrown with your friends, yet you’d still made sure to come downstairs and greet your parents' friends. 

But mostly he blamed it on that moment outside the bathroom, when he was going to piss and you had just walked out, hair in a t-shirt, towel wrapped around you. . You had turned red, pushing past him with an apology, and your smell had gone straight to his head. That vanilla and floral mix that had his mind going hazy and making him wonder what brand of shower gel you’d used. 

It hadn’t been more than that, but it was 6 months past then and he could point out a million little interactions that he could blame on why he felt something for you. He had tried so hard not to name it, because once you named it you had to face it and he didn’t think he was strong enough to. 

Even then, not naming it doesn’t stop his heart from twisting angrily when he pulls onto that wood lined road, the rain angry against his windshield, and sees there’s a car stopped beside yours, their hazards blinking. He slows his truck to a stop in front of yours, yanking the handbrake up and jumping out faster than probably necessary. The other car has their window down and you're shouting at each other over the rain.

The minute you see Robby, he sees the way your  body softens. He greets the people in the other car who ask you if you’re fine, exchanging pleasantries with Robby, before they drive away. He leans down to your window. Asking what had happened, and when you tell him, voice hoarse, tears flowing down your cheeks, he knew it was the same thing that they’d replaced in the first month of summer. Your dad and him. 

“Okay! Listen to me, grab what you need, go climb in my truck. The tow truck is already on their way.” He tells you, stepping back enough to let you close the window and grab what you need. When you step out of the car he takes you in for the first time. You’re in a slightly oversized Durango Mexico Souvenir Tee, one he’s sure you got during your gap year. 

The shirt and your hair are sopping wet, and sticking to your body like a second skin, showing those denim shorts, the same one you wore that day before he noticed that things changed.

You held your bag close as you ran through the rain to his truck, climbing in. He grabbed a couple ropes from behind his truck seat before he started putting them on your car, the tow truck arriving a couple minutes later. It takes fifteen minutes till the tow truck is driving away your car on the back and Robby is running, soaked through by the rain back to his truck. He climbs in the drivers side and slams his truck door closed. 

He looks at your face that tells a million stories. There’s dried tear streaks on your face, and your hair is wild and frizzy. “I’m sorry” you breathe and he softens. 

Before he can think he’s grabbing you and pulling you into a hug, and immediately you start crying again. Your arms wrap around him, and he holds you tighter, tucking your head under his chin. 

“Hey, It’s okay. I’m here. I’m here, angel” He shushes his hand rubbing your damp back. “What happened? Are you okay?” He asks, letting himself kiss your forehead. 

You look at him in his eyes and soften. “He never used to be so mean” you say and it catches him off guard. “He used to be my best friend. He loved me. We did everything together, he was the first person who ever seemed to cared about me” You tell Robby and he puts two and two together. 

Jackson had lived in the Suburb you were driving away from, the one with pretentious wanna be house wives and men with fancy cars they didn’t know how to drive.

“I tried, I tried to figure him out, why he’d changed. And he didn’t let me in. I haven’t- we haven’t seen each other in a month. And I thought I’d surprise him, make dinner, his parents are out of town. And then he came home. He-” you break again, letting a wrecked sound come out of you, and Robby’s immediately hugging you again. 

“Why her? Am I not good enough? Why can’t anyone love me?” Your voice broke on the last sentence, and Robby felt something ugly twist in his chest.  Anger. Not at you, never at you, but at the fact someone had managed to make you look at yourself like that. Like you were lacking something. Like you were hard to love.

He pulled back just enough to look at you properly, his large hands finding your face before he could stop himself. Warm palms cupping your damp cheeks, thumbs brushing beneath your eyes to wipe away tears that wouldn’t stop falling.

“Hey,” he said quietly, firmly. The kind of tone that demanded attention without ever raising itself. “Look at me.”

Your watery eyes lifted to him immediately, and that nearly ruined him. Rain battered against the truck roof, the heater humming softly between you, but all he could focus on was the way you looked sitting there. Heartbroken. Confused. Still trying to make sense for why someone would hurt you.

Robby swallowed hard, jaw tight. “Don’t you ever say that about yourself,” he said, voice rougher now. “You hear me?”

Your bottom lip trembled. “But he said-”

“I don’t give a damn what he did.” The words came sharper than he intended, and he softened instantly, thumbs stroking your cheeks again. “That boy cheating on you has nothing to do with whether you’re able to be loved. You are someone who deserves the highest honor of love.”

You stared at him silently. And Robby made the mistake of holding your gaze too long. Because suddenly all those thoughts he’d spent months trying to bury came rushing back at once. The curve of your smile. The sound of your laugh. The way you fit against him. The way he couldn’t walk away from you no matter how hard he tried.

His fingers flexed lightly against your skin. “Any man with half a brain would look at you and know exactly what he had,” he said quietly. “You are one of the most extraordinary women on this earth. You are kind, and smart, and brilliant, and angel, you are able to be loved. I can assure you of that fact. And knowing you doubt that breaks my heart.” 

The second the words left his mouth, the air changed. He felt it immediately. Your breathing hitched softly, your eyes widening just enough for him to notice. And Robby realized how intimate he looked right now. Leaned into your space. Holding your face like something precious. His face close enough to yours that he can feel your uneven breathing against his own lips.

And the way he looked at you, like you were his, like there was more meaning behind his words. Which if he was honest with both you and himself might have been true.

His hands dropped from your cheeks almost instantly, like he’d been burned, burnt himself with his thoughts. He leaned back against the seat hard, dragging a hand over his jaw as guilt crashed into him all over again. When he looked back at you, you were staring at your hands in your lap. “I don’t want to be alone tonight” you whisper and his heart breaks. 

He softens again and nods. “It’s okay angel” he says, wrapping an arm around you again, and pulling you towards him. “You want to stay with me tonight?” He asks and you nod into his chest. 

He knew it was dangerous, having you in his space, having you that close. But he didn’t care, because you needed him. You had called him, because you needed him, and he wasn’t about to change that for anything.

Because the truth was one he was finally starting to accept, he needed you too. 

Even when they’d joined the army and found themselves constantly fighting for their country, he’d still somehow kept in contact. Jack had left eventually, after he’d met his wife, and settled down to be a trauma attending. Your father however hadn’t. He’d been the type that found a woman in the military, and had a family with her. 

He was always moving base-to-base, country-to-country, continent-to-new continent. And being his daughter had you a part of that, an army brat being the informal term. You’d grown up in that constant  adapting highly transient lifestyle. Never having any constant in your life, except for the weekends in Nebraska, That once a year weekend your parents pulled you along for. 

Your parents, Abbot and his wife, and Robby with whatever girl he was seeing that week. The ones where you’d spend your time in your room, or by the fire reading books you probably shouldn’t have been so young. But that had changed around fourteen when you’d gone to boarding school, not caring to leave the comfort of your school for a random weekend with your parents' friends. 

Then you’d joined again last year, having left that high school boarding school and spending your nineteenth year of life travelling, a gap year. It hadn’t been planned, you’d just happened to be in Nebraska on your tour of the country you’d been born in but never felt connected to. It had worked out well because Robby was seeing Janey and they had brought Jake along. 

The two of you had immediately hit it off even with the two-year age gap between the two of you, and he’d become a constant in your life. Your best friend who you’d told everything to. Except maybe what you’d really thought of Robby. 

Those thoughts stemming from that weekend, specifically that night. Robby hadn’t talked to you much, not really beyond the normal polite questions. But then you’d somehow ended up alone, around the bonfire, after everyone had gone inside or to sleep. Neither of you being quite ready to leave the warmth of the fire. 

It had started polite enough, talking about you going to university the next year, thinking of seeing if Pittsburgh University was a good fit for your degree. And the more you talked, the less awkward it became. You’d spoken about the PTMC and somehow that had turned into the existence of god and people who didn’t practise what they preached. You would probably chalk it up to the story he’d told you about a pastor and his wife, and how he’d given her a disease he’d picked up from his mistress. 

And before you knew it, it was 2 am and you were laughing about university stories he shared and the dangerous and stupid shit your father, jack and himself had gotten up too. You’d shared your own, having been what could only be described as the resident trouble maker at your boarding school. 

You had connected with him in a natural way. The maturity he pulled out of you and the childishness you’d pulled out of him had been a mix of feelings that you’d never felt before. You’d surprised him with the lessons you’d learnt and the way you spoke had been like the dying fire beside the two of you, warm and safe. 

But it had been a single night and then you hadn’t spoken to him or seen him again past that weekend. Until your parents had decided to settle down and move to Pittsburgh. You’d been in the city a year by then, your first year of university over and done with. 

But with Robbys whole friend group in the same city again, monthly barbeques became a staple, the type your parents never let you skip. You hadn’t minded it too much. The boys always around the grill with drinks in their hands, the girls talking about whatever book they were all reading, while you sat by the pool talking. Your plus one always being Jake, that was until Robby and his mom had broken up and he had felt weird still being there.

It was around the same time you’d brought home your first real boyfriend. Danie lDean, a guy a couple years older than you, who looked like the cover of a magazine, with one of those faces Robby couldn’t help but want to punch. He didn’t like how Daniel had treated you, always dismissive, always bossing you around, never talking to anyone and worst of all,  making rude comments about you under the guise of joking.

Robby never found it funny, he’d mentioned it to Jack once, and they both agreed they weren’t sure how you’d ended up with a guy like that. The typical good for nothing rich boy who thought money brought him respect, when in reality it was the only reason anyone put up with him. 

Your father often confided in him and Jack about it. About how when you’d had your friday night pizza night pool parties with yours and Jake's friend group, he’d never attend and when he did he’d spent the entire time making rude comments about your body, to the point you always ended up pulling a t-shirt on and staying far away from the pool. 

Robby had never met someone with a stick so far up their ass in their lives and he’d met a few. It sort of came with the territory of working in an Emergency Room. And Robby had disliked him terribly after he’d ended up in the ER after a drunk driving incident, and had made inappropriate comments to Santos. She’d put him in his place obviously, always did, but Robby’s view had been changed after that. Especially when Daniel's attitude had changed upon realizing Robby was your dads friend.  

He’d mentioned that incident to you once at one of those lunches a month or two later, how Daniel had been in the ER, and you’d known nothing about it. Having been told his car needed repairs because someone skipped a traffic light. 

It had been about two months since then, since the last time he’d seen you, when your dad had phoned him asking him if he’d help him change a part in your car on a Saturday morning, when you’d come past to visit your mom, and with nothing better to do on his day off he had told him sure and they had set a time. 

They’d been out in the driveway for about an hour, having discovered it was a bigger problem than they had originally anticipated. Robby had pulled his jacket off and was forearms deep in the engine bay, when he’d heard the door in the garage open, and your voice filled his ears. 

“I brought you guys something to drink.” You said as you moved behind him in the garage obviously placing whatever you’d brought down. “Do you think it’ll be much longer?” You ask your dad moving to stand next to him. 

Your dad moves away from the engine bay and wraps an arm around your shoulders. “It was worse than I thought, it should be done this evening. I don’t think you’re going to be able to drive her today” Your dad told you. “I’m sure Robby wouldn’t mind dropping you at your apartment on his way home” Your father had told you and Robby had smiled to himself, at the way your father knew he’d do anything for him. 

You let out a sad sigh and Robby finally untwists the part they were trying to get out. He moves back and hands it to your dad, “I don’t mind at all.” He says the words dying on his tongue when his eyes land on you. His breath faltered for a second at the exposed skin. You were wearing a black bikini set with faded denim micro-shorts. “Sorry, kid” He tells you and you shrug. 

“It’s okay. Thanks though Robby. I was planning on going to the lake with my friends today. I’ll see if Jake can pick me up and drop me off.” You tell him, and he watches as your eyes study him. “Can I just spend the night here afterwards, go home in the morning?” You ask your dad, turning your head towards him.

Your dad starts saying something but your eyes don’t leave him, an indescribable look in your eyes, and a funny feeling he hadn’t felt in months starts sticking to his skin. 

The one that caused a hum under his skin, redness creeping up his neck. Your dad finishes telling you whatever he had been ending with how they needed to replace a part. Your eyes finally leave him as you say your thanks and turn to go back inside. 

He can’t help but look back at you when you do, your dad with his back turned taking a drink of the beers you’d brought out for them. He watches the way your hair moves against your open back, aside from that little string tied in a bow to keep it snug on your body. But then the door closes behind you he snaps his head back to the engine, his mind screaming at him. 

What the fuck was he thinking? You were his best friend's daughter. You were more than half his age. And he was checking you out as if you were just another girl. But why had you been studying him? And what was that look in your eye when you did? 

He shook his head and grabbed one of the beers and took a sip, before getting back to the engine. Your dad had joined him immediately after. 

It wasn't long after that, maybe fifteen minutes later, that a sleek blue BMW was pulling up to the curb beside your house. He knew the car, had seen it a couple times when your boyfriend had graced their barbeques with his presence. He hooted, and through the dark tint he saw Daniel pull out his phone. 

Your dad let out a deep sigh beside him. “Not even decent enough to come knock on the door” He added and Robby huffed. 

“Different time, I suppose” Robby replied, trying to turn his attention back to the mission at hand, but when you come running out the house, sunglasses on, hair in a messy pony, and a shirt over your bikini, it becomes a lost cause. 

“I’ll see you later, dad” You called to your dad. “Thanks again, Robby” You added, as you passed them, your totebag hitting against your hips each step you ran. 

You climb into the car and the ignition starts, and Daniel revs a couple times before driving out the parking and down the road. “She might be an adult but that doesn’t mean she knows how to make good decisions” Your father told Robby, that tone of disappointment in his voice. 

Robby just huffed, turning back to the engine bay, because he had agreed. He didn’t know you well enough to judge but from what your father had told him and Jack, you ignored all his red flags, one after the other. Daniel treated you like someone temporary, that’s how your father had described it. 

And Robby hadn’t understood it, because how could anyone look at you and not immediately think about keeping you safe, fed, loved, looked after. He shook his head again, pushing his thoughts away because they weren’t welcomed. They had that slippery slope flutter to them, the type that could be dangerous if he wasn’t careful. 

They eventually fixed what needed to be done on your car and by the time they got inside the sun was setting and your mom was making dinner. She had invited Robby to stay for food, the very least they could do after helping fix your car. 

And it had just been served when you walked into the house, a lightness to you that you hadn’t carried this morning. The kind that said the sun had worn you out in the best way. “Oh my god, that smells amazing!” You groaned walking into the kitchen, “Please tell me, there’s enough for us” you ask, turning fast to the dining table where Robby and your parents sat. 

“Yea, there should be enough left over” Your mom says and greets Daniel who is beside you on his phone. 

“Huh?” He says looking up, “Oh yeah, hey” he says towards the table before looking back down at his phone. The movement makes Robby's jaw tick because the lack of manners was offensive. You ask Daniel if he’d like some of the pasta and he scoffs.

“We already shared a pizza at lunch, do you really need more carbs?” he says to you, looking up from his phone for the first time unprovoked.

“I had a single piece, you ate the rest. I’m starving” You laughed, as though it was a joke. As though it wasn’t a rude comment he’d made. And Robby's hand tightened around the fork in his hand, anger finding itself in his veins. He watched you dish up a plate for yourself before coming to sit beside him, Daniel sinking into the seat at the head of the table. 

“Did you guys get my car sorted?” You ask, looking at Robby and your dad. You dad says yes, and tells you about it, and Robby can’t help but look just past you at Jackson. 

He didn’t even look up from his phone as you spoke, the conversation shifting to how you spent the day. You spoke about how you met this girl who had a boat and you were tubing on the lake with the boat. You were animated as you spoke, and he didn’t even look up, he didn’t even look the least bit interested in what you were saying. 

Robby, smiled while you recounted how there was a dog that stole a girls top while she was tanning and how her girlfriend and brother ran after it trying to get it back. He took the now empty plates to the sink and grabbed himself a new drink, casually, like he was a part of the furniture. In that way no one batted an eye at. He offers to grab you and Daniel something to drink and you accept and are about to tell him what you want, when he lifts up the can of your favourite drink without you having to say it. 

You thank him and nudge Jackson, who looks at you confused, confirming what Robby already knew. He wasn’t listening. You repeat the question to him and he shakes his head. “Nah, I’m gonna head out” he tells you standing. 

You follow him out to the front door, as Robby sits back down. And when you come back inside, that light feeling that had followed you the first time was gone, instead you sat back down and gave them all a sad smile. “Thank you” you said, picking up the can of cold drink and opening it. 

He winks back at you while he turns the conversation back to your parents who are talking about the next barbeque. But his head is elsewhere, on you. He thinks about what Daniel had said to you when you got food. About how he ignored everyone. He thinks about how you had gone quiet after you came back. He wondered why you put up with it. Why did you let it happen? 

And then a thought crossed his mind that had him immediately freeze. He thought how he would treat you if he was in Jackson's shoes. He shook his head, because why the hell had he thought that? Why had he been paying so much attention to him? He looks at you then as you add something to the conversation, something about the weather being good to swim. 

And his eyes trace you, from your bright eyes, to the dimples by your lips when you smile. He follows the curve of your neck to where it meets your shoulder, imagining water droplets racing down that skin, pooling by your collarbone. He thinks about what it would feel like to kiss the same spot that those water droplets pool. 

He stands immediately at it, almost as if it had scared him. Everyone looks at him confused. “Shit, sorry, I just, I forgot I’m supposed to feed my neighbours cat” He lied. 

Your dad laughed it off but he felt your eyes on him. The ones he feared would see right through him. So he makes quick, thanking your mother for dinner, promising to bring something to the next BBQ, making a joke with your dad as he gathers his stuff and gets ready to leave. 

You and your parents move with him outside, and he hugs each of them goodbye, and then he gets to you. He pulls you into that casual hug that anyone wouldn’t second guess, a normal goodbye. But the second you are pressed against him, he notices how perfectly you fit against him. 

He takes a breath as he pulls back in hopes to ground himself, instead the smell of you hits his head like a drug. It was slightly salty and fruity like sunscreen and icepops, but also warm like vanilla and cinnamon. 

He gives everyone a forced smile before grabbing his helmet and putting it on, starting his bike to warm up the engine. He moves the end of the driveway with it and looks at your family, puts up his hand to wave but he sees that look in your eye again, the one he hadn’t been able to describe earlier, and still couldn’t.

It’s a look that haunts him. The one that you’d given him before he woke up in a cold sweat because his dreams were inappropriate. The same look that would pop up in his head while at work. And worst of all the one that popped up when he’d taken a girl home, right when she’d scream his name as she came. 

He hadn’t stayed long at the most recent BBQ after that, the one they discussed that night, because when he’d walked into the back yard, you were at the edge of the garden on a lawn chair, sun kissing your skin in a way that made you sparkle. He hadn’t even stayed for food, making up some excuse that he had double booked himself. 

Yet when he had walked to his bike after finally saying goodbye to everyone, hoping you were still in the bathroom, as not to have to say goodbye, His heart had jumped to his throat when he saw you outside. You were bent over your driver's seat, one leg in the air as you tried to reach something you didn’t want to walk around the car to get.  It had filled his mind with things he would never say outloud, things he would rather take to his grave. 

Then you had straightened up and caught him watching you. Your face immediately reddened, a blush finding home on your cheeks. You’d made a joke about enjoying the view and he’d kissed that lie he kept telling himself goodbye. The lie that he was just lonely, and you were a pretty girl, that it was nothing more than a shallow physical attraction. 

Because no matter how many girls he fucked, each younger than the other, your face replaced them each time. He’d hated himself for it, because it was wrong. So wrong. He was so old and you were so young. He was thinking about retirement and you were still doing internships. You were one of his best friends' daughters. Someone you’d met when you were a kid, yet he’d only ever really known you as an adult. 

He had stayed as far away from you as he could after that, over working himself in hopes it would drive the want and need away. Yet it never did. He skipped group meet ups, not being able to look your dad in his eyes knowing the dreams he’d had about his daughter. Until his phone rang in the middle of the night, your contact number in bright bold letters.

But instead of finding it relaxing or looking forward to it, you found yourself dreading it. Your boyfriend was now considered an ex, and the warm beaches you were looking forward to suddenly sounded like hell. Then your dad asked a question that had you rethinking your entire life.

It was the night before your flight back to Pittsburg. You were sitting in your mostly empty apartment, the one that you’d spent the last 6 years at University in, all your belongings except for your last suitcase on a truck home. Or at least what would be your new home. An apartment in Pittsburg city center, near your offices, but close enough you wouldn’t pay out your ass to get back home for weekly family dinners. 

Your parents had phoned you under the guise that they wanted to confirm your flight information and what time you’d meet them for the second flight out to Florida. Then your dad had dropped the bomb, so casually, so matter of factly. “Since Sinclair isn’t coming, I invited one of my friends. Robby. You met him last year when he passed through there.” 

His name immediately had you frozen, your blood running cold, your mind immediately flicking to that night. Reliving it. The way he’d looked pulling into the apartment complex on that bike, hair slightly messy, leather jacket pulled taught against his body. 

You remember the initial awkwardness, you remember the way your eyes had studied his body, the small talk. You remembered the flirting and the one too many glasses of wine. 

You remembered the laughter, you remember how he kissed you, how you’d pulled that leather off his body, how easy he had pushed you onto that kitchen counter. 

You remembered how he felt pressed against you. How well he’d fit inside you. How your hands had held that headboard with knuckle-white strength. You remember how he looked with his mouth between your legs. 

You had remembered it everytime you’d fucked your boyfriend Sinclair after that. How you couldn’t get off unless he was in your mind. 

So when your father told him, he’d invited him, that since your boyfriend wasn’t joining they didn’t want to waste the money, and Robby could use the break. 

And you hadn’t been able to say no, to tell them you didn’t want that, because you couldn’t let them know what happened. So you just said “oh…okay” in a monotone voice. And that’s how you had hoped it would be. 

You hoped you could just ignore him, and that he’d ignore you, but when your plane landed in Pittsburg and you’d met up with your family, in the same airport your flight had landed, and your second flight would be taking off, those hopes flew immediately out the window. 

Your eyes caught his first, and he froze as he did, that same heavy leather jacket he wore that night being pulled close, pausing mid-movement, his jaw clenching hard enough you saw the muscle pop. 

Your dad came up behind him, slightly shorter and clapped him on the back, “Micheal, you remember my daughter?” Your dad said, moving to hug you. You snapped out of that haze and looked at your dad with a small smile, your eyes refinding Robby’s while your arms wrapped around your dad.

“Micheal? I thought your name was Robby?” You state and you see the way he swallows. 

“It is,” he says, voice slightly unlevel. Your dad doesn’t pick up on it, you do. “Robby’s my nickname” 

Your dad starts talking telling you about how the Robby nickname is from his surname. All information you’d known after you’d stalked him the day after. Your dad moves the two of you to the seat where you’d be waiting. You greet your mom, and your two younger brothers. The 14 year old twins, who thought Minecraft on their ipads was more interesting then seeing their big sister for the first time in six months. 

Your dad recounts how he met Robby, something about your brother and the ER, a mutual liking of the same sports team. Yet you don’t pay too much attention, your eyes locked on Robby and the way he averts your eyes. 

You breathe a sigh of relief when it finally comes to boarding. 

Only for it to be short lived when you find out he has to sit next to you on the plane. You immediately try to find out if you can switch with your dad under the guise of wanting to talk to your mother. 

But your mother, being your mother, had already picked out a movie she wanted to watch with your father, leaving no space for argument, you sunk into the window seat of the two chair wide aisle. 

It’s a few seconds later that Robby slumps down next to you. And an hour and a half till you are high in the air, your leg bouncing trying to figure out what to say to him. You look at him, deciding to be blunt, and he has his eyes closed head back against the seat. 

It stops you in your tracks. You sigh, turning back towards the window.

“You can take a breath, kid” He says and your head snaps back to him. He hasn’t moved, his eyes still closed. 

“I-” You try but words fail on your tongue. 

“We can pretend nothing happened” He says, popping an eye open to look at you. “Just don’t be surprised when you end up in my bed” He says, closing his eyes again, shifting his head. 

“I am not going to sleep with you…again” You whisper and he chuckles. 

He turns his head to look at you with a look you can’t place. “Are you sure about that?” he asks, his hand coming to rest on your leg. 

You take a shuddering breath in, as his hand moves lower, and you internally curse yourself for wearing a skirt. You move your hand to stop him and he shakes his head. 

“Robby stop” You tell him as you look to make sure your parents, who are sitting in the row in front of you,  aren't looking. Then back to where your brothers are behind you. 

“Don’t worry princess, they're engrossed in their screens. Everyone is” He whispers, moving his head closer to you. His breath fanning your shoulder. 

“Robby-” you try again but it comes out as a whine. 

“Ah, ah, that’s not what you call me” He says his fingers slipping between your thighs, running up and down your cotton covered core. “It’s Daddy to you baby”

His hand moves your panty to the side, his hands finding the wetness beneath it. 

Your body responds to his touch immediately, and it has you biting your lip, and closing your eyes. 

“There you go, baby” he whispers, as his hand finds your clit. 

You cough, covering a whine as that mix of pleasure and pain hits you. He moves his head then to your shoulder, pulling the shirt slightly to expose the skin there, before his lips are on it. Sucking hard enough to bruise. 

“Mich-” he lets out a warning sound as you try to use his name, and you immediately know what he’s referring to. You shake your head, not daring the words to leave your mouth in such a public display. 

But then again, you never thought you’d ever be in this situation. Your dad’s best friends hand between your legs, making you see stars, on a plane. 

He inserts a finger then without warning and you bite down hard on your lip. You swallow that lump in your throat again. A second digit joins him then, and he finds a pace that's enough to overwhelm you but too slow to get high off. 

“Robby” you whine, trying to keep your voice low. 

“That’s not my name, baby” he repeats and you roll your eyes. “Don’t roll your eyes at me” He reprimands immediately. 

“Please” You try and he lifts his eyebrow. 

“You are only making this painful for yourself, baby” He tells you and you curse him in your mind, fighting every instinct in you. 

“Daddy, please” You whine again and immediately he picks up the pace. 

“There we go, wasn’t that hard now was it babygirl?” He asks but you don’t respond, you can’t because the way he moves his fingers, adding a third for good measure, has every inch of your body on fire. 

You bite your lip again, trying to stifle another whine, but it slips out, broken and soft. 

“Carefull, baby, don’t want people to know how drunk you get off daddy's fingers now do you?” He asks and you nod, as you feel your climax starting to build. 

“No, don’t want them to know, Daddy” you dare breathe. 

He nods, and goes back to your shoulder. “Good, Good girl. Show Daddy, how good you make him feel huh?” He says and the dam wall within you breaks. 

You bite your own fist, to stifle every sound that wants to come out of you, and he guides you through it. His fingers coax all the pleasure out of you, until your body goes soft. The energy drained out of you. 

He pulls his fingers out then, his fingers wiping your release on your own thighs, the movement matching letters. You spell it out in your head, needing something to focus on. M. I. N. E

Mine.

You look at him and he smiles, pulling his hand away, and picking up his water bottle with that same hand that just moments ago was in you. He lifts the bottle to his lips, taking in a breath, those fingers against his nostrils. 

It has you shaking your head, closing them and chuckling lightly at the insanity of it.  You stand then, wanting to go to the bathroom to wash yourself of the mess between your legs. 

But he stops you. “You are not going to clean yourself baby, you are going to sit with the pleasure Daddy gave you between your legs.” He whispers in your ear and you look at him in shock. 

“Daddy” You whine in his ear and he shakes his head. 

“Nuh-uh, I want you to look your parents in their eyes knowing what mess I’ve made” He whispers and your eyes glass over. “My baby likes that idea huh?” he asks and you nod. “Such a dirty little girl”

It makes you clench your thighs together as the voice on the radio tells you that you would be landing in the next ten minutes. You look at Robby as he shifts in his seat, adjusting his front, obviously affected by what just happened between you two as well. It was going to be a long, long holiday. 

But it was his way of grounding himself, he’d put them in after hard cases, or just to help pass the time while charting. No one ever said anything about it, sure Benton had told him off once or twice when it had gotten in the way of work, but it was one of those things he would never let go of. 

He had a whole set up at home, a way to burn CDs and make them his own. His favourite had been on repeat for the past week, a mix of Smashing Pumpkins and Oasis, all songs that he wouldn’t admit had hit something in his soul. 

He never thought anyone would have spared it anymore than a single thought, until he opened his locker at the end of a shift. And it had stared him in the face, that slightly faded brown paper and the watercolor flowers you’d made with kisses on the front. 

His brows had furrowed as he chucked his stethoscope into his locker and picked up the CD case. He opened it and a piece of paper had fallen out of it.

He immediately crouched to pick it up, “Dear Carter” was written in swirly letters on the folded paper. He unraveled the paper to a letter, the handwriting looked so familiar yet he couldn’t place it. 

“Carter, I have thought about making this from the moment I found out about your little music habit. I just never knew quite how to bring it up, so I have decided to leave it in your hands. 

You have made everyday in this ER worth getting up for, even if it’s a small glimpse of your smile. I hope you don’t find this weird, I  just thought maybe you should hear what you sound like to someone else, what you look like in their eyes.

Don’t skip songs and listen in order, or do, and miss the whole point of this. 

Try to get some sleep, we both know you don’t get nearly enough. 

Sincerely, your secret admirer.“

He read the page, his thoughts going a million miles an hour. He thought about who it could be, a nurse, a fellow resident, but no one's name felt quite right. He sighed, pulling off the white coat, pulling out the CD player. He switched his personally burned CD out, opening your case to the white CD with little flowers drawn on it. 

He switched it out pressing play as he pulled on his coat, ready to head home for the evening. He pushed the discman into one of the inner coat pockets, making sure his earphones were still sitting right in his ear before he grabbed his bag and threw it over his shoulder, making sure to put the case snuggly into the bag first. 

He turned then, walking out the staff room, and back into the ED. Saying goodbye to the night shift before walking out the ER doors as an ambulance pulled up. 

He put the other earphone in before pressing play, restarting the first song he hadn’t fully been listening to.

The opening lines are dreamy and when he pulls out the CD case again opening it to see the track list he sees it’s a song by an artist he didn’t know. Mazzy Star - Fade Into You

He smiles as he walks, his eyes looking at each side of the road before crossing. The repeating of the “Strange you never knew” closing verse. The Dreamy, tired, intimate feeling of it having him pause at the next cross walk. Not because a car drives past because he wanted to know more, why this song, what were you trying to convey. 

But then that small click hits and the song changes, the opening lines immediately recognizable as one of his favourite The Goo Goo Dolls songs filling his ears. 

And suddenly he doesn’t feel like someone's crush but rather that he was known, without realizing it. Like someone saw the version of himself he tried to hide, the one that questioned who he was, the one who grew up way too fast. The one who was stuck in nostalgia, and would never let anyone get close enough to know his history. 

That same feeling of nostalgia continues with the next song by Fleetwood Mac. Landslide, one of his favourite songs from the self-titled album. 

A few more songs pass, some from the eighties, some newer for the time, but all that underlying misunderstood, slightly lonely vibe filling the CD. Songs from Artists like Radiohead and Verve, some from Blur and Willson Phillips. Even a song from the up and coming band, Green Day. 

As he walked up the steps to his medical school dormitory he had free housing due to being the Resident Advisor, the CD had gone silent. He instinctively moved to restart it when he heard the small shuffle of movement. 

Almost like someone setting up to speak.

 “John” Your voice shot through his ears and he immediately paused, his feet planting themselves on the stairs. He would recognize that voice anywhere, he’d recognize your voice even in a crowd.

“I’m sorry, I never told you in person, but I couldn’t leave without telling you the truth.”

His mind immediately catches up to the situation as you speak. The nurse who had joined the Cook County General Hospital, around the same time as him. The girl who had learnt almost every lesson beside him. The girl who he was friends with. The same girl who he’d told to pursue Surgery instead of settling for a Nurse like her mother wanted. 

The girl who was leaving Chicago the next morning for her internship in Pittsburgh. The girl who he’d had feelings for since he’d walked in on her giving a mouthful to a patient for disrespecting Dr Benton. 

Your voice continued in his ear, a shy laugh, an awkward shuffle. “You were always kind to me, one of my favourite people in all of Chicago. I wouldn’t have the courage I do without you. So thank you, John Carter, for making even the hardest of days easy. I will forever be indebted to you” 

It flicks then to another song, Romeo and Juliet by the Dire Straits, the song you’d spoken about the first time you gave him a lift home. When he’d climbed into your Red Volkswagen Beetle and pressed play on that cassette. 

And suddenly before he can think about it, he’s moving, running to that apartment you’d hosted out of a couple times in the time he’d known you. The one a couple blocks from him. 

It’s less than five minutes and he’s slowing the view of that Volkswagen in his sights. He walks on beat to the song in his ears. Building up courage as he climbs the steps, slipping in as someone walks out. 

He immediately finds your apartment door and knocks, the last minute of the song fading out as the CD finally ends. 

He pulls his earphones out right as you open the door.

You don’t even get his name out before he’s kissing you. Hands cupping your cheeks, balance faltering slightly as he takes a step forward. He felt like a fool for not noticing before. For not realizing. Because he’d pushed the feelings away for so long he had started to believe the lies he told himself. 

The ones that said he was delusional, that you would never see him that way. That said every smile and flirty joke hadn’t meant more than you being friendly. 

There was a split second where you just stared at him in shock before your hands found his waist and you kissed him back hard enough to make him dizzy. 

You taste exactly like what he’d imagined you did. Sweet like strawberries and sugar. And as he pulled away, he got a whiff of vanilla and florals. When his eyes meet yours, he doesn’t give you a second to talk. 

“I like you too. I’ve liked you too, for a long time. I’m sorry I never noticed” He says plainly and you smile, as he continues ranting. Telling you how he had known it from the second he met you, or how he had over thought interaction. 

He didn’t stop till you kissed him again, pushing onto your tip toes to let your arms wrap around his neck. When you pull back again, he looks like a deer in headlights. 

“Had I known all it took was a Burnt CD, I would have done it sooner” You smile before softening, your hand moving to cup his cheek. “Took you long enough, Carter” 

He smiled at you, because for the first time in a long time, the noise in his head finally went quiet. “I’m sorry” he whispered, his hand finding yours and holding it. 

“Come inside?” You asked him studying his eyes, and the look he gave you. 

He smiled, wide, and nodded. “Yea, yea. I would love too”