75% of the way through

That thought played on repeat for your whole sixth week of orthopedics. It was frankly the only thing keeping you from losing your mind with your heart. 

You really meant to try to talking to him again. At least once.

There just never seemed to be a good time. And yeah, it was also hard to work up the courage after how your first attempt had gone.

You were like 80% sure now that everyone around you had been right, Brendon was using you.

Still, it was hard to imagine going through the rest of your rotation stuck in this limbo.

"What happened?" Yolanda's concerned voice cut through the break room. Which honestly should have told you how obvious it was, Yolanda barely showed emotions to her girlfriend- let alone an acquaintance. 

"Don't know what you're talking about." You huffed, stabbing your salad.

Everything was on a downward spiral. Ever since that night you two argued, things had only gotten colder. It was barely an argument, but what else would you call it? Six sentences that tore apart somehow both the shortest and most intense relationship you'd ever had.

"Cut the bullshit, Trinity is really worried and she won't shut up about it. Honestly we all are. Did Park do something?"

"No!" You were quick to jump to his defense. It wasn't his fault you startled so quickly. It wasn't his fault you'd asked for space. "Dr. Park didn't do anything wrong."

"You realize how hard that is to believe right. Tell us what happened."

"Absolutely nothing!" You half-shouted, getting up to leave the room. "Just drop it."

What were you even supposed to say? I fucked up the best thing in my life? I'm shit at communication and struggling to fix my own mess?  What a way to seem like just the immature young adult you'd fought hard not to be perceived as. But at the end of the day.... it seemed worth the humiliation if it gave you a second chance with Brendon.

Resolve made once again you knocked on the door to his office, sure he must still be finishing up the paperwork from the previous surgery.

"What?" He barked through the door.

"Sorry, I... if you have a minute?" You asked cautiously, pushing the door open a crack.

"Yeah- yeah of course baby doc." He shuffled a few things on his desk, and within a minute you had his undivided attention.

You weren't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Well?" He rose a brow and you could tell he wasn't trying to rush you, his voice carrying much more patience than you were sure anyone else had heard from The Shark.

"I'm sorry. About last week. And the week before." You rubbed your temples, taking a breath and trying to work up the courage to continue.

"It's okay. I just wish you'd-" Whatever he'd been about to say was cut off by the shrill beep of a pager. He sighed. "Shit- ring check? Multiple breaks and a partial amputation, they need us ASAP."

"Yeah, after's fine."

Maybe I'll actually figure out what to say by then.

He stood still in the ER as the patient was wheeled up with baby doc accompanying. She could handle getting the surgery started, he had time for a granola bar or something right? Once again, his sustenance was interrupted by Robby on some crusade.

"Dr. Park? A word." The older man grabbed his arm and not entirely gently pulled him into an empty patient room, shutting the door behind them.

"Sure- I've got all the time in the world." Park grumbled, crossing his arms and glaring at Robby.

"Stop fucking my daughter."

"EXCUSE me?!" He barely remembered to keep his voice down. 

"I'm not stupid, I can put two and two together as to why she's been 'staying late' the last few weeks. Leave her be, she doesn't need to be another notch in your belt or whatever this is." Robby stepped closer, crossing his arms as well and puffing his chest out.

As if there was a world where Brendon Park was intimidated by a geriatric emergency room doctor.

At the same time, it probably wouldn't be a good idea to come to blows with the man over an obvious miscommunication.

"For your information, it's not... just fucking." He looked around the room awkwardly. Maybe a physical altercation was better than continuing this conversation. "We're... seeing each other. Romantically."

Sure maybe the last week hadn't felt like that. But they were. Weren't they? He was already planning to take her out to dinner once she was a resident and he had less authority over her. None if she still chose emergency medicine which... he had to admit, the idea was growing on him day by day. Seeing the toll it was taking on her to keep their relationship hidden because of the boss/employee relationship, he was starting to realize it might be better for both of them if she didn't choose orthopedics long term.

"Oh? I'm sorry are you trying to tell me the two of you are dating?" Robby scoffed.

"Yes. Problem?" Park raised an eyebrow, settling back into his crossed arms and resting bitch face posture. 

"So many. For starters, what're you gonna do when she chooses emergency medicine for residency? What then?" He glared like he'd found a gaping hole in Park's statement.

"What's it matter?" Park shrugged, basking a little in the shock coming off the other man. It wasn't often Park caught people by surprise. "Aside from the fact that I'd kill to have her skills in my department, there's only positives to her switching departments. Mainly the fact that we wouldn't have to hide anything anymore. I'm honestly counting down the days until her rotation ends, and I'm expecting her to choose emergency medicine at this point. She has a passion for it, who am I get in the way of that? Well... I guess there's a few negatives to her choosing emergency, not seeing her all day would suck, but I could always stop down between surgeries. And you guys would get much quicker response times to pages, those would be a good chance to see her too."

By the end, Park was rambling- mind already off of the current conversation and imagining all the ways they could integrate their relationship into their every day lives once she was a resident.

"Holy shit." Robby's voice cut him off. "You're in love with her aren't you?"

Love? No he's not.... Well. Shit.

"I think I might be." Park barely recognized the softness in his voice, the way Robby was looking at him told him it wasn't a tone he'd ever used in the hospital.

He hadn't considered it. Hell they'd only known each other six weeks, been dating for maybe three? But the more he thought about her... from little things like the way her hair fell down her shoulders when she undid it after a long day, to the way she made time to talk to every patient they'd operated on, both before and after surgery. Love was the only feeling that fit.

Respect, admiration, adoration; they all fell short.

"I'll still make sure you end up here in the pit if you hurt her. And I'm only assigning fresh med students to your case." Robby reached out, clapping the other man on the shoulder. "But if she's happy I'll leave the two of you be."

It took his pager going off to remind him that he needed to get up to surgery and he couldn't stand around soaking in the fact that he had fallen head over heels in just a few weeks.

You saw the patient onto the elevator and then turned to look for Park. At some point he'd fractured off from the group, you assumed to grab a snack. He was always complaining how they stocked the vending machines down here with better options.

Maybe you could have an abbreviated version of the conversation you needed to have before surgery. Clear the air.

You caught sight of him and Robby through the window of a patient room talking animatedly. Originally you were planning on saving Park from what was probably Robby being overbearing once again, but then you heard sounds drifting through the crack in the door. Ducking down, you stayed frozen outside the door- listening in where they couldn't possibly see you and straining to hear the words clearer.

"What're you gonna do when she chooses emergency medicine for residency?"

"Then what's it matter?"

Your heart stopped beating so fast you had a fleeting thought to call for a crash cart.

What's it matter? What's it matter???

Was what you had that fragile? Or... fuck if this didn't feel like the final piece of the puzzle. One that added up to Brendon being just the man everyone else described.

"There's only positives to her switching departments."

He didn't even want her in ortho anymore? What happened in the last few weeks to change his mind?

The only thing you could think that had changed was.... you.

"I'm honestly counting down the days until her rotation ends."

It was both a blessing and a curse when your eavesdropping was interrupted by Dennis. On one hand, you did want to hear what else Park was going to say.

At the same time you weren't sure how much more your heart could take.

"What're we doing down here?" Dennis's voice spoke over the next thing Park said and you turned to find him squatting down next to you. "Oh my god are you okay??"

His face quickly morphed from curiosity to concern and you raised a hand to your cheek to realize it was wet.

Crying made sense. It felt like the perfect response to feeling your heart break in real time.

"I'm fi- no. No I'm not." Your voice broke before you could even get out the lie of 'I'm fine' and you wiped at your cheeks as a broken laugh slipped out. "Um- you have a half day today right?"

"Yeah, I was actually on my way out." He frowned.

"Could you hang out like another ten minutes and drive me home? I just need to convince Garcia to give Park an excuse for me." 

There was no way you could stand across the table in surgery from him for hours and not break down. You weren't even sure you could make it upstairs without starting to give into the aching in your chest.

"Yeah yeah, whatever you need." 

You took the stairs three at a time, hoping to beat Park upstairs. You didn't know what you'd do if you were forced to face him so soon.

Thankfully it seemed like the universe was on your side because the first person you ran into was Garcia.

"Woah, slow down kid- where's Park, they're waiting to start the surgery?"

"He's downstairs still- I don't- I need to go home." 

"Did you two argue, is that why you're crying?" In typical Garcia fashion- she didn't actually seem to care that much. Aside from the fact that it was currently affecting work.

"Look just- tell him I started throwing up or something, please. I'll make sure Trinity stops bugging you about me so you can get back to your ramen and sex."

She stared at you a beat too long and you wondered if she was going to force you to face the music.

"Fine. Better get going baby doc."

Why did Santos have to be attracted to mean woman? The thought briefly broke through the sad cloud around you and almost had you smiling as you got back down to the ER, thankfully with Park gone.

It was hours later when your tears had dried and you'd attempted unsuccessfully to fill the hole in your heart with ice cream that your phone pinged.

Heard you went home, are you feeling alright? Need me to swing by with soup or anything?

What a fucking liar. He chose the wrong career path, would've made a killing as an actor.

No.

Okay. I'll see you tomorrow?

Imagining walking onto the orthopedics floor and pretending everything was still normal almost made you actually throw up.

You had an email typed up and sent to Gloria before you fell asleep.

NOTES:

Park calls it resting bitch face now because the reader told him to fix his face one time and explained what a resting bitch face was

“I know he’s arrogant,” you murmured to a friend, a book clutched tightly to your chest, “and he talks like he has all the answers. But… I can’t help it. There’s something about him. The way he sees things, the way he challenges everything… I admire him.”

His name was never spoken, but there was no doubt who you were talking about.

Ratio stepped into the library, his usual composed expression giving away nothing. “It’s a shame,” he said, making you stiffen. “For someone so observant, you fail to recognize the most obvious of truths.”

You turned sharply, eyes wide. “What—”

He stepped closer, voice dropping into something softer, something edged with amusement. “You assume admiration is one-sided?” His piercing gaze met yours. “Perhaps, if you were to look at the variables again, you would see the solution has always been within reach.”

You blinked, heartbeat racing. “Are you saying…?”

Ratio smirked. “I’m saying, if you were to confess again—this time to my face—I might just be inclined to give you the answer you’re hoping for.”

Sampo had an uncanny ability to be exactly where he wasn’t supposed to be.

Which is how he found himself eavesdropping outside a supply room, arms crossed as he listened to you, of all people, admitting something rather interesting to Natasha.

“I don’t know why I like him,” you groaned. “He’s frustrating, sneaky, and probably lying half the time—but somehow, I just… do.”

Sampo’s grin widened. Oh?

He waited a beat before dramatically pushing the door open, wearing the most innocent expression he could muster. “Well, well, well! What’s all this, huh? Talking about little old me behind my back? I’m flattered!”

You spun around, color draining from your face before returning in full force. “How long have you—?”

“Long enough!” He waggled his eyebrows. “Gotta say, sunshine, I had no idea you felt that way.”

Natasha sighed, unimpressed. “Sampo, get out.”

“Ah-ah, not before I get a proper answer!” He leaned closer, voice teasing but eyes searching. “So? You like me, huh? Care to make that official, or should I start wooing you properly?”

You groaned, covering your face. “I take it back.”

“Ah, too late! No refunds, no returns,” he chuckled. “Guess that means you’re stuck with me now.”

Aventurine always knew when people were lying. It was a skill he had honed to perfection, a survival instinct as much as a talent.

But what fascinated him more was when people told the truth without realizing it.

And tonight, as he leaned casually against the grand casino balcony, he had just stumbled upon a rather delightful little secret.

“I know he’s dangerous,” you admitted to someone, your voice lost in the buzz of music and chatter below. “But that’s what makes him so compelling. It’s like every conversation is a game, and I… I can’t help but want to play.”

His lips curled into a knowing smirk. Oh, darling, you’re more than just playing—you’re already all in.

Slipping out of the shadows, he chuckled as you jolted at his sudden presence. “Now, now. What’s this I hear? Someone’s got a little crush?”

You gasped. “You—!?”

Aventurine tilted his head, eyes gleaming with amusement. “You wound me, dearest. How could you not tell me sooner?” He tapped his chin, pretending to consider. “Should I make this interesting? A gamble, perhaps?”

Your breath caught. “What kind of gamble?”

He leaned in, voice dropping to a murmur. “A kiss, if you win.” A pause, then a smirk. “And if I win? Well, I suppose I’ll just have to take that kiss myself.”

Boothill had been called many things—reckless, ruthless, a dead man walking. But blind wasn’t one of them.

Which was why, when he overheard your conversation with an old friend in a dimly lit saloon, he wasn’t exactly surprised.

“You ever tell him?” your friend asked, swirling their drink.

You scoffed. “Tell Boothill? Please. He’d probably laugh in my face.”

At that moment, the infamous cyborg cowboy made his entrance, heavy boots clicking against the floor. “Now, sweetheart,” he drawled, teeth flashing in a shark-like grin, “what makes you think I’d do a thing like that?”

Your eyes widened in horror. “You—!? How long—!?”

Boothill tipped his hat, sliding into the seat beside you. “Long enough to hear somethin’ real interestin’.” He leaned closer, his eyes narrowing playfully. “Now, tell me true—was that just some whiskey talk, or do you really got a thing for me?”

You glared at your friend, who was conveniently looking the other way. “I hate you.”

Boothill just chuckled. “That ain’t an answer, sugar.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “And if I did?”

He smirked. “Then I reckon you just made my day a whole lot more interesting.”