#frankmel

🗨️👩🏼 mel speaks → langdon activates 🧑🏻!

The fact that the narrative continuously emphasizes how good Mel is with kids, especially young children. And how we (the audience) are always reminded that Frank is the father of two very young kids because of the bracelet he wears. Frank is also shown as the only character to pay close attention to how well Mel treats an autistic patient and to be genuinely thankful and involved in learning that from her. The meta subtext being that Mel would do well around Frank’s kids and Frank would do well around Becca, Mel’s sister.

Mel is almost always shown as being relatively awkward and removed from others, even in situations when she’s getting along well with someone and doing well in the workplace. Except with Langdon. Whom she is able to fully connect and relax with. Langdon is almost always shown to have limited patience with most other characters and is very sarcastic and cynical in his interactions with everyone, at some point. Except with Mel. He very quickly becomes patient, calm, and in-tune with her. Always, from there on out.

How we (the audience) are told pretty much from the get-go that Mel likely won’t want to leave this particular hospital for a long time, because it’s a short ways from her sister’s care facility and that’s very important to her. And how we also know that Langdon has always intended to stay at The Pitt because Robbie wrote him a recommendation letter so that he could be hired on as an attending once his residency finished. We are never given reason to believe that any other characters (besides the attendings) may want to stay working at the hospital indefinitely (and therefore stay near each other in the long run). Except for Mel and Langdon.

@kingdonmicrofic day thirteen: smoke - 295 words - recreational drug use (marijuana), college au, title from here

Mel doesn’t know what she’s doing. Generally, but also now, sitting on the floor of Trinity’s dorm room with her knees pulled up to her chest while her friends pass around a joint. Mel has never smoked before. She’s had edibles, and she’s liked those, but never inhaled anything.

When Trinity passes her the joint, she tries to copy what she’s watched the others do. She sucks too hard and fast, her lungs filling past capacity, and coughs hard. Frank, sitting to her right—she had been trying not to think about why he sat by her—thwacks her on the back. Says, “Easy, girl.” The words prickle down Mel’s spine, southbound.

“Chill, Mel-sothelioma,” Trinity chuckles. She turns from Dennis, to Yolanda, to them all. “Get it? ‘Cause she coughed?”

But Mel isn’t paying attention to Trinity and her jokes, because her fingers are brushing against Frank’s as she hands him the joint. He smiles at her, a big but private, smile. Southbound.

“Here, like this,” he says lowly, just for her ears. She watches him take a small drag, hold his breath, and then breathe out a steady cloud. “Try again.”

Mel takes the joint back and tries again. It does go more smoothly, and she passes it back to him.

“I think I like the edibles better,” she says, also speaking lowly, just for him to hear, while the rest of the group debates if mesothelioma primarily affects the lungs or not.

Frank licks his lips. His eyes flick to the rest of the group, then back to her. “Try this, instead,” he says. Before she knows it, he has his hand on her face, coaxing her to open her mouth, so he can blow smoke inside.