parallel universe
Ch. 4
For: @chase-me-round
Tag list: @thesandbeneathmytoes
AN: I wrote this with a migraine, so please forgive any errors 🤞🏻✌🏻
☤
3.5 years ago.
"Thanks," you murmur as Norah Jones fades into the background and you’ve cut across the room past people holding champagne, flutes, and canna, pays towards the French doors that lead to the balcony
You promised yourself that you would try. That you wouldn’t stick to the corner of the room or only with people you knew.
After all the whole point of the conference was to network, but you couldn’t help but seek him out.
The soft, brown eyes, that crinkle as he laughed, the way his face brightened when he noticed you – how he moved to slip past Clay Barrett, how his eyebrows drew together before you felt the hand on your arm.
You glance up, noticing the man you sat next to during the lecture that morning – his bright red hair and blue eyes, looking almost apologetic when he asks you to dance.
"Sure," you laugh, "you're Mark, right?"
"Yes," he grins, "Emma, PTMC. Fourth year resident."
"Got it in one," you joke, face flushing. Oh my God, shut up! you chastise yourself.
"you look stunning by the way," Mark grins, and you notice that his eyes remain on your face, and you flush deeper.
"Thank you, you look sharp," Mark laughs, settling his hand against your waist as Come Away With Me by Norah Jones, warbles from the speakers. "You're from Washington, right?"
Mark nods, carefully guiding you towards the middle of the dance floor, and you bite your lip, trying to remember what exactly he did. "General surgery?" you guess.
"Got it in one," Mark winks, and it surprises a laugh out of you. "I work at Virginia Mason, in Seattle." He spins you gently and the cool satin of your skirt swirls around your calves as he pulls you closer. "Are you going to apply for a fellowship?"
"Yes," you nod, "I’ve actually been considering general surgery –"
"Really?"
"Yes, if I’ve learned anything in working in emergency, it’s that it is not for me."
"It's hard work" Mark murmurs, "I don’t envy the doctors who work there."
You snort a laugh, Robby had worked at the Pitt for nearly twenty years – just the thought makes anxiety curdle in your belly.
"Are you hoping to stay in Pittsburgh?"
You shrug, as Mark spins you again. "Ideally yes, my life is here," you spot Robby, who’s standing on the e edge of the dance floor, nodding as Barrett continues yapping, but you know Robby well enough to know that he’s not listening. "But I’m not opposed to moving, for the right fit."
"What do you hope to specialize in?"
"Honestly, I haven’t decided. My roommate is a surgeon at PTMC so I’m hoping to assist her with the surgery when I get back." Emery was pushing you for trauma and critical care, but a part of you was curious about pediatric surgery, despite the look Emery had given you.
"You're too soft, Emma. Paediatrics would kill you."
"If I had to choose surgical oncology."
mark’s eyebrows shoot up, "really?"
"Yeah," you know, "my grandma had a brain tumor… The surgeons did incredible work."
"You must have steady hands."
You quirk your head, watching colour flush the tips of Mark’s ears as the song comes to an end.
"Thanks, Mark."
"Of course," he reaches into his suit jacket to pull out a business card. "If you ever find yourself in Seattle, hit me up. Virginia Mason would be lucky to have you."
"You're so sweet," you murmur, leaning up to kiss him on his cheek.
"Take care, Emma."
"You too."
You wince as you head off the dance floor.
Your feet are killing you – which is your own fault. You knew you should have broken your new heels in.
You brush your hair over your shoulder, heading for the French doors that lead to the balcony. Exhaling as the cool late summer breeze stirs your hair as you drop onto the bench, to rub your heel.
"Shit."
"Blisters?" Robby wonders, and you look up at him.
"Yes," you mutter, opening your clutch to grab a Band-Aid.
"Here," Robby sit down next to you, holding out his hand for your purse
"Oh, you don’t have to -"
Robby reaches down to wrap his fingers around your ankle, so he can pull your leg across his lap, and you gasp clutching your skirt, so the deep slit doesn’t rise up any further.
Robby let you go so he can shrug his suit jacket off – it’s navy blue suede, that sits heavy in your lap as he drapes it across your legs.
"Thanks."
"You're welcome," he grins, unbuckling your heel, carefully setting it onto the bench next to him. "It's not too bad," Robby murmurs, fingers flexing against your foot, and he leans closer to get a better look, and you bite your lip as he carefully smoothes the Band-Aid over your blister.
"You look beautiful," he says, gesturing for your other foot, and you shift, gasping as Robby's coat slips between your legs onto the ground.
"Jesus," you mutter, "sorry." Flashing your attending wasn’t on your bingo card tonight, and you feel heat creep up the back of your neck, watching Robby's adams apple bob as he swallows, and you know, he saw everything through the black mesh of your thong.
"This one’s bigger," Robby declares.
"Bulla or vesicle?" you whisper.
"Bulla."
"Shit," you sigh, wincing as he brushes his fingers across your blister. "Do we need to lance it?"
"No," Robby chuckles, playing along. "It's not in a high pressure area –"
"Tell that to my heel."
"Why don’t you just take them off?"
"And what?" you counter, "and walk around in my bare feet?"
Robby shrugs, "unless you’re ready to get out of here."
You frown, "but I promised Park a dance."
Robby's eyebrows furrow and you laugh, not missing the obvious relief on his face.
"Did you?"
"What?"
"Want to dance?
"Oh, but you haven’t danced all night."
"Maybe I was waiting for the right partner."
You roll your eyes, even as your heart skips at his intense gaze.
"Okay," you nod, "let’s dance."
You move out of his lap, not missing how his eyes drop between your legs, and you toss his suit jacket towards him.
"My eyes are up here Dr. Robinavitch."
He shakes his head, mouth working up as he stands, "don’t act like that wasn’t on purpose," and you flush pretty, and warmth drops between your legs as he wraps his arm around your waist to pull you closer.
"So what if it was? You've been staring at me all night, Robby.
"It's impossible not to," he admits gripping your waist, "you look incredible."
"Thank you," you whisper, "I wanted you to look, I want –" he interrupts you with a kiss, and you melt against him, reaching out to fist your hands into his shirt to pull him closer.
Your kiss in the stairwell two months ago had been tentative, but this kiss is bruising and you can’t help the needy little noise you make as he draws his tongue along your bottom lip.
You open your mouth, linking your arms around his neck as he deepens the kiss.
"God," he grunts, against your lips, "do you have any idea what you do to me?"
You can feel it, against your thigh, and you clench your legs as he leans forward to kiss you again.
You could get lost like this, his mouth against yours, his tongue licking into your mouth, as if he’s trying to commit it to memory. The balcony door doors bang open and he quickly guide you behind him as Barrett grins.
"There you are, I was hoping to introduce you to an old friend of mine."
"Sure, Clay," Robby nods, "I'll be right there." He waits until Barrett disappears back inside before he hands you your shoes.
"You owe me a dance."
You roll your eyes, waving him away, so you can sit down to put on your heels, heart still pounding in your throat. Your hands tremble as you buckle your shoes.
Champagne.
You you needed champagne.
☤
You Were late, but you don’t bother texting Robby as you cut the engine, pulling the visor down to look at yourself in the mirror.
You're not trying to look pretty, but a little bit less like a corpse as you spread my lip stain over your lips, and you grip the applicator in your hand realizing it’s the same shade you wore that night…
You take a deep breath, slapping your cheeks before you grab your purse, shouldering it as you cross the street.
Novaria is busy, and the den vaguely reminds you of the ED as you scan the café, spotting Robby.
He’s sitting at a small table brown jacket slung across the back of his chair, glasses, sitting low on his nose as he scroll through his phone. You know it’s something pretentious – like JAMA and you pause when he looks up, lifting his hand in a wave as you make your way over.
"I got you an iced tea," he says, actually standing up, and he just sort of stands there as you drop into the chair across from him.
"You had fun last night," he quits, mouth working up into a smile
"I feel like shit," you reply, taking a sip of your iced tea, hating how he remembered you prefer half sweet with a squeeze of lemon and you look at him.
"Have you seen Jivadi's TikTok‘s?" Robby wonders, turning his phone around to show you Victoria’s profile and her substantial number of followers.
"Oh, yeah. They're pretty fucking cool."
"I'm pretty sure her videos are what got Jesse released so quickly." Your brow furrows, "oh, he was detained by ICE last year."
"Holy shit," clearly you’d missed that series of videos, and you roll your eyes, "fuck ICE."
"Absolutely," Robby nods as you take another sip, and you raise your eyebrows as if to say well?
"i’m glad you’re back."
"I didn’t come back for you."
"I didn’t assume you did."
You swallow "then why –?" He gives you a look.
"Because I wanted to apologize, I fucked up
You snort, "well at least you know."
"It's all I’ve been thinking about," he admits, "I tried calling."
"I know."
"We're going to be working together, and I don’t want what happened –"
"I won’t let our past affect any of my patients, or the care I provide for them. You were the last damn thing on my mind when I accepted this position."
"Was it Jack?"
You choke on your sip, "excuse me?"
"I know he came to visit you.
"So did Emery and Parker, hell Crus visited me on his way to California. How do you know I didn’t come back for him?"
Robby scoffs, and you’re sorely tempted to throw what’s left of your drink into his stupid face.
"I'm too fucking hung over to have this conversation."
"I missed you."
You blink, "OK? I forgive you." You spit, shoving your drink away. "Is that what you want to hear? Because I don’t."
"I don’t expect you to -"
"You're an asshole," you kiss, "and a fucking coward," you blink against the hot cut of tears. "I would have stayed you know, if you’d asked me to."
"I couldn’t –"
"Why not?"
Robby sighs, "because I was your attending -"
"Not for much longer, and that didn’t stop you before -"
"Emma -"
"- from taking what you wanted, and then acting like nothing fucking happened." You watch your words, hit him and you lean forward, gripping your purse. "You broke my heart."
Robby reels back like you hit him.
"I’m happy to work with you, Michael. You’re a great doctor, but it ends in the emergency room. No more texts, no more drunk voicemails and no more fucking happy birthdays." Your chair scraping across the floor gets a few looks. "Lose my fucking number," you spit standing up, spinning on your heel before Robbie has a chance to speak.
You gasp as you shoulder open the front door finally letting the tears fall as you step outside.
☤
you went as the painting next to the front door rattles against the wall as you slammed the door.
"Em?" Emery calls from the living room, and you walk right past her, slamming the door to your bedroom.
Emery knocked softly on your door a few minutes later before cracking it open. "So I take it. It went well, huh?"
You heave something between a laugh and a sob dropping your face into your hands.
"Oh honey."
The mattress dips under her weight as she wraps her arms around you, pulling you against her chest. "I’m so sorry."
"I’m so stupid. I don’t know what I thought he would say.
"You're not stupid, he’s the idiot for letting you go."
"I hate him," you sob, pressing your face against her shoulder.
"No you don’t," Emery murmurs, running her fingers through your hair.
"No, but I wish I did. It would make all of this so much easier."
"What do you need?"
You sit there for a moment thinking, "Tonkatsu."
Emery snorts, "you’ve got it."
☤
