#ghostwifed

naomi closed the front door behind the other woman, watching through the window as the last car pulled away down the street. she stood there for a moment longer than necessary, one hand still on the doorknob. the house felt quieter, but kate was still here. she made her way back toward the living room, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. there was something she couldn't quite name — that same thing she'd noticed before at the farmer's market last month, or that fundraiser at the community center. just a slight pull of attention whenever kate was around, like her brain registered her presence before she consciously realized it. she'd never really thought about it until tonight. "thanks for coming," naomi said as she stepped back into the living room. her voice sounded normal, which was good. "i'm glad you could make it." it was the kind of thing you'd say to anyone. safe. easy. but something felt different now that it was just the two of them. / @ghostwifed

"what? you said to pick you up for lunch, you didn't say i couldn't drive you to some place nice. there's a real cool diner on the road to where i'm taking you." constance smirked, handing the other her spare helmet as she put on her own, matte black with horns. "plus, that means you get to feel me up for like, at least half an hour." she teased, helping quinn onto the motorbike before climbing in front of her, settling properly and revving the engine on. "ready, future doc? hang on tight." she was gracious enough to wait until quinn's hands were around her before kicking the stand off, quickly making her way out of the campus and then, leaving the city altogether, eager to get to spend the afternoon with the brunette, to have her just for herself instead of waiting for her all day.

"for someone who despises me as much as you do, you surely corner me rather rapidly when nobody's watching."

beau rubs a hand over his face , scrunching his nose a little bit as he reads over the letter . another letter reminding him that rent was due . " would you still love me if i was living in a shop doorway ? " head tilts as he glances at fabian , before he realises what he's said . " not love me , obviously but like... would you bring snacks to my doorway ? " beau knows he's being dramatic , he'll working something out to get his rent money. he always does .

" okay ? so i didn't tell you ! i don't have to tell you everything , jesus christ . "

grace’s eyes are wide and mouth is still agape, a contrast of emotions mixing together uncomfortably in her chest. she doesn’t know which to focus on first — the shock, the anger, the pride — and that added confusion results in a breath of sharp laughter slipping from her lips as she holds tight to booker’s arm. getting them both out of here as quickly as possible is the only safe option here. “okay, back up. we gotta go. like, now.”

in the aftermath of several of their deaths, she's still trying to wrap her head around the circumstances surrounding the kincaid family. as a surgeon, she can't understand how adults who were perfectly healthy all managed to die in succession of one another. now, almost a year to the day since she attended their funerals, peyton is visiting her former flame and the last remaining kincaid heir. "it still doesn't feel real." she had so many memories of spending the summer at their estate, the one before she left for medical school. uprooting her entire life to attend harvard meant that her relationship with desmond ended prematurely. now that she's home for good, she feels a conflict of interest between what her heart is telling her and what her head is. "your mom wrote to me, you know. while i was in boston. she sent me books and medical journals, i still have the engraved stethoscope she bought me for my birthday." desmond's mother had been such a bright light in her life. "i really miss her, i miss all of them."

" i never meant to hurt you. "