Your smile, Your ghost (part 19)
Pairing: Brendon Park x femReader (nurse reader)
Warning: This is my interpretation of Park’s character, considering the 30 seconds of screen time he got. No medical knowledge from the writer. slightly suggestive?
Summary: Brendon Park feels like he’s being haunted by a pretty girl in scrubs who seems to always show up when he needs her.
Chapter Summary: Dr. Park drives you home. He didn’t say he’d drive you STRAIGHT home.
“What’s your address?” Park asked as he grabbed his phone and unlocked it.
“You don’t have to drive me all the way home,” you insisted.
Wordlessly, he passed you his phone with the Maps app open. You reluctantly took it from him and typed in your address, then passed it back to him. He put the phone back on the stand and drove away.
You tried to ignore him, you really did. But there was something about Dr. Park that made it impossible to ignore him.
“You cold?” He asked, hand hovering over the heater button.
“Mm-mm,” you shook your head. If he insisted on driving you home, you’d survive the car ride in silence you figured.
“Mm-hmm” you nodded. Unsure of what else to do, you tapped your fingers on your lap.
This was going to be the longest car ride ever.
Park drove like the elderly. Slowing down at yellow lights, waiting too long at the stop sign and letting people cross streets. You understood driving safely in the rain, but this was almost like he was taking longer on purpose.
You stared straight ahead the whole time, but you could feel his eyes constantly checking on you. Like he wanted to make sure you were still there.
He cleared his throat, disrupting the awkward silence you decided on.
“Did you see the moon tonight?”
With this rain? You wanted to respond.
“Is it a full moon tonight?”
Since when do you care about moon phases? You bit your tongue.
“Is it,” he paused and stood straighter. “I heard full moons are the worst.” He said tersely.
You whipped your head towards him. This was rich coming from the man who rolled his eyes at your suggestion that the solar eclipse meant new beginnings.
“Heard they’re bad luck too. They bring out the worst in people.”
“No, they don’t.” You finally snapped. “They-“ you cut yourself off, turning back to stare at the road. Damn it. So much for giving him the silent treatment.
Out of the corner of your eye, you caught him smirking. The bastard was smirking while staring straight ahead at the road.
“I shouldn’t talk.” You mumbled as you crossed your arms, slightly eyeing him.
His smirk dropped, replaced with a guilty look on his face. Good. He should feel guilty.
Eventually, he slowed down to a stop in front of your place. He put the gear stick in park and rested his hands on top of the steering wheel, staring straight ahead. In a strangely pensive manner.
You unclicked your seatbelt and grabbed your bag, rushing to end the interaction.
“Thanks for -“ “I just want-“
You both spoke at the same time.
“Thanks for driving me home,” you said earnestly and grabbed the door handle.
He said your name, making you stop to look at him. His hands fell off the steering wheel as he shifted his body towards you.
“Yesterday at lunch” he spoke up as he met your gaze. He exhaled deeply, seemingly gathering his thoughts. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I was…” he paused.
“An asshole,” he nodded in agreement and swallowed forcefully. His eyes studied yours. “I’m sorry.”
You scanned his face, missing his usual scowl and frown. A remorseful look paired with his apology. You leaned your head back on the headrest, feeling your anger slowly simmering down. Perhaps it was best to not end this job assignment so bitterly. That wasn’t really you.
“I should make you earn my forgiveness,” you turned to look at him. “But I forgive you.”
He let a big breath out and scratched his ear. “Good,” he nodded and shifted back to stare straight ahead. His hands hovered over the steering wheel again.
You took that as your cue to leave.
“Thanks again,” you reached for the door handle again. “I guess I’ll see you around.”
“You didn’t eat,” Park stated, quickly turning his head to you.
“You didn’t eat lunch at work.”
“I had a vending machine snack,” you shrugged. “I’m not hungry.”
Like comedic clockwork, your stomach loudly growled. You hung your head shamefully as Park hummed.
Without a warning, he switched the gear stick into drive and pressed on the gas. You jolted at his actions as the car swerved.
“What are you doing?” You asked alarmed.
“You’re hungry.” he explained matter-of-factly.
“Park, stop,” you turned to look at your street as it got farther away. “You were supposed to drive me home.”
“We’re making a stop,” he shrugged.
“We were at our destination already.”
“Put your seatbelt on,” he muttered quickly, gesturing to your seatbelt. You started pulling on it, quick to click it safely. You looked through the side mirror, your street long forgotten. Where was this urgency when he was driving you home earlier?
“This is essentially kidnapping.”
“What’s the nearest restaurant?” Park ignored you as he took his phone off the stand. Swiftly, you reached to steal it from his hand. He whipped his head towards you, with a questioning look on his face.
“I’ll guide you,” you waved him off. The idea forming in your head.
If he wanted to be stubborn. So could you.
“We’re already here,” you pointed ahead.
“We’re leaving,” He looked through his rearview mirror and looked over his shoulder.
“But, I’m hungry,” you insisted.
“We are not having dinner from a McDonald’s drive thru.”
“Not only did you insult me yesterday” You sighed heavily and dramatically. “You’re purposefully starving me too.”
Park narrowed his eyes at you as you smiled at him. He tsked and pulled up closer to the drive thru speaker box.
He ordered, paid and rolled his eyes at your attempt to pay. Handed you the bags with a disapproving shake of his head. He made his way to the parking lot, pulling into an open spot.
You peeked out the window, examining the sky.
“The rain's calmed down. Do you want to eat on that bench?” You pointed at the bench that was slightly covered by the trees. It seemed decent enough.
Park didn’t answer, just stared at you and scanned your body. Twisted his mouth and sighed loudly, clearly bothered by something.
He seemed strict about food in his car, hence your suggestion. Was junk food in his car the tipping point after all these months?
He stretched out his hand and pinched the sleeve of your sweater.
“Your sweater is drenched,” he mumbled.
Park turned around digging through the back seat. He pulled out a hoodie and offered it to you. You raised your eyebrows at him, expectantly.
“Just use my sweater,” he answered like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“You’ll smell like mold if you don’t change.”
“It’ll go with the smell of greasy food.”
He visibly grimaced and placed the sweater on your lap, leaving you no choice.
You unzipped your own sweater, struggling with it. It’s much harder to take off clothes when they’re wet. While you took off your sweater and put on his own, he looked away to text on his phone. A gentlemanly gesture you appreciated.
You exhaled in relief once you adjusted the strings so it would fit your neck better. He was right, it was better to not rot in wet clothes. You threw the wet hoodie on the floor of the car by your feet.
Park met your gaze only to quickly look away.
“So, are we eating outside then?” You grabbed the bags.
He shook his head, “It looks like it could rain again.”
You looked out the window again, the clouds had dispersed and the moon was visible now. Sure, whatever he said.
You started taking out the food, handing him the different items. You unwrapped your own burger and took a bite. Wow, you really were starving. Turning your head to see how he was handling his meal, you caught him staring at you. You chewed slowly and pointed at the burger in his hand.
“Don’t make me eat alone,” you insisted.
He cursed under his breath and unwrapped the burger slowly, taking a small bite out of it.
“Good?” You asked hopefully.
He side eyed you. A quiet “watch it” on his face.
He turned off the car and turned down the windows the tiniest bit, letting the fresh air inside.
“How much do I owe you?” You pulled out your phone.
“Nothing,” He said your name, scoldingly as he pinched the bridge of his nose, “Stop offering, it’s insulting.”
You put your phone down and held your hand up in surrender, “just wondering. Don’t want to get a venmo request later.”
“You’d be surprised by some…guys,”
“Was it Dodger?” He asked mockingly.
“No, this was a different bad date I had.” You shuddered thinking of the dating failure that was Chad.
“But you don’t want to hear all that,” you waved it off, taking another bite of the burger. Yesterday’s events were still fresh on your mind.
“I want to hear.” He gestured at you with his chin. “Tell the story.”
So you told him the story of Chad and how the date went. His eyebrows shot up higher with each detail you added.
“Idiot,” he scoffed at the end of your story.
“What about you? Any bad date stories?”
“No,” he shook his head. “All my dates end well.”
“Oh come on,” you rolled your eyes as he smirked.
“So you’re luckier with the dating thing? Got a girlfriend?” You asked the question that had been killing you since you met him.
“No,” he looked down. “My schedule’s difficult, most women don’t understand.”
The tiniest part of you was hoping for that answer.
“Be honest,” you chose to change the subject. “When’s the last time you had a burger?” You eyed the half-eaten burger in his hand.
“I eat burgers. From restaurants or made at home,” he explained, like it was obvious.
“So, you’re out of your comfort zone right now?”
He frowned at you, then looked down at the burger in his hand.
“Yeah, you don’t strike me as a burgers in the car kind of guy.”
“I’m not,” he scoffed. “But your stomach was loud. I couldn’t send you home like that.”
“You could, though. I’m not your responsibility.”
“My staff is my responsibility,” he dipped his chin.
“I’ll be sure to tell Gilroy, then. That you’ll take him out to dinner next time.” You hid your smile with your hand.
“Not funny,” he pointed a finger at you and took a bite out of the burger.
“He’s staff,” you gestured.
“Only staff I like,” he said in between bites.
“Well, you did call me your favorite nurse earlier.” You teased him.
“I called you my nurse.” He countered.
“Well, I won’t be…anymore.”
Finishing your sentence was a struggle. You wondered if you would ever see him again after tonight.
Park sighed, reaching for his phone. Unlocked it and scrolled for a bit. You didn’t mean to ruin the moment, but for once, you had to be negative.
“When do you start the new job?” He put his phone on his lap.
“I didn’t get a job offer yet.” You shrugged. “Still waiting to hear back. So wish me luck.”
He frowned at you, “you don’t need luck. You’re overqualified, you’ll get it.”
“I hope so, I really want the job.”
You smiled shyly and told him all about it. Why you liked it, why it worked for your mind perfectly, how you found purpose in it. He listened quietly, following along.
“You actually… enjoy working there,” he processed out loud.
Park grabbed his phone from his lap and put it back on the stand. For a second there, he almost looked disappointed. Sad even.
“I will admit, though. Out of all the doctors I’ve worked with…” you tried to switch the somber mood. “You might be my favorite.”
His back stood straighter at your words, like pride was swelling in his chest.
“I mean no other doctor would keep me fed, drive me home or let me borrow his sweater.” You gestured to his sweater. “I might just have to keep it. It’s good quality.”
“It suits you,” he said quietly as he stretched out his hand and messed with the neck strings, straightening them. You hoped he couldn’t feel your heart speeding up at his actions.
“But you gotta give it back,” he added more seriously.
“I don’t know, Park. I th-“
“Brendon,” he cut you off, dropping his hand. “Call me Brendon. We’re not in the hospital.”
“Can I just call you Shark like everyone else does?”
“No, you can’t” he balled up the empty burger wrap and tossed it in the bag. “Sunny.”
“No,” you shook your head. “You can’t call me that.”
“You don’t like Sunny?” He quirked an eyebrow.
He huffed loudly, holding back a laugh.
“Your buddies in the ED call you that,” he spat out.
“You had to be there to get it,” you teased him. “Call me something else… Shark.”
The side of his mouth curled up.
It shocked you. How quickly you two settled back into your old banter. Like nothing had happened yesterday.
“How’d that start anyway? The nickname?” You asked him.
He shook his head in amusement and told you the story. Surprisingly. It started back in his undergrad days and followed him to this day. Park told you a full story about himself with details. As many details as a man like him would give. You couldn’t believe your ears.
“That’s where it came from?” you rubbed your face with your palm in disbelief.
“You can’t tell anyone,” he warned you.
“I promise,” you extended your pinky towards him. He enveloped his pinky in yours and you promised each other.
You peeked at his palm as you shook his pinky, he quickly pulled away.
“Nice try,” he said sarcastically.
“Just a peek,” You balled up the burger trash and tossed it in the bag. “It won’t even take a minute.”
“No,” he shook his head and closed his eyes.
“First, you insult me. Then you tried to starve me.”
“I already apologized,” he said defensively.
“I’m thinking of retracting my apology.”
“You’re milking it at this point,” he shook his head. He huffed loudly, like it was the biggest inconvenience.
Begrudgingly, he extended his palm. You giggled as you held his cold palm in yours. Frankly, your knowledge was limited, but you were curious either way.
“Oh, I see. You’re a complicated one,” you lied as you examined his palm.
“This line is your life line,” you traced the line slowly from his thumb to his wrist. “You're gonna live a long healthy life for sure.”
You leaned closer to his palm, struggling to inspect it in the lowly lit car. The light above you turned on. You looked up to catch Park’s other hand retracting from the light switch. The light perfectly shined on his veined arm as he put it down.
“Go on,” he lifted his eyebrows.
“This one is your Mercury line,” you traced the line under his pinky to his wrist, then lightly went over the small branches extending upwards . “You got a good sense of business. Success and opportunities coming your way.”
“Oof, but this one” You looked up at him, he was staring at your face already.
You tsked, “you see it?” With your chin, you gestured to his palm.
He leaned forward, his forehead almost bumping yours. “Sure,” he said softly.
“This one means you struggle with expressing yourself,” you smiled at him teasingly, “but you already knew that.”
He looked up from his palm to you. His gaze was more intense than it had ever been, making it harder to breathe.
“Hmm,” you pretended to think. “I gotta think about that.” You absentmindedly traced his palm. His fingers twitched at your movements.
He huffed in amusement, his body still close to yours. You couldn’t take it anymore and you slowly dropped his hand. He retracted it and put it back on his lap, refusing to look anywhere but your eyes.
You broke away first and you looked out the window. Trying to take deep breaths and calm your nerves.
“Can we turn on the AC?” Your body felt warm.
Park nodded and turned on his car.
You had been out with Park for five hours now.
“That’s the time?” You exclaimed. “I shouldn’t be out at this time, I should be in bed.”
“I kept you out pretty late. Sorry.” Park said without remorse in his voice this time.
Park jerked his head back in confusion, shifting the gear stick.
“You know, when all the ghosts come out to haunt the living.”
Park slowly turned to you, seemingly holding in a laugh. He put his arm on the back of your headrest, looking over his shoulder to back out of the parking space. The gesture made you dizzy.
“Let’s get you to bed then,” the side of his lips slowly curled up. “Ghost Girl.”
“No,” you covered your face. “That doesn’t even make sense.”
“The ghost references, the palm readings. You did it to yourself.”
“Can I get another one instead?”
He didn’t answer you, just smirked, as he drove away from the parking lot.
Park drove into your street to drop you off…for the second time that night. He slowed to a stop and parked the car.
“Thanks again for everything” You smiled as you leaned on the headrest. “I guess I’ll see you… eventually.”
“Eventually? You gotta return my sweater on Monday.” He said, confused.
“I won’t be here Monday or the whole week actually,” you revealed.
“Got bridesmaid duties and a bunch of outings.”
“What kind of outings?” he asked suspiciously.
“Oh, the usual. Bar hopping, skiing the alpines, bungee jumping,” you joked.
“You are not going bungee-jumping,” he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Why? It’s fun,” you teased.
“Do you know how many bones you can break from bungee jumping?”
“Good thing I got me a great orthopedic surgeon,” you tapped his elbow.
He sighed with a shake of his head, extending his hand.
Warily, you unlocked it and handed it to him.
He took it from you and started typing away on your contacts. His phone on the stand lit up, showing your number. He hung up and saved his number as a new contact, then handed it back to you.
“Brendon Park - orthopedic surgeon.” You read his contact name. “So formal…” you unclicked your seatbelt.
“They’ll need to know who to call to put you back together,” he tilted his head at you.
“Morbid,” you snorted, putting your phone away and grabbing your bag. You pushed the door open and stepped out. With your hand hovering over the car door, you leaned your head down.
“Good night…Shark.” You smiled coyly.
“Good night, Ghost Girl,” he responded.
You closed the door shut and walked away.
You were somehow right. It was the longest car ride ever.
A/N: this is the longest chapter I’ve ever written. 3.2k words of mostly dialogue. My thumbs are stuck in typing mode.
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