vuhyuh

yolanda is used to keeping all her relationships conventional. she prefers lust over love, sex over cuddles, dirty talk over declarations of love. that's who she is. that's what she's been telling herself for the past few months when she begins to feel her chest tighten uncomfortably when she looks at you. it hurts, right?

it was all absurdly stupid, because you were the complete opposite of dr. garcia. you were kind, sweet, and soft; it irritated her so much that you barely swore when she couldn't keep her mouth shut. yolanda was rude, sarcastic, and made offensive jokes. she frowned when you smiled, rolled her eyes when you laughed, and left the room when you stayed. you were the good girl. she was the bad guy. perhaps that's what sheand santos found in common?

yolanda began noticing her feelings long before she actually acknowledged them to herself. the corners of her lips would lift whenever you entered the room or lingered gaze on her for more than a few seconds. she loved teaching you things, she loved the way your eyes lit up when you learned something new, jotting it down in your notebook with a silly kitten sticker on it. the first time she saw him, she couldn't keep silent again.

"are you seriously bringing a notepad here… with a cat sticker on it?" she folded her arms, grinning and looking down at this thing. you looked up, tilting your head slightly and smiling, but the smile didn't reach your eyes. "i find it easier to process information from paper," you replied softly, but a little dryly, finding her teasing uninspiring. for the first time in her entire career at the hospital, she felt ashamed of her own words.

the next time she explained something to you about the structure of the mesenteric artery, you stood silently and nodded, diligently memorizing the information. garcia was slightly confused. were you really going to give up your little habit just because of her words?

when she asked "where's your stupid pink notebook?" you shrugged with a slight smile, saying that you should learn to absorb information immediately, rather than memorizing it from a written text. that same day, after her shift, she caught up with you in the parking lot, apologizing and telling you that your "stupid" notebook wasn't stupid at all. you smiled. the next time, you pulled it out of your scrub pocket again.

after yolanda learned to filter her sarcastic jokes in your presence, she took things to the next level and started talking to you more. lightly, unobtrusively. she asked about your zodiac sign, your favorite tv series, and even which of the bronte sisters you liked best, because she heard you mention it during a conversation with victoria. she actually started to hear a lot. garcia managed to do this right during surgery, smiling when you raised your eyebrows. you looked at her with a puzzled expression, holding a scalpel in your hand. then you started smiling back, always.

the more she talked to you, the more you discussed it with victoria, unknowingly biting your bottom lip as you thought about her. every evening after work, you'd settle down on the couch in front of the tv, muttering something about how weirdly attractive garcia was and how you still couldn't believe she'd apologized to you.

"i don't think it's weird. isn't she your type?" victoria asked, opening the ice cream you were sharing. of course, she'd noticed it long before you had. "i don't like people who are rude, narcissistic and so sarcastic… and pompous! and that's exactly what she is. and anyway… just because she's attractive doesn't mean i like her. she's my mentor." you lean back against the armrest of the sofa, sighing heavily, causing javadi to chuckle.

"opposites attract. and i don't think she's that rough with you." she smiles, and then you grab an ice cream scoop and hit her hand.

after the conversations, the touching started. professional. of course, it was all strictly professional. that's when some people started noticing it. noticing you.

somehow, yolanda's hands were always on you. why? you don't know. you're not her type. and she's not yours. definitely.

every time she passed you, garcia would place her hand on your lower back, as if the rest of the hallway weren't empty. as if she couldn't pass within a meter of you. you shook those thoughts from your head every time the warmth from her fingertips lingered on your skin.

when she praised you, her hand would land on your shoulder, your wrist, your shoulder blades, squeezing gently before she left, lingering on you for one last look you wouldn't notice. but she would notice that bright smile lighting up your face.

she always asked you first about a patient's diagnosis and treatment plan. she inquired about you every day. not out of politeness, but because she was interested. and when you told her about how your cat peed in your shoes, she laughed heartily, without even knowing what exactly she found funny. god, she was being so stupid.

she first invited you for coffee on her day off. as a friend. just an informal meeting to discuss the most ordinary things. sitting across from her for several hours, talking about everything under the sun, you realized you truly enjoyed the company of this seemingly cold woman. then she realized she was starting to fall in love with you.

when yolanda left a cup of your favorite coffee at the nurses' counter, not only victoria and dana but many others began to notice. people started to notice the glances you exchanged, the way you giggled at her silly jokes, and the way her eyes lit up every time you did it. you never talked about your feelings, but after a while, it became commonplace for others. they saw something neither you nor garcia saw. they saw love.

but she knew for sure: her heart was slowly passing into your hands. this feeling was too strange, too new, too strong. she was used to 'loving' someone because they were good in bed or because they filled a gap in her schedule. because they kissed well or moaned beautifully. but she had never kissed you. and she had never heard your moans, never dragged you into bed, because for the first time in her life, she felt like she wanted to do everything right. because you were good. too good for her.

she noticed how you interacted with others so warmly and easily, as if your words could heal wounds and resurrect the dead with their caress. you were so attentive to everyone, yet somehow managed to make her feel special every time you gave her a glance or a smile. the feeling in her chest was so palpable that she had to leave the room, smiling and hiding from everyone. and it happened every time.

after months of going to cafes together on weekends or to bars after work, where she always insisted on buying drinks, yolanda finally thought about asking you out. a real date. she wants to see you in a dress, wants to know you'll take the time to get ready for her. she wants to feel your kiss on her cheek after a first date, leaving her soul naked and her heart aching for more. she wants to take it slow. to do it right.

but sometimes life has other plans.

you bite your lip thoughtfully, your fingers tapping lightly on the keyboard as you fill out the last few patient charts, waiting for the end of your shift, which is about an hour away. perlah appears before you unexpectedly, resting her elbows on the counter. at first, she simply looks at you.

"hey, you want something?" you look up from your computer screen and turn your attention to her. "aren't you and garcia together?" the question catches you off guard, your eyebrows rising slightly and your mouth hanging open as you search the depths of your mind for the right words. you've never even mentioned anything between you. "no, we—i mean… no. no, we're not together. just friends. why do you ask?"

perlah shrugs, her gaze sliding from you to the nearest room, stopping there for a few seconds until you follow her. "so she really does have something with santos. they're inseparable," she says with a hint of disappointment.

your brow furrows as you notice how close yolanda actually stands to trinity, their shoulders touching, the smiles so effortlessly plastered on their faces. your stomach clenches so hard you feel like you might throw up just thinking about it.

"what are you talking about? they're not together. definitely not. trinity's her resident…why would you even think that?" you look at perlah again, despair in your voice, which she notices, but you don't. pity appears in her eyes, along with curiosity. she knew that look very well.

"people talk a lot. and they seem very close," she nods again as garcia's hand covers trinity's, showing her how much pressure to apply to the incision. the sight made your throat tighten, preventing you from breathing. you excused yourself and stood up, leaving without other explanation, until the silence of the empty stairwell enveloped you, allowing you to take a deep breath. this day had become a challenge you hadn't expected.

after that, noticing their interactions became much easier. the conversations grew louder, every word causing pain in your chest. every rumor left its painful mark on your heart. and as much as you wanted to tell garcia everything, you knew you had no right to be jealous, angry, or disappointed, because nothing between you had ever been official, serious, or real. you hadn't even kissed, so what feelings could there be? you just needed to stop thinking so much.

but you couldn't shield yourself from the thoughts. every time you looked at trinity, you felt like you were looking at a better version of yourself, wondering what wasn't enough for yolanda to choose you. was trinity funnier, braver, smarter? was she more brash and had a tougher personality? didn't she write her notes in a silly notebook? you didn't know how she was any better. you knew you'd spent the last eight months slowly falling in love with someone whose gaze hadn't lingered on you.

maybe yolanda didn't want a simple girl. maybe she wanted someone complex and ambiguous. you couldn't give her that.

and despite all the rumors being about trinity and yolanda, everyone was looking at you. no one dared speak, but everyone knew. everyone saw. your shining eyes grew duller, your charming smile became strained, your voice quieter, more unsure. you knew they knew. but that's no reason to become weak and keep breaking your heart because you've been pushed into the background once again.

you told yourself you'd quickly forget what was so tenderly beginning to blossom between you and yolanda. you told yourself you'd remain strong, indifferent, just the same…

until one evening, you burst into tears in victoria's arms, soaking her shirt with your tears as her hands gently caressed your back. it was the first time she'd seen you cry and it made her cry too. but that evening, she stayed strong so you wouldn't have to be.

after that moment, you never talked about yolanda again. not in your head, not with anyone else. you were sure she was so busy with her new girlfriend that she wouldn't even notice that the coffee she left for you was untouched. she wouldn't notice that you no longer smiled at her or looked back. you ignored her sunday texts asking to go out for coffee, and then lied that you were so busy you didn't see the notification. but she noticed. she noticed absolutely everything.

a month has passed. the room is bustling, everything revolves around the patient with a pulmonary embolism, and her hand lands on your shoulder blades again as she asks what needs to be done, calling you by name, as she always did. you used to love it, very much.

but now, both her touch and her words make your chest tighten and ache. you take a step aside, clearing your throat and distancing yourself from her. meanwhile, trinity decides to take the initiative, answering the question in detail and already smiling softly, as if waiting for her praise. you almost chuckle, but garcia looks genuinely pissed.

"if i wanted to ask you, i…" yolanda starts, but you cut her off almost immediately, shaking your head. "no, actually, trinity said it all correctly, dr. garcia."

almost everyone in the room glances up at you for a split second. perlah bites her lower lip. you always called each other by your first names. this hit yolanda harder than she'd like to think. she sigh, continuing her work in silence. no longer asking questions until you were finished and left the room as quickly as possible, because being so close to her was torture for your poor heart. your feet carried you to the familiar stairwell, which was almost never occupied. unfortunately, a few moments later you heard footsteps behind you.

"hey," yolanda's voice now sounds quieter and more cautious than usual. it lacks that pomposity and boundless confidence. few people can do that. notice. but you can. "hey, are you okay?" she pauses briefly, searching for the right words. "lately, you've been… not yourself."

she approaches slowly, but you carefully step aside, leaving enough space between you to avoid trying to smell her perfume, which you've memorized.

yolanda frowns but doesn't have time to say anything. "what do you mean? i'm exactly the same. i'm just a little more tired," you reply, hiding how hard you're biting the inside of your cheek. she gives a bitter smile.

"tired? stop talking bullshit. people don't get tired like that. you don't touch the coffee i leave for you, you ignore my messages, you call me dr. garcia, seriously? you don't even look at me." her voice rises slightly, her brows furrow. her fierce gaze is fixed directly on yours, and her breathing quickens. she was scared. but you were in too much pain.

"i'm sorry, but do i have to explain my behavior to you? am i your girlfriend or something? no, dr. garcia, we're nothing to each other." you blurt out the words like boiling water, regretting them the second they leave your lips. something in her eyes shifts from confusion and anger to pain and hurt, causing her to involuntarily take a step back. yolanda never thought you'd say something like that. this is the first time she's ever heard you raise your voice at anyone. and it's hard. "don't you fucking dare say that."

you swallow hard, turning your head away from her and sighing through your nose. you don't want to bring up her relationship with trinity because you don't know if it would be worse to find out the truth or to remain in dark, believing rumors and torturing yourself. torturing her. your chest begins to fill with doubt and a new kind of pain—guilt. because you were never obligated to each other. she never said she would be yours or tried to make you hers. she has the right to be happy with whoever she wants. you shake your head.

"look, i… um, i shouldn't talk to you like that. you're my boss, and i'm sorry i'm being so rude." you dare to look at yolanda again as you say this, then walk past her to exit the stairwell, which now felt so cramped you couldn't breathe.

garcia's hand grabs your wrist as you reach for the door handle, pushing you roughly against her body until your chest is pressed against her ribs. your breath catches in your throat. "what the hell are you even talking about? what in the world had to happen for the woman who looked at me like that started saying that we are nothing to each other?" her words hurt more than you would like to admit.

as you turn away from her, trying to take a step back and rip your hand from her grip, yolanda practically growls, fed up with your bullshit. the next second, your back hits the cold wall. this time, she grips your chin hard enough to force your eyes up to her face, looking like a wounded deer.

"answer me when i speak to you." her eyes burn with a determination that makes your stomach turn in every way. the warmth of her body causes a deadly poison to permeate your bones.

"let me go" your eyes begin to fill with tears. "answer. me."

"i know about you and trinity!" you blurt out sharply and loudly, closing your eyes like a child, hoping that when you open them, yolanda will already be gone.

and the warmth of her body did indeed leave as she took a step back, stunned. "what?"

there's a long pause between you as you gather the courage to look at garcia, while she tries to process your words and figure out what the fuck you mean. it takes a moment to continue talking.

"the whole hospital is talking about you." you speak more quietly, pursing your lips and remaining standing near the wall. "about you and santos. together."

her expression goes unreadable for a few seconds that make you hold your breath. then she grins. she fucking grins.

"i didn't say anything funny," you cross your arms, suddenly feeling small in front of her. the thick air begins to thin, and yolanda takes a deep breath, after which her eyes seem much, much calmer. and somehow, that calms you too. she speaks quietly.

"so that's why you behaved like that? avoiding me and refusing to even look me in the eye?" she tilts her head to the side, carefully studying your reaction. for some reason, it amused her. but right now, you're not interested in your reasons.

"are you together?" you finally push away from the wall, allowing yourself to look into her eyes. "don't answer a question with a question." yolanda takes a step forward, still keeping a distance between you.

"i will answer as the way i want. are you together?" garcia stares at you until her hand comes up to rest on your jawline. the touch is burning. "no."

the whirlpool that had enveloped your heart for the past few weeks dissipates with one word from her. your lips part in a silent question, your fingertips begin to tremble. you shake your head weakly, not breaking the thread of your gaze for a second. "wait, but i thought…"

you don't have time to finish your sentence, because the second you try to protest, yolanda leans in to press her lips to yours in a long-awaited kiss. her taste instantly penetrates your skin, becoming addictive. you don't respond for the first few seconds, stunned by her bold move, but as soon as the realization dawns on you, your hands slide up her body, your fingers wrapping around the back of her neck for a few seconds and then your arms wrap completely around it.

one moan turns into several as yolanda places her hands on your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies merge. she takes control of your mouth, memorizing every bit of your taste, kissing you more desperately and intensely with each passing second, forcing the air in your lungs to run out too quickly.

she sighs heavily, her forehead pressed against yours, palms flattened on your back. her breath is hot against your skin as she hugs you tighter, burying her face in your neck.