He didn’t buy flowers.
But one night he just picked up the hair brush off the bed and started brushing my hair.
We hardly ever went out for dinner.
But he sat on the cold tiles next to the bath,
feeding me toasted cheese. My wet hands,
wrinkling at the finger tips in the water.
I spend two hours with my make up. He says:
“Oh is base that stuff that makes you look a bit pale sometimes?”
But in the morning, he’d keep his face in my pussy. He’d go deaf when I tell him:
I think I just can’t come today.
He wasn’t impressed at my tight blue dress.
But he held my face to the sky, as he filled my mind with thoughts.
He pulled my hands from my ears, as he whispered to me in the dark
his secrets about myself
He didn’t complete me.
Quite the opposite. I’m terrified as he rips apart the puzzle.
He’s got a mirror to my face, and a flash light shining in my eyes.
I’m interrogated by his love.
Somedays I feel like a dream house.
You buy it, only to renovate every room.
The smell of wet paint clogging in my lungs.
I’m horrified by your love, your need to read and reread
every page of me.
But you hold me right through the night.
You keep wanting to see me
Naked. The answers that satisfy other people
don’t satisfy you. You capture my imagination,
as you bend me over the kitchen counter.
You don’t buy flowers. Were never interested in poetry,
But you’ve started reading it
I feel like bitty would be an awful person to be around when he is sick, not in that he milks it for every dime but that he blatantly denies he is sick and/or refuses help from other people.
Like that saying about nurses being the worst patients. that’s bitty ‘no I do not need help thank you very much I have a sniffle not the plague’ ‘don’t you dare come near me with that bottle of lies I do not need cough medicine, I need some peace and quiet and a little sunshine’
‘I’m fine’ ‘You have a fever’ ‘I’m southern we run hot’ ‘You look really pale bits, you should lie down’ ‘you look a little rude maybe you should stay in your own lane’ ‘Bits’ ‘Jack’
Jin: Jin had heard that the new doctor at his practice was pretty, but he wasn’t expecting you to be this stunning, wonderful, mind-bogglingly beautiful.
“Dr. Kim?” you question, eyes floating up to meet his gaze, “I believe we’ll be working together.” In the morning sunlight your hair is gold dipped, your skin is glowing with topaz. The doctor’s coat hugs you like it was made with you in mind, like you were the one this practice has been waiting for - you’re the one Jin’s been waiting for. He has to grapple with his sanity for a couple of seconds. So he’ll be working with you. Together in the same room. For the next few months. No big deal. He can handle that.
What he can’t handle is you catching hold of his arm, and asking: “Doctor, are you okay? You look a bit pale.”
“Oh, no, I’m fine,” Jin tries to convince you, but a concerned hand is being placed on his forehead, your other hand falling to the pulse on his wrist.
“Hmm… increased temperature and elevated heart-rate. Perhaps you should sit down for a few minutes and let me handle our first patient,” you suggest, worry welling in your irises, “We don’t want you getting sick.”
But Jin recognises that these aren’t the symptoms of illness. This is something else entirely - a virus that’s caught up his heart, rather than his immune system. Maybe sitting down wouldn’t hurt. He just needs a few minutes to recover from the shock of your touch.
Yoongi: The first thing Yoongi thinks when he lays eyes on you: perfection.
You open the door to him, eyes bright, smile brighter, and he knows he has a problem - a problem that involves his heart thudding, and his palms growing clammy. He won’t call it love, but it could turn that way if he isn’t careful.
You motion him into your office, and inside he’s met with the smell of oranges and roses, and gentle light filtering in through billowing curtains. “Please take a seat.” Your voice is so sugary sweet, it gives Yoongi a kick, like downing a bottle of cola. Ridiculous. How can someone he just met have such an impact on him? He needs to calm himself down, he needs to stop himself from falling for a stranger. He knows nothing about you - apart from the fact that you’re his doctor, and that you like the smell of oranges and roses, and that you wear mismatched socks. This observation has him stifling a chuckle. That is unbearably cute. But no… he can’t fall in love with someone based on sock choice.
As you riffle in the cabinet for his records you begin humming. Is that? There’s no way that’s- But yes, the familiar tune is distinct in his ears - a song by his favourite band. Well that’s just great. Now he has to fall in love with you.
Hoseok: Hoseok has always hated waiting in the doctor’s office - he
hates the invasive smell of sanitizer, he hates the needles that
glint maliciously, and he hates the grotesque posters on the walls,
warning him of what will happen if he smokes, or drinks, or doesn’t eat his
five-a-day – all of it a reminder of the pain he associates with the hospital.
Dulling anaesthetic and a lollipop at the end will never make up for the trauma
he’s suffered here. The sight of the immaculate white waiting room is enough to
send his heart stuttering. Today is no exception. As he sits, waiting in one the
bum numbing seats in the lobby, the butterflies start scattering and fluttering in
his stomach, the same as always.
Then he sees you. And the butterflies started flitting for
an entirely different reason.
“Jung Hoseok?” You stick your head around the door, a piece
of paper in your hand and a chewed pen stuck between a set of strawberry-stained lips.
Your hair is loosely tied up so that stray wisps drift around your face like
you just surfaced from a dream. The white coat floating around you adds
to the heavenly look, and as the light shining from your room emits a halo
about you, Hoseok is convinced he’s found an angel walking on earth.
Standing at the call of his name, he gives you his best
smile as you invite him into your office. The syringes and the bad tasting
medicine are forgotten. All Hoseok can think is: Would it be too forward to ask you out for coffee after the check-up?
Namjoon: “Kim Namjoon?”
Namjoon’s head snaps up. Finally, he can get out of the
stuffy waiting room, get checked up, and get out of here. But when he looks up,
and sees his new doctor, his muscles go slack.
You’re wrapped up in your doctor’s coat (which is a little
too big), a set of glasses perched on your nose, and a healthy flush padding your cheeks. “It’s Namjoon, right?” you ask, offering a smile his way. It’s the
smile that catches him most off guard. Your eyes are suddenly flickering with
light, dancing and playing, as your cheeks dimple and your nose scrunches.
“Y-yes, that’s me.” He scrambles to get up. Bang! In a desperate motion to reach
your office his leg clashes with the arm of his chair. That’ll bruise later.
Your hand falls across your mouth, and a few hiccups of laughter escape. Namjoon’s cheeks flare. At least he got
to see your smile again.
“Are you okay?” you ask, holding back to check
that he isn’t hurt.
“I don’t know. I think I need a doctor.”
“Well as luck would have it, I’m just what you need.”
Jimin: Falling for you is a bad idea. That doesn’t stop Jimin from
Maybe it was the way you called his name in the waiting
room, peeking shyly over your papers. Maybe it was the way you asked him about
his day, making him feel like he was at home, instead of in a doctor’s office.
Or maybe it was just the way your eyes crinkled up when you smiled.
Whatever it was, Jimin was hooked – so much so, that when
you tell him, “It looks like you’re healthy. My work here is done,” he’s
desperate that the check-up doesn’t end.
Too bad. You’re sweeping him out the door, giving him that crinkled
smile, and an ‘It was lovely to meet you’ and that’s it. The end. That was
probably the last time he’ll see you. After all, you’re only a trainee doctor.
By the time his next check-up is due, you’ll probably be away at a bigger, better practice, moving up in the world. Why hadn’t he asked your first
name? Why hadn’t he asked you out for coffee?
He spins around at the sound of his name. You’re standing in
front of him, grinning. In your outstretched hand is a lollipop. “Something for
being such a good patient,” you say, “It’s the last one from the jar. Can you
take it off my hands?”
A smile eases along Jimin’s lips, and his heart rises out of
his chest. Just one more chance.
“Only if you allow me to take you for coffee.”
The lollipop is slipped into his hand, and the deal is
Taehyung: How long is it acceptable to stare before it gets creepy? Because
Taehyung’s gaze has been tied to you for a while now. And he can’t look away.
“So, Taehyung, was it?” You turn back to him, notes in hand,
and a warm smile on your face. Somehow it reminds him of downy duvets and lying
in late. Yes, and afternoons spent in pyjamas. And familiar
kisses in the dark, where there’s no hesitation. And
inside jokes, where you only have to give that one look to bring laughter
fizzing up. It reminds him of apple pie crusts, and windy days where the sky
turns yellow, and half-finished love letters. All that in one smile.
Is he supposed to be talking? You’re looking at him expectantly, waiting on an answer.
“Sorry,” he says, pulling his eyes away to rest on the
floor. Looking at you is dangerous.
“I was just asking if you’ve been having any unusual symptoms
lately,” you say. Taehyung looks back – a mistake. You’re still smiling, and he’s
stuck staring, again.
“No, no odd symptoms,” he manages to say. (Apart from what you’re doing to me.)
You laugh. Had he said the last part out loud?
He had. He had, hadn’t he?
Jungkook: Well, this is just what Jungkook needs. As if the stress of
visiting the doctors’ isn’t bad enough, now he has to deal with you as well: You, with your clicking Ironman pen. You, with your stash of candies
sticking out of the top drawer of your desk. You, with the windows thrown open
even though it’s raining outside, ‘just because’. The last thing Jungkook needs is a
crush. Yet here he is, blushing every time you speak to him, which is
unfortunate, since it’s your job to ask him questions and make sure he’s okay.
“So, have you been having any problems? Any aches or pains?”
Blush. Mumbled answer.
“Have you had any recent infections?”
More blushing. More mumbled answering.
“Okay, thank you,” You check over his records. “From
what I can tell you’re totally fit and healthy.” You give him a thumbs-up, which
results in more blushing. “All I need to do now is check your blood pressure,
and we’re good to go.”
Jungkook complies, rolling up his sleeve so you can strap the
blood pressure monitor to him. The way that your brows screw together as you concentrate
has him reeling with giddiness. With your eyes off him, and the probing
questions finished, he can finally appreciate how pretty you are, without his
eyes instinctively darting from yours. Really, developing a new crush isn’t so
bad. Not when it’s you. And not when you’re giving him encouraging smiles. And…
is that a blush resting on your cheeks while you fiddle with the monitor
strapped to his muscles? Very promising.
Tamlin: “Lucien and I will be traveling to the border to meet with Hybern’s emissaries at dawn. I’d like for you to begin preparations for a feast to honor our guests.”
Lucien: *shocked* “Tam, you never said they’d be staying here. At the manor. Why didn’t you discuss this with me?”
Tamlin: *growling* “I am the High Lord of this court, Lucien, and you will remember your place.”
Feyre: *flashes shadow talons at Lucien, smirking wickedly*
Lucien: *glares, a bit pale*
Tamlin: “Now, Feyre, I expect the preparations to be completed and ready for my approval when I return.”
Feyre: *shyly, submissively* “Tamlin, may I accompany you to the border? You said you would allow me to be more involved.” *bats lashes*
Tamlin: “Your presence will not be needed, Feyre. You will stay here.”
Rhys: “Here we go.”
Feyre: *brushing against Tamlin’s mind* I am sunshine and flowers, a cool breeze dancing in a meadow. I am birth and life and growth. I am a trickling brook, a pool of starlight in the woods. You know me. I am Spring. I am Spring. “Feyre could indeed be useful when we meet with the emissaries. Perhaps if I involve her in some of our plans, she’ll begin to trust me again.”
Tamlin: *face relaxing* “Feyre, I’ve changed my mind. Perhaps, just this one time, you may come along.”
Lucien: *gaping, eye darting between Feyre and Tamlin* “Bu-” *sighs*
When she’d left the house that morning, he’d been fine. He was a bit pale, but Tina had been sure that it was nothing more than his lack of sleep (what that man got up to in his case at night, she would never know!).
“You alright, Newt?” she asked, frowning at him.
“I’m fine, thank you.” he said, forcing a smile that felt a bit insincere.
Tina raised her eyebrows, but didn’t say anything else. The rest of her day was spent chasing a goblin and a house elf around the third floor of the MACUSA headquarters, before arresting a total of five individuals. She didn’t have time to spare a thought for the odd behaviors of Mr. Scamander.