adulterousbitch:
Trepidation filled her heart as she approached his room—-the same feeling she’d come to associate with every time she was about to knowingly step into his presence—-but she pushed past it as was customary for the once upon a time couple. He’d been shot, after all. Nearly died. She owed him at least a hello and a ‘glad you didn’t die’ before she went on her merry way. Still, she haunted his doorway for a moment, simply leaning into the door frame and waiting for his blue eyes to catch hers. Those same butterflies always came up to greet her when he did.
His smirk was met with one of her own, spreading slowly as she appreciated his tone. “No, but I did manage to snag you a sponge from the scrub sink.” A huff of air expelled mirthfully from her lips as she pushed herself upright, arms crossed over her chest as she cleared her throat and dared approach. “We both know I’m not here to tell you how I’m doing, Derek.” The redhead paused at his bedside with an air of (perhaps misplaced) loyalty. “How are you?”
synapses of their PAST flew through his mind. he’s gone through hell and back with this woman, and since their separation, there’s been about three trips back and forth ever since — - for the both of them. there’s no awkwardness between the two anymore; it’s all on the table. there’s no secret feelings or twisted secrets. and boy, was he glad that was the case. ‘ i was shot in the chest by a man whose wife i’d killed — - on all levels except emotional and physical, you could say i’m pretty PEACHY. ‘ the air is released from his lungs before he turns his head slightly. inhale. ‘ i’m on the road to recovery. now i have a solid reasoning why patients get so fed up with doctors and their optimism. it’s EXHAUSTING. ‘