#hvzeful

[loredrops]

closed for @hvzeful. continued from here.

at first, winnie only watches the places julia’s fingers touched. pale half moons where the warmth lingers against her knuckle. she wants to laugh at herself, pediatrician’s lollipop logic, — yet the laugh won’t rise. the empty side of her stethoscope still presses an arc into her collarbone; forty five minutes ago she was pressing a chest tube into a seventeen year old who smelled like engine oil, promising aloud what she never should have promised. hang on, kid, i’ve got you. and then — flatline, re flooded field, the low, stupid hush that only means it’s over. “human. right. that inconvenient qualifier.” she eases down into the visitor chair — too fast, knees knock the metal desk. she forces her shoulders back anyway, as though posture could keep her from unraveling. "you know somedays i wonder — what even the point of all this?"

[lvciddreamt]

@hvzeful

forehead creased in surprise. “you had a crush on me?” claire wasn’t used to hearing that from any of her former classmates other than the sleaze-bag guys she’d run into over the years, drunk at bars and keen to try and go home with her. needless to say, she hadn’t been flattered. “wow. i wouldn’t have guessed.” gave the other a brief but shameless once-over. “always took you for the type who’d be into…i don’t know, pretentious spoken-word poets or something.” not that she’d thought about her much to begin with, honestly. claire had been far too wrapped up in her own world to notice marnie. the brunette never stood a chance, not even with those earnest brown eyes of hers.

[egotistival]

henry was a precocious ten year old. when he was born, they formed a very deep connection with one another; something kate was thankful for as it had never happened like that with anyone else. maybe because he was her son, it was inherent; blood related and prophecy foretold. before he could walk, he'd expressed an interest in music and kate had fed that habit; he now played piano, guitar, and the drums. docile sounds of clair de lune filled the foyer as his hands lingered lightly over the keys, kate stood nearby, facing the room, and watching the reactions of the people nearby. she was proud of him, and herself a little, admittedly. she had taught him how to play, and he played flawlessly for the crowd, not a hint of embarrassment playing out on his features; just the same intense focus his mother carried. and kate... well, she was intense. she'd been called this for as long as she could remember. when she set her sights on something - or someone - little could stand in her way of achieving it or them.

henry's father could never seem to come to terms with it. he shied away when kate really sought someone who would give it right back to her. it was the catalyst of their marriage, the reason for the divorce. of course, kate had secrets too; her sexuality was one of those. but she thought that, once upon a time, she'd be happy hiding that within the walls of his family home if it meant someone could meet her intensity. but she'd put her faith in the wrong person. the early days had been good, but then henry had come and he had started shying away and giving under the weight of her heel. and that was not... that was never what kate wanted. she desired an equal.

eyes scanning the crowd, they stopped.. and lingered over her husbands new girlfriend. riley williams. kate had done a deep dive on riley before she even came to the house; scanning old social media stuff, reading her wiki, paying an embarrassingly amount of attention to her instagram page. a sigh worked its way from her, shoulders sinking just as the song came to its natural end. her hands rose to clap but her eyes remained fixed on the object of her true attention. she reminded herself to look away. later on, when people had worked their way out to get refreshments and henry had stopped accosting her for her attention and went to play with the other children present, she found her way over to the refreshments table. riley was there. kate's eyes fell over the woman's back first, before she stepped forward and reached past riley's side for a flute of champagne. she was slow to move back, her front brushing the woman's back for a moment too long before she backed away and turned, sitting her gaze onto the crowd again. she could still smell the other woman's perfume in her nose from the almost-embrace. "riley, isn't it?" her gaze found henry first, a slight flicker of fondness in her eyes as she watched him help a younger child across the backyard. still, her real attention was seated on the woman beside her. she did not introduce herself, and instead brought the champagne to her lips to take a small sip. @hvzeful

[loredrops]

continued from here.

of course she’s right. but knowing isn’t the same as feeling. “human,” she repeats, voice low, almost testing the word for splinters. “feels like a lousy consolation prize.” still, the instinct to retreat tugs at her spine. be small. be silent. don’t bleed where anyone can see. work had never been a compartment for winnie—it was the marrow inside every bone, the steady metronome that ordered her days when everything else felt dissonant. long before residency turned nights into a smear of caffeine and adrenaline, she’d learned that if she moved fast enough, if she stacked task upon task until her lungs whistled, the hollow ache of unasked questions went silent. now, being told to step back, to breathe like an ordinary person, feels like prying muscle from bone; without the din of monitors and the rush of saving someone, the quiet is deafening, and she’s forced to meet the version of herself that exists when the scrubs come off, an unarmored silhouette she’s terrified might disappear in the dark. winnie inhales, steadying. “i know perfection’s a myth.” she concedes, voice softer now, almost tentative. “but i built my whole armor out of it. if that cracks… what’s left underneath?” | @hvzeful