synopsis ∶ years after leaving New York behind, a celebrated pediatric ᐟ neonatal surgeon collides with the one person she never stopped loving. Addison Montgomery was never supposed to be part of the plan again, but some wounds don’t heal just because you walk away.
you don’t outrun love. you just put oceans, time zones, and operating rooms between yourself and its echo. some loves don’t end. they hibernate. and when they wake up, they might heal just as much as they hurt.
warnings ∶ angst, slow burn, mutual pining, unresolved romantic tension, emotional hurt ᐟ comfort, friends to lovers, domestic abuse ﹠ abortion ﹙referenced﹚canon character reinterpretation, suggestive dialogue and flirting. no use of y/n. edited in the slightest.
author’s note ∶ please mind the warnings. some difficult topics are referenced, including past abuse and infidelity, though nothing graphic is depicted. this is a slow, emotionally heavy burn, and feelings are very much the point. that said, there is tenderness here. soft moments. hands held in hospital corridors. love spoken too late, and maybe not late at all.
Used to be so easy
To give my heart away
But I found out the hard way
There's a price you have to pay
I found out that love
Was no friend of mine
I should have known
Time after time
So long, it was so long ago
But I've still got the blues for you
Leaving New York was one of the easiest decisions.
The most difficult part was leaving without anyone to look back on at the airport. Embarking on a new professional opportunity, a chance you had always dreamed of and precisely why you had studied for most of your life. Finally, the sleepless nights, the headaches, and the years working in hospitals and private practices; it all came down to that moment.
As I was saying, you were on your own. Your best friend, the woman you ended up in love with during your residency and first certification... Addison Montgomery... Shepherd was trying by all means to resuscitate a marriage that was a slow-motion death spiral waiting to happen. The evenings you spent together, whether at her house or your apartment, were put on hold with the excuse that Derek had decided to go home early, and to his wife’s misfortune, he never kept his promise. So both of you, alone, drifted out of touch.
There was no going back once your ultimate choice was made.
On the same night your plane left New York, the pouring rain carried in each drop a plea, a tear of sorrow, and a pair of angry hands that pushed the woman’s tender body up against the windowpane. Blood, insults, and the departure of the man who was in himself the failure of more than a decade of affection. Derek walked outside the room without hesitation, leaving behind a woman who was emotionally, physically, and mentally traumatized. This only strengthened the sense of abandonment she already felt.
Addison’s first reaction wasn’t to go after her husband or her cheating lover. It was to call you. Her trembling fingers dialed a number that no longer had a signal. She eventually found out in the worst way that she was all by herself. The beeps were redirected to voicemail. The dark night featured dew, rain pounded the roof, and the hum of a house that no longer represented a story.
She hurried to your apartment in the rain and desperately knocked on the door, screaming your name like a merciless prayer. That’s when your neighbor, a woman in her late sixties, stepped out into the hallway and embraced Addison’s silhouette, smaller than she had ever seen her before. The elder entered her own apartment, taking a deep breath as she pulled out a towel and a sweater for Addie, surprising her by the sudden embrace she provided.
The woman’s husky voice sounded like a plea. “Where is she, Dolores?”
She hadn’t noticed how much she cherished being with you, how you truly made her feel alive, even if only for a few hours together or between surgeries, you were always there with her.
Until you weren’t there anymore.
When you agreed to fly back to the United States, new job possibilities came to light: one in Seattle, another in New York, and one in Los Angeles.
As a result of your successful work with children in Africa, with additional teams to provide palliative care for the sickest and improve the quality of life for the tribes. It wasn’t predominantly about medicine, and certainly, the healthcare professionals who stayed wouldn’t let your work die. Given the magnitude of your worldwide reputation, your expertise would be in circulation and tremendously appreciated anywhere; you were well aware of that.
Yet all the places highlighted seemed to relate to a story.
New York held the weight of an ambiguous love, a friendship that dissolved into something platonic, and a thunderstorm of feelings you understood you would probably never forget, and as for Seattle... Well, you were definitely not one for the cold rain. Although the proposition of working with one of your former professors seemed like a promising alternative and a trip to the small roots you still had in the country. What was remaining for you was Los Angeles.
The bright fluorescent lights of the medical facility were indeed an element that discomforted your vision. After two years in a hot environment, where the sun was practically burning hot and the moon reflected warm shadows, that artificial light still made your optic nerves dry for a brief second, but it was something you would deal with head-on.
On your way to the nurses’ station, you exhibited high-heeled boots, black jeans that, for God’s sake, hugged your sleek leg muscles like a thin layer of skin, and finally, the creamy silk blouse that emphasized your eyes and the rich shade of your natural long locks. One of the female attendees who was chatting quickly gazed into your eyes; apparently, the perfume you had chosen to apply this morning got there seconds before your presence was acknowledged.
Armed with an almost sinful smile and a persuasiveness that was potentially just a breath away, your accent sounded a notch deeper than usual. “Good morning, ladies. Could you tell me where I can find Dr... Charlotte King?”
Soon after taking over as head of pediatrics and neonatology, your work at the hospital only taught you even more brilliance in the medical field. The residents and interns consistently expressed their desire to work under your name, and as a result, an increasing number of patients were referred to your care.
Despite your professional life taking off like a rocket, the beach house where you had been sleeping seemed to lack life. It was a furnished house with two bedrooms and a large balcony. Adorned for quiet sunny days, but it still seemed uninhabited, even after two years of residing in that place.
You had few friends; they were always cheerful and looking out for you in any circumstance you could anticipate, even though you only saw them when they were performing surgery at the hospital or when Charlotte insisted you go to her private practice for dinner and then give her a ride back to her house.
Positioned toward the cafeteria table, a cup of chamomile tea with warm milk and a word search magazine occupied your concentration. It was Friday night, and you were seeking the perfect opportunity to cool off and still stimulate your cognitive abilities. However, Charlotte appeared to have other intentions when she collapsed in the chair next to you and removed the Care Bears customized pen from your fingertips.
“Do you even realize what day of the week it is?” she arched her raised eyebrows in a mocking gesture. She noted that your intense engagement with work had prevented you from dictating space-time.
“Do I truly need to know?” the smile on her face emphasized that the next words would be like walking on broken glass with no shoes, so naturally, Charlotte established something you couldn’t argue against, even if you wanted to.
“Look, you never exit this hospital. When you’re not here, you’re in the lab working or in some operating room, changing the course of neonatal surgery. Your house is a cold place. In Los Angeles! You need to jazz up your personal life, dear.” her hand was covering yours, an act of concern and reassurance. “What do you think about dinner with the girls and then going to karaoke at that gay bar downtown?”
You let out a deep sigh, closed your eyes, and let your body loosen up for a second, then immediately broke into fits of giggles. “You should have started off with ‘gay bar’ instead of insulting me for being a workaholic.”
The moment Naomi hugged you, a signature aroma filled your memories. It was a fragrance you were sure you had been devoted to; it was completely distinct from the woody smell Naomi traditionally adopted; it was sweet, and you could feel that warmth in the bottom of your abdomen again, one that had left you in tears in the New York airport. Breathing deeply, just the four of you in the restaurant, it was almost impossible to get your thoughts out of that bittersweet aroma, and considering how Violet constantly appeared to be ready to vomit all night, it would be common to assume that both of them were withholding some information.
“What made you switch your perfume, Nai?” finally, the question that had been burning in your throat took its proper form. Everyone praised your art of analyzing behavior and, even better, persuading your prey to communicate precisely what you were trying to find out, not simply what you would probably want to hear.
“I... Didn’t.” she was cautious, which made her raise the glass to her mouth, where she took a mouthful of wine and glanced away at Charlotte. “Actually, Charlotte gave me a refill of the same perfume I bought for my birthday; something must have changed in the formula.”
Your jaw set, brain processing far quicker than gears. “Maybe... It’s charming; it reminded me of that old friend.” this made the two brunettes in front of you exchange a nervous stare. They agreed that they couldn’t keep the information to themselves for long.
“Actually, maybe this perfume belongs to the person you’re thinking of.” Violet let the cat out of the bag; it was now or never... well, not “never,” but a big change and possibly one of the most challenging parts since the beginning.
The three women learned about your chapter of the story with Addison Montgomery; everyone there had a previous relationship with her, but they were equally estranged when her marriage to Shepherd claimed over half of her social life. Despite being a feminist, Addison still maintained faith in marrying a man whose individuality was a walking red flag. This left her somewhat more alone than she was ever supposed to be.
“Thank goodness I’m not coming to the clinic soon. I don’t picture how I’d respond to looking at her again after so long…” you expressed. It was unexpected to think that even after four years absent from contact, that woman who was your best friend and first platonic romantic partner still influenced your mental picture of time, or potentially it was the dizziness that caused this downward spiral of mental chatter.
At that point, Charlotte had chosen to ask for the bill, paying for the weekly dinner as they had all agreed over time. The two doctors decided to go home while you and your best friend drove down to the bar. Charlotte was definitely more excited to go than you had previously been.
Upon arriving, you both marched directly to one of the tables most distanced from the crowd.
“Tonight we’re going to drink to get wasted and probably fuck. You, my boo, need to get laid.” the blonde tossed her cards on the table, waving to one of the waiters passing by, ordering two cocktails.
“We definitely shouldn’t talk about my sexual activities.”
Eight glasses of tequila and maybe two cocktails later, you found yourselves dancing to the loud music. The dance floor was overflowing, bodies sweating with heat and desire or just the euphoria of knowing they were in a welcoming space. As the night grew darker, Charlotte had successfully kissed two women and a polyamorous married couple and would very likely go home with them. As for you... Just glances, tangible flirtation for a while until a lock of red hair magnetized your attention. She was tall, with shapely legs and a generous cleavage, the devil walking on earth. Your mouth was watering, and for a brief period, so did the woman standing in front of you. When did she get so close?
“Adeline. Nice to meet you.” she extended her hand to greet you, and you responded to the invitation, taking her warm hand and bringing it to your lips, leaving a harmless peck on her knuckles.
After introducing yourself, she went directly to the point, setting her hand somewhere between your neck and loose hair, caressing the nape of your scalp, and scraping her sharp nails against your skin. Her lips were soft and salty, and yet she grew too smooth through the lipstick. Your rough fingers caressed the gentle curves of her hips, moving up until they brought her body between your legs, letting themselves be guided by touch, by imagination... Unfortunately, for your senses, all you saw was the ghost of Christmas past.
Even when you landed in a bed that wasn’t yours, in a room that would certainly not be yours, when between your legs was a glorious woman devouring you as if her life depended on it, your moans were real, of course they were, uninhibited, unfiltered, seductive like a promise to your own brain. Through all the whining, your heart screamed her name. “Addie, Addie please…” inevitably, you reached the peak, with her sweet smell in your head and the image of her red hair resting on your legs. The illusion, once again, in its purest form.
Later the following morning, you leave the apartment with barely a trace, your clothes still retaining the scent of the previous night. Looking down the street, you realized Charlotte had all your belongings, and by the late morning, she was almost certainly at the clinic.
You slipped your phone out of your jeans pocket and called the emergency number, leaving a short message on the voicemail. “Hey, Charlie. Uh... I’m about ten minutes from the clinic. I’m going to pick up my car, okay? Bye, see you in a minute.” your voice was harsher than expected, maybe even dryer. That’s how you ended up at the clinic with a large cup of coffee and shades, probably stolen from a stack in a very crowded store since they still held the price tag on the temple.
Perhaps it was the alcohol entirely vanishing from your body or the sunglasses blurring your perspective, but less than five steps away, Addison Adrianne Forbes Montgomery lowered her frame on the reception desk, arms loosening as she exchanged words with Dell.
At that exact point, the world immediately began to slow down, your cardiac rhythm pounding in your ears, a sudden fever sending chills down your cervical spine. Equivalent to a ricocheting bullet, a wave of emotional states that had long ago been bottled away and buried seven feet under the surface. That’s when the receptionist’s attention was drawn straight to your frozen silhouette. He called out your name in a cheerful announcement but quickly tracked the change in the atmosphere; during that moment, the redhead realized who that unconventional last name belonged to.
It was like seeing an angel, she remembered. For how much time had she been waiting for that comeback? All the forces of the universe were always playing comically against her: first the end of her marriage with Derek, then the love affair with Mark that eventually ended in an unborn child, and then the three-way romance that concluded with one of the interns in Seattle being heavily driven along by her ex-husband.
She needed a fresh start in Los Angeles, and what a twist of fate, this was the perfect place to reunite with an old flame... A burning spark that in Addison’s heart probably would have never been extinguished, for your joyful laughter was forever written in her soul. Even though your groundbreaking achievements in medicine were honored across the globe, the redhead in question had never thought your paths would cross again.
Addison was at a loss for words while entering the apartment after that rainy night. The decor was untouched, and your fragrance soaked through each room. However, the apartment became lifeless due to your absence. Not just from the residence, that neighborhood, or the country, you left her life. It happened so carefully that, amidst the waves of tears on the soft couch, wrapped in your sheets, with your perfume enchanting all her sensibilities, she watched as practically nothing could make sense anymore without you. Friday nights, rosé wine bottles, and even the hospital were no longer interesting.
Used to be so easy
To fall in love again
But I found out the hard way
It's a road that leads to pain
I found out that love
Was more than just a game
You're playing to win
But you'll lose just the same
The leaves danced like poetry in the collision of glances that undoubtedly carried hundreds of emotions, including relief and doubt; time did seem to fade away, resembling a scene from an Old West duel. Addison was the first to take the very first stride towards that wave of uncertainty, her heart also humming as if she had just completed a marathon in high heels. You could never adequately express how much you treasured those glowing eyes, so breathtaking even after so much time.
The expressions on both of your faces were exceptionally hard to read; Addison maintained her posture even though her eyes said the exact opposite. With a painful lump loosening in her throat, she muttered in a silent breath, “You're alive.”
A chuckle escaped your lips. You could deny any geographical separation; at that moment it was obvious that nothing had truly changed.
She was the same Addison you had fallen in passionate love with, and you were the charismatic and outspoken woman she had let into her heart and soul. Your eyes were basically the same, calm and comforting. Hair remained perfect and even more voluminous, and the sideways smile appeared, something Montgomery dreamed of witnessing again. She could say with all her tenderness that it was a dream; even so, you commented, “No need to sound so disappointed.”
“There you are!” your best friend Charlotte’s voice cracked, pulling both of you out of the mental space cultivated by nostalgia. The blonde came striding in with her hurried aura, meeting you. She smiled openly, a hint of mischief shining through simply because she knew how well your night had been spent. “Here’s your car key. It’s parked in my spot. Your purse is there, too.” she said, handing you the keychain that holds your house keys, your car key, and a red pom-pom along with a pendant of your personalized initials.
Addison examined that exchange of information with a furrowing eyebrow before clearing her throat and captivating the blonde's attention, who continued with a smile on her face and pretty much an infallible plan to fulfill a theoretical assumption she had in mind, due to your background with the clinic’s newest employee.
After greeting Montgomery, Charlotte immediately turned her attention to you, “Can you pick me up when my shift at the hospital is over?”
Your hands were sweaty, your face flushed from Charlotte's lack of filter. “Of course. Let me know when you’re finished.” you managed to reply, pondering the presence of your past right in front of you.
“You're a sweetheart! See you later, darling.” Charlotte said, standing on tiptoe and sealing her lips to your cheek. Before you could realize it, she was gone, and Addison was staring at your face with even more hesitation.
A deep breath, a masked relief, was all you needed to summon the courage to finally proceed along Addison’s steps, guiding her by the arm until you reached the empty office. Just when the redhead was standing in the middle of the room, she could hear the door lock and your stride to the leather couch, where you sat quietly and extended your arms for her to do the same as you.
“So... It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other.” she began, tucking a piece of her red hair behind her ear.
“You cut your hair.” you pointed out, studying how that cut emphasized her authoritative yet charming facial features.
Addison couldn’t hide her bright smile, remembering one of the times you had inspired her to cut her hair, but she never had the courage to, mainly because Derek thought she would look older. “And you let yours grow... It looks stunning.”
So long, it was so long ago
But I've still got the blues for you
At that moment, the conversation descended into a collection of past emotional memories about how Addison felt distant in so many specific instances, but also in relation to how she lost your friendship so unexpectedly, leaving a wound in her heart. On the other hand, you failed to mention your burning love for her, only emphasizing how much you missed the friendship you two had founded and how, over time, the strings that held together that attachment had lost their way or essentially headed down different paths, as was to be expected. You talked about your two years of service in Africa, about the sleepless nights caring for children and mothers so young they barely could comprehend what was to come in their lives. She told you about the love affairs that adjusted her standpoint on life, directing her to Los Angeles. To you.
All this exchange was abruptly interrupted by both of your cell phones ringing, announcing a hospital emergency. Immediately, heading to the parking lot, you offered her a ride, and together, you went to St. Ambrose. In a very quick change of clothes into surgical scrubs, your chief resident detailed the case that was being transported by ambulance, and with your instructions, the team was ready to handle it. Addison was watching your conduct, waiting to do her part.
That case moved along like a smooth breeze, both doctors operating together as if they had been doing it for years, observing and anticipating each other’s precise movements so that the patient would finally become stable along with the baby, who would be born prematurely if the women weren’t so good at their respective specialties.
“Good work there.” Addison emphasized, catching your eye as you scrubbed your hands after the surgery.
You grinned, cheerful; you had always fantasized about that instant. “Thank you... Likewise, you haven’t lost your abilities with your hands.” a tender phrase of flirtation escaped your lips. From where? You had no idea, but whenever she was around, your filters dissolved like an uninhibited waterfall.
She giggled, feeling her cheeks heat up with the blush that observation induced. After that surgery, nothing would ever be the same, and you could feel the change in the surroundings as soon as you stumbled out of that operating room.
That week prior to their first mutual reconciliation talk, things at the hospital soon started to collapse completely. As more potentially fatal cases arrived at their door, schedules became chaotic, day could turn into night, and shifts could no longer be twenty-four hours but rather further extended. There was definitely no time for naps between surgeries; just a coffee and a muffin would be enough for that wave of babies, children, and mothers with health complications. Amidst all that chaos, your thoughts traveled straight to Addison, who was taking on the night shifts so she could also be in attendance at medical appointments at the private clinic. The purple scrubs stood out; only neonatal attendants wore them, and as opposed to you, Addison was looking like a glowing goddess in them, which made your heart race when she smiled at you, her eyes exhausted from a week without a break from work.
Your attire was anything but traditional, and Addison considered it your distinctive style. Working with children and their mothers, your scrubs had small handmade stars, and for a few days she swore she saw some embroidered designs there too, on the hem of the shirt and pants—maybe a Care Bear or a Disney character. When she approached you, you didn’t pull back from a tight hug, keeping your face snug against her neck as if that would take away any tiredness from your body. She felt exactly the same. Your perfume activated her senses, causing her to cling even more tightly to you.
So many years
Since I've seen your face
But here in my heart
There's an empty space
You used to be
“Are you doing okay?” you asked, whispering in her ear and attaching one hand to the nape of her neck, caressing it as if the entire world had simply stopped in that empty hallway, where nurses were shifting from one side to the other, checking on patients.
She breathed in, slowly detaching you from the tight embrace, and when she caught your eye, her throbbing exhaustion made her guide you to the first on-call room in the corridor.
“I need a rest, and so do you, so come here and let’s rest.” she demanded, lying down on the bed and pressing her back against the wall, leaving enough space for you to lie down next to her.
It wasn’t something you were completely used to, but another thing you missed those nights in New York where you both shared a bed or a couch. When you lay down next to Addison, her arms found your waist, and she buried her face in your neck. Your arms worked their way around her body, wrapping her in a warm and cozy embrace. Your heart pounded in your chest, that hidden passion coming back like a high-speed train, overpowering your senses and driving hot tears to well up in your eyes.
A pout escaped your lips; you had waited so many years for this moment, however platonic it might be. “I love you, Addison Montgomery.” you blurted out, holding low your voice.
She wasn’t asleep.
Both bodies lingered affectionately in that small bed, intertwined, maintaining the warm feeling of comfort and the full attraction of two hearts that had been bruised on their way back to each other. Addison was seeking a fresh start, oblivious that coming back to the past would only heal all the fears and frustrations she had built up from toxic relationships with her former best friends. It was this moment that she understood that the problem wasn’t her and her misconceptions about falling in love with friends; no, the problem was that none of those friends were you.
You were the one who was holding her hand through questionable choices without question, the one who also embraced her when things didn’t go as originally planned. Addison vividly remembered the wedding day; even knowing you weren’t one of the bridesmaids, you were beside her and muttered in her ear that everything would be alright, that it was a mutual decision, and that getting married had always been her dream. She knew, deep down, that the union was for status and ego. Even so, you were there, in a crimson dress so exquisite that she wondered twice about the need to go down on your body and devour you completely, even knowing there were only minutes remaining before she had to walk towards the Shepherd family name.
Archer took her, and she looked so beautiful in her wedding dress... You felt that still-growing passion tighten, grow to the point where tears of pride faded and eventually turned into tears of sorrow, because witnessing the love of your life marrying a man who didn’t deserve even a fraction of the woman she is was genuinely torturous. After the “I do.” Montgomery’s bright eyes searched for your figure somewhere among the family members. Unfortunately, she couldn’t find you.
For the first time that late afternoon, she felt half her heart tighten. Because she had affection for Derek, and she also felt that you were holding back the most tender and joyful aspects of her.
In the following years, you were constantly present, and you were frequently at game nights, playing doubles with Mark Sloan. She was jealous of that, of the close relationship you two shared. For a long time, Mark had a particular aspect of you that she wished belonged to her. It wasn’t a sexual affair; you were always very open about your sexuality, something she respected given she was a coward in admitting that potentially her happy ending wasn’t with the current husband at the time. You and Mark talked about women openly and even had a little battle to find out who could collect more numbers on the nights you both went out. Even if Addison was jealous, she noticed that you respected her marriage and would never bring up that kind of subject with her, a friendship about intimate and lustful matters without judgment.
In your arms, Addison could leave her heart open to be taken care of, broken, or rescued from an anguish she had experienced her whole life. After four years without you, she came to figure out that time would never be her true friend, that you might have grown so much that you would certainly never let her come back into your life.
Then again, you were intertwined in that moment, and even though she was ready to ask more about the conversation she witnessed between you and Charlotte, she also knew that you would never lay down with another woman if you were in a committed romantic relationship with the doctor.
“Please, Addison. Stop thinking. I haven’t slept in two weeks, so please... Let me have this break.” you positioned yourself more comfortably in bed, consequently bringing your faces one millimeter away from the woman in your arms. Your breaths became one, and at this crucial moment, Addison couldn’t rest.
Her hand reached up to meet your face, emerald eyes tracing every delicate feature before she could touch, index finger memorizing the curve of your nose, the small freckles on your rosy cheek. You opened your eyes, conscious of what was happening. When your impulses became louder than the indecision in your subconscious, you moved inches closer, brushing your nose against hers in an affectionate caress. Addison felt her skin tingle, closing her eyes to feel that exchange of affection more intensely. She felt your hand travel down the fabric of her scrub top and move inside, finally touching the skin of her back, caressing it with delicate fingers, drawing her body closer. She wrapped one leg tight around your waist, lying down with half her body pressed against yours.
“I missed you so much…” she said, swallowing hard.
So long, it was so long ago
But I've still got the blues for you
You should get up and move on, abandoning any thoughts that held you in this position and never gazing at the past that way all over again. You called all three of your friends on the night you left for Africa, but your cell phone vibrated once. Somehow, Derek showed up, wishing you a good flight and letting you know he was going home early to surprise his wife. That night, Addison and Mark didn’t answer the phone. With your chest cramping from anticipating what had been happening, the first few minutes of the trip felt suffocating. Heavy breathing, hot tears, and irreparable anguish. You fell asleep halfway to your destination, as your body was weakened. Over time, you acquired the ability to be free of the anchors that surrounded your heart, allowing you to radiate happiness beyond the need for societal restrictions. You learned to smile openly, to dance in the rain, and to see life from a completely different point of view.
That’s why you refused to leave. This time, without marital partners or lovers involved. No forcing yourself to pretend that your heart wasn’t holding out for hers. You stayed simply because love doesn’t just vanish overnight; respect, affection, pride, and the feeling of friendship—all of that was the culmination of the reasons why. From the minute you fell in love to the moment your senses had to pause to breathe, break down the situation, mature, and eventually, be able to surrender.
“Now you’re the one thinking out loud.” Addison chuckled, looking up and resting her head on her hand.
You carefully approached the door, unlocked it, and waited for the redhead. "Let's go home, Addie." both smiled brightly, which was just what you needed. Home.
Though the days come and go
There is one thing I know: I've still got the blues for you
⸻ english is not my first language, but I hope you enjoyed it. constructive feedback is always welcomed! let me know if you want to be tagged in future fanfics. thanks for reading! 💞
I’m accepting requests! if you enjoy my writing and want to read a story about a specific character, I’ll do my best to make it happen!
a special kiss to Lai, who encouraged me every step of the way in writing this story. I love you forever, baby. 💋
“Even the janitors are complaining!” Loving the fact that Diego couldn’t sit through more than 5 minutes of orientation yet still took the time to listen to the workers, even the custodial staff
