Dr Meera Saravana has been on the run for the last ten years due to a fatal misunderstanding. She ends up in New York, hoping that maybe this time everything will work out. But that's turning out to be impossible the more she gets involved with the...
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NAT
There were times when Nat wished she lived alone. This was one of them.
The door to the apartment swung open, waking Nat up from her nap on the couch. She rubbed her eyes as Meera walked in. Meera only nodded at Nat as she kicked off her shoes and dragged herself into the kitchen. Nat glanced up at the clock, slightly surprised that the shorter hand crept a little too close to midnight for her liking.
Nat picked up Pharaoh off her lap. "You should probably head over to her," she whispered, setting him on the ground.
He turned his yellow eyes to her, tail twitching anxiously. Pharaoh circled her legs twice, purring loudly before slinking off into the kitchen, tail up in the air as he padded across the floor. Nat was the type of person who didn't interfere in anyone's life, she stuck to herself and her problems. And that's the way that she preferred it. Except for this time.
She got up, grumbling as she threw off the Afghan she had perched over her lap. Nat braced her arm on the door frame and leaned against it, wondering what she should say to a visibly sad Meera.
Meera just stared at the window, eyes unfocused and glazed over. Her shoulders were hunched as if she were protecting herself or trying to appear as small as possible. The cup of tea in her hand was rapidly cooling. It was kinda pitiful really. Like someone had taken the saddest colours in the world and smeared them onto a canvas to pass off as art.
Nat was awful at comforting someone. One time when her roommate in college was crying over a broken heart, she stupidly said, "Well, at least he's not screwing you over and screwing someone else." She winced at the memory. Not her best moment.
Thankfully, the opportunity to start mindless small talk was taken away from her.
"Hey, Nat?" Meera asked. She didn't turn around, wrapping her arms around her and clutching at the fabric of her sweater. "Tell me something. Do you think I'm a good doctor?"
The question had taken her back a bit. "What?" Nat asked, a bit incredulous.
"I mean......" Meera waved her hand around. "Do you think I'm doing it right? I'm not messing it up. I'm not.....useless."
"Oh god, you're serious." Nat scoffed and shook her head. "What type of dumbass question is that? Of course, you're a good doctor. You're the fucking best as far as I'm concerned."
"Oh."
Nat rolled her eyes. "Who called you a bad doctor? I can take a baseball bat to their knee if you like."
That ripped a small laugh from her throat. "No, that's not needed at all." Meera put down her cup of tea, the corner of her lip quirked up in a small smile. It still didn't reach her eyes. "It's just been a terrible day. That's all."
