Redamancy ['red-a-man-sE] noun : the act of loving the one who loves you; a love returned in full.
Charlie Hawthorne has worked her ass off to get here....
Well, she worked hard enough. A genius level intellect, and a legacy bigger than you are can...
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When Charlie woke up, she did so with a smile on her face. She'd take good dreams where she could find them, after all, they were a change of pace from the nightmares.
And the dream she'd had last night was....well, the word yum comes to mind.
In hindsight, she probably should have worried over why she'd had a sex dream featuring plastics god, and man she wasn't likely to ever encounter again, Mark Sloan, but she was mature enough to understand an infatuation when confronted by it, and she wisely, and very maturely, if she did say so herself, chose to ignore it for now.
After all, she was never going to see him again, right?
Quickly getting dressed, she debated heading to her favourite cafe (the same one she'd met Mark in, but remember, we were ignoring it for now) for a quick breakfast, but decided against it at the last minute, choosing to eat some toast, and take her coffee in a to-go mug instead.
Perhaps if she had, she would have run into the plastics god himself, who'd serendipitously (read purposefully) driven there, with no thought of the beautiful and intriguing intern he'd met, who had yet to leave his mind.
But Mark was an adult, a grown-ass man by all accounts, and so, he did what all grown-ass adults ought to do.
He ignored it for now.
v^√√v^─√v^√v^─
She was ambling through the hospital hallways with her people, listening to Cristina complain about her boyfriend.
"I'm on my knees in a puddle of coffee, and he's lying on the couch playing with himself, you know? And not in a good way." Ranted the woman angrily.
Mer attempted the understanding route, saying, "But he's recovering from surgery, and you've read the studies on recovery and depression in surgical patients."
Whilst Charlie chose to simply, well, be herself, snorting in amusement instead, "Sure, difference is, he's not a patient, he's Preston Burke. By his own admission, the manliest man to ever man. So at this point, he's milking it."
Pointing at her heatedly, Cris agreed, adding, "Now he's got me fetching his food and the paper and his slippers like I'm a dog."
They had reached the elevator, watching as the doors swiftly opened, and out stepped Derek Shepherd, holding onto three cups of coffee in a cardboard carrier. He nodded at the women, greeting them, handing the tallest blonde the largest cup of the pile, being rewarded with a sunny smile and a "thank you, oh neuro-god." Before rounding on Mer and saying, "Hey!"
The woman smiled, "Hi! I had a dream about you last night."
Derek's smile widened, while the other two interns shared curious glances as he replied, "You did? What was I doing? Bringing you coffee?"
"You were definitely not bringing me coffee. But coffee's good."
He nodded, "I'm told dating starts with a casual invitation over a cup of coffee."
