Burning Red

Ocean Blue Eyes (part one)

Whiskey on ice, sunset and vine, nervous smiles and shaking hands, racing hearts and dim bar lighting, tangerine, neon light

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ─

It was Friday night, and Gracie must have paced her apartment thirty times in the last twenty minutes. Her hands were shaking and she was more nervous than she'd ever been for a date. She hadn't been on a date in years— no one wanted to go out with a single mom of a five year-old. Not to mention, she'd been working night shifts for a good while before arriving at Grey-Sloan, which left little time for any late-night rendezvous.

She'd thought about cancelling for a brief minute, terrified she was going to throw up from her pre-date anxiety. Gracie had been an infamous flirt in high school before she dated Connor, but actually going on dates? That was a whole other story. And now, years later, she had all sorts of commitment and abandonment issues leftover from her first— and last— long-term relationship that she became far too attached to quickly, only to cut people off the moment something in the dynamic shifted.

But, when she'd picked up her phone and started drafting that text to Jack, something stopped her. With a start, she'd realized that for the first time in forever, she wanted to go out with him. She wanted to see where things would go. It could be nothing, but it could also be something, and that hope kept her going.

She was an emotional addict, and hope was her drug of choice.

Gracie glanced at her watch and set the glass of champagne she'd been sipping over the past hour or so down on the counter. Before going out, whether it be with friends or on a date, she getting ready routine consisted of a small amount of champagne and her Taylor Swift playlist.

The weather was a little warm for October in Seattle, so Gracie was dressed in her favorite pair of jeans and a cropped black off-the-shoulder top with a tie in the back. She put on the sparkly silver heels that she'd had since high school, and accessorized the look with tiny disco ball earrings and a black Kate Spade clutch. The purse had been a gift from her sister Adeline.

Not allowing herself a chance to become wrapped up in second thoughts, Gracie fed Pumpkin, swiped her keys off the counter, and locked the apartment door behind her. Her heels clicked against the floors of the hallway, a sound she loved. As a little girl, she was always getting into her moms shoes and clothes and makeup. Her favorite thing to dress up in were her mom's heels— she'd wear them around the house, practically running, until her parents made her stop and half-jokingly scolded her, warning of broken ankles and bruised knees.

She drove the couple minutes to Joe's bar, a place she'd become quite familiar with over the past few weeks. It seemed to be the popular hangout spot of the staff at Grey Sloan, and she'd thought she'd seen some firefighters there a couple of times as well. She didn't know the station numbers, and had forgotten which one Jack worked at. Was it 23? Or maybe 54? She couldn't remember.

After finding a parking spot, she sat in her car for a moment and opened her group chat with Jo and Jules.

Heading in for the date now, I'm so nervous!

Then, she put her phone on silent, took a breath, and walked into the bar.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ─

Jack pov:

He leaned against the bar, holding a beer in his hand and anxiously tapping his foot. Gracie was going to be here any minute— she'd texted she was on her way— and he was practically shaking.