𝜗𝜚˚⋆⭒˚｡⋆ in which aliya levine begins her third year of surgical residency with a particular green eyed rich boy, overbearing parents taunting her all the way from malibu, an ex who refuses to leave her alone, a chaotic best friend and a pair of t...
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chapter sixty two ━i saw her standing there season nine, episode four
❝i think i'macing the whole coping thing, right? ❞
⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Aliya loved her house.
Not in a 'yeah, my house is great, I love it because it's got four walls and a roof and it suits me just fine!' kind of way.
No, Aliya adored her house to the extent that if it ever burned down (to which Aliya would knock on wood because nothing bad was ever going to happen to this house on her watch), she would go into an extended period of mourning and never love another house quite like this one.
She loved every single off-white panel that made up the walls of the house where purple wisteria climbed around the front and the sides, the beautiful bay windows in her living room and dining room, and the brown roof that seemed to shine in the warmth of the sun that bounced off of the lake.
She loved the dock, where the boat she wasn't licensed to drive was. However, her life was much more idyllic as the passenger, letting the breeze off the lake hit her skin, sending her hair into the wind.
She loved the trees that surrounded her house and the sound they made in the salt-scented breeze. She especially held a soft spot for willow tree that hung over the lake, even more so when she would close her eyes on her deck chair out of the two that looked out onto the water.
Even though Aliya wasn't much of a gardener and her thumb was far from green, she loved her garden most of all.
Well, it was hard to hate the garden, especially when her garden stretched out the front, back and the sides of her house.
The wooden arch trellis at the side of the house was her favourite, where the wisteria and other plants she tried to remember the names of grew through the wooden panels that led to an open patch of grass fenced by more trees, bushes and herb plants, and the green house where she was trying her best to grow peppers, cucumbers and tomatoes.
She loved her front porch, with the wind chimes and the swinging chair stuffed with throw pillows where Jackson had realised he would never be able to escape the curse of the pillows. Because, everywhere he looked, Aliya had stacked pillows on every sofa, every armchair and every bed in the house.
Even the bench that stretched around the circular bay window was full of pillows, despite the fact that you could barely sit at the table there if you didn't move them to the side.
