Revved Up Soul

Chapter 13

Jasmine

Things didn't feel okay. Jasmine's mind lingered on Luke – occasionally drifting to when he was in her shower.

Stark naked. His muscles flowing with his every motion, standing half a man and half a god. Heat curled against her abdomen and tightness formed wonderfully between her legs. You should have gotten his real number instead of that burner, she chided. Jasmine had the pleasure of training one of her residents today, Jessica Park; it was always a challenge to try and teach the newbies the ropes, but someone had to do it. The tune of Carry On My Wayward son resounded throughout her mind, as she'd listened to it on the way to the hospital – she had burned it onto one of the CD's she made for Alejandra. I really hope she likes it.

She was part of the way through her shift and walking the lobby of the main floor when she saw a familiar face make its way through those large glass doors. Jasmine's insides smiled and she could feel the corner of her mouth twisting into a playful smirk.

Augustus Lark sauntered on past the small contingents of patients and their friends, his silvery wine-colored curls had a peculiar glimmer to them when the light hit them just right. She saw something though, something out of the norm in those foxlike green eyes. Something was wrong.

She called out to him, placing a hand on her hip, "What's crackin' big A," she knew that he hated when she called him that. There were fine beads of sweat on the man's forehead.

He shifted his head to look over at her; the lines of his face did not form to the usual wise cracking that Jasmine had become accustom to. "Still not acknowledging that mysterious pest of a voice," he japed – but instead of playfulness behind it, this time it was sharp and decidedly pointed.

Jasmine stepped over to stop him from moving past her and in turn the man tried to juke her, but she quickly countered with a slide of her own.

"Oh come on now," Augustus screwed up his face, "I don't have time for this Debbie." He scratched against his arm, his fingers digging against the sleeve of his white coat.

"Not until you tell me what's up," Jasmine interrogated.

The man's mood instantly changed, his brows raising high and his smile beaming bright, "What's up my uh, lovely little ladybug," he pressed his index and middle finger against Jasmine's forehead, sending her an inch back in retreat. Damn him. "Isss," his eyes went up and to the left, and then his shoulders slowly rose before falling down – his eyes moving back to Jasmine, "I've just run out," he confessed.

What was he getting at? Jasmine gave him a quizzical look.

Augustus' lips pressed tightly together, he picked up an imaginary cup of sorts and turned it over, making a gesture that he was trying to pour something out. He furrowed his brows, a curious look forming on his face as he searched the invisible cup. He threw his head back and shook his head, sighing. "I'm just out of them," he announced loudly and proudly not just to Jasmine but to anyone in a fifty foot radius, his voice began to rise into an exaggerated crescendo. "I'm out of fucks to give and my day's only juh-hust started."

Jasmine put a hand to her face, trying to bury herself within it – laughing all the while, pinpricks dancing along her very bones; her side threatening to start hurting if she continued. "Okay," god it's embarrassing when I wheeze like that, she cringed internally. "I'll get you a refill later, promise."

Augustus did smile then, a genuine one as far as her eyes could come to understand. "Good," there was something though, the slightest hint of a crack in his voice. The doctor pushed Jasmine out of his path and barreled onwards, taking his more typical and manic long strides.

Jasmine watched him with appreciative eyes, realizing in that moment that maybe there was more to the way she felt about the man than just a simple crush.