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❛ 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄 . . . ❜ 005. cyclone season SEASON 5, EPISODE 15 ━━━━━━━━━━━
Somewhere,on the opposite side of Seattle Grace Hospital, a man approached a woman.
He appeared with a storm on his heels and a crease in his brow, palms sweaty from the admission that had so nonchalantly slipped through a brunette intern's lips. Maybe if this had been a movie, the whole world would have rumbled under his every step, windows trembling in their panes as a mood turned for the worst in downtown Seattle.
"You didn't think to tell me she'd be turning up?"
The woman hadn't rushed to respond to him, not as his shoe tapped almost anxiously against the linoleum beneath their feet. She'd just continued standing there, eyes fixed on an empty bed through a window. A pause as she felt his anger burn off like wine reducing at a boil. Hot, immediate and achingly familiar.
But then Addison had looked over at him and she'd shown him the frustration delicately laced into her eyes.
"I didn't think you'd care."
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In all honesty, Beth thought it was fucking rude that she had to take care of her body.
She'd studied all of that in medical school, how the body was a constant, precarious balance act of things. She'd learnt what made it tick, what made it run at peak performance and, on the other side of things, she'd learnt what made it rust.
Although, they hadn't taught the specific of the bad stuff in medical school, she'd done a fairly good job of learning on the job with that one. Long nights in the back of nefarious bars with nefarious people and a little dust on the tip of her nose––
"Has she even eaten anything?"
This wasn't an overcast bar in Brooklyn, but a brightly lit cafeteria in the centre of a hospital, one that was slowly driving Beth insane.
It was at a table not far from where she'd bought her first coffee with coins, now, she was sat with a second coffee and a pot of assorted tropical fruits that wasn't appetising. She sat there, elbows wedged into the table, a plastic fork in her hand and eyes fixed silently on the sad pineapple at the bottom of the plastic tub.
Despite the fact that Beth was sure she looked completely dead inside, her brain was painstakingly alive, thinking about everything all at once all the time. For the past ten minutes, she'd sat there, overcomplicating tiny situations and snowballing everything into the worst scenario humanly possible––
"She's barely touched any of it."
Beth, also, wasn't alone.
Across the table, two people watched her closely, chins dipped towards each other as they gave hushed commentary on her every movement.
