Sewn-up Hearts | Grey's Anatomy

30. | Eastside

We can do anything if we put our minds to it
Take your whole life then you put a line through it
My love is yours if you're willing to take it
Give me your heart 'cause I ain't gonna break it
So come away, starting today
Start a new life, together in a different place
We know that love is how these ideas came to be
So baby, run away, away with me

"Eastside" —Halsey, Khalid, Benny Blanco

Her apartment was so large it was sad. It was like having a bedroom for a basement, the size was huge, yet it was too big to feel like cozy. Owen ran his fingers over the perfectly chiseled marble counter, which probably hadn't been touched once by her. A large club-size box of Swiss cereal sat on the tiny white dining table and he sighed, wondering how long her surgery would take.

Huge glass windows covered the whole apartment, and the king-sized sat in another bedroom. He felt bad for wandering her apartment freely, but she had given him the address, and he had nothing else to do. There were TVs everywhere. One in the kitchen, one in her bathroom, one over the table, and one bigger one across from large white sofas. They were tossed in fuzzy black throws and red pillows, but Owen found it hard to believe she had the patience to decorate it so nicely.

Art the colour of blood hung in the master bedroom, awards were displayed over a shelf, noticeably her Harper Avery. Her bed was way too big for her, and he wondered how lonely it got. Owen walked into the bathroom and the scent of her shampoo drifted in the air. It smelled like Cristina, and it was almost like being with her again. A drowsy feeling came over his eyes, and he realized he didn't get a good sleep at all.

He had been awake since being in the bar with Amelia. That was almost a whole day. Years of being a surgeon made it easy for him to stay awake. His body had been trained to accept strange hours and to sleep wherever he could.

When he continued to breathe in her coconut smelling shampoo, a nostalgia grabbed at his heart. He realized that after all these years, the scent of her shampoo stayed the same. He had bought it for her a couple times as well. It was the white bottle that was supposed to help her curls stray from being frizzy and help them retain their natural state.

That shampoo had been such a habit for her, he felt like she would be a completely different person without it. Yet he hadn't thought about her scent in a very long time. Sometimes when she ran out and forgot, she would sue his shampoo. Owen hated it when that happened. She smelled like him, not Cristina.

Closing his eyes wearily, his only intentions were to let it fully sink in. He might be able to love her again. There was teenage excitement in this thought, that they might actually work out, btu at the same time, he found himself struggling to open his eyes. Owen sank down to the floor and into the bathtub, falling asleep almost immediately.

He didn't realize how long he had been asleep for until a hand nudged his shoulder. Squinting a couple times, met the warm chocolate eyes of the woman he loved, and he let his eyes close again. They were here, and that was all he cared about. When he opened them again. They were still there.

"You slept it my bathtub." She whispered. "You slept in my bathtub? When I have a whole kingsized bed overlooking the city."

Her face softened when he reached a hand up to stroke her jaw, feeling the touch of her skin against his palm. Cristina smiled and leaned in to give him a short kiss. His stomach twisted, but this time without any guilt or regret. "Your bathtub smells like you."

"I love you." She said, and the best part was he believed it.

"I'm so tired, and I just want to hold you." He murmured, trying to keep his eyes open, worried she'd leave him when he closed them. Instead she groaned and helped him get out of the bathtub. She wrapped his arm around her shoulder and led him onto her bed. Cristina untucked the covers and they crawled into the bed. "I really should have slept here."

"You should have." She replied as she put her head on his chest.

"I have so much to say."

"We'll talk in the morning. Hold me."

He did.

He held her until he fell asleep, her breath brushing against his shirt rhythmically. It was the best sleep he had in years.

Little did he know that Cristina's sleep was not a good one. He eyes were wide awake, her brain was too. When he drifted into a soft snore, she ran his hands over his shirt to make sure that he was still the Owen he knew. His chest was still curved in every muscle and scar. His clothes still smelled like lavender laundry detergent he bought on sale then fell in love with.

She needed him to be real.

If he wasn't real—she stopped breathing. Cristina stopped breathing for a full minute and she started gasping for breath. She cried, tears streaming out of her eyes. This could easily all be a dream. She could wake up and he would still be in love with Amelia Shepherd. She couldn't stop gasping for breath or being afraid, as if the world would end.

He undoubtedly woke up and realized his shirt was stained with her tears.

"Cristina? Cristina honey it's just a dream." He said soothingly.

"I'm awake. I've been awake this whole time." She choked, gasping and calming herself down with each second.

"I'm here. I love you. I'm not leaving." He said.

"What If you do? What if all of this. What if you coming back and being here and everything you make me feel is a dream,? What if I wake up in a minute and you're still in love with Amelia?"

Owen held her hand tightly and stared into her eyes. Her breath which was once gasping had now stopped as he looked at her. Everything calmed down. "Then you go back to Seattle, and you fight for me."

"I will."

the calm fuzzy chapter before the storm because i'm mean like that.