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 twenty two━that's me trying season seven, episode seven
❝ i'm three seconds away from kneeing him in the groin. ❞
⠀ ⠀ ⠀
One piece of advice Aliya would give to anyone thinking of travelling to Seattle was pretty simple.
Pack a rain coat.
Or, even a trash bag.
Pack literally anything that would provide some shelter from the rain.
Because, the thing about Seattle was god, it liked to rain.
And by rain, we're not talking pathetic downpours of rain here and there that cling to your hair and clothes with dear life.
No, we're talking torrential rain.
That, if you are in it for even one second, you would be soaked all the way through to your pants.
Maybe it was pathetic fallacy.
Because, ever since Aliya Levine had moved to Seattle, her life had turned from a shit show, to even more of a shit show.
(And, she didn't even think that was possible.)
"You've got to be kidding me." Aliya frowned, hunched over her steering wheel and narrowing her eyes at the front door to the house, which was a solid fifteen second run from her car door, and that didn't account for locking it up, and shutting said door.
The neurosurgeon beside her, the smug bastard, was the only one out of the two that had brought a coat with a hood, seeing as Aliya never learnt from her mistakes.
"You've lived in Seattle for nearly four years," Derek very helpfully pointed out, which didn't make matters any better. "Why don't you ever bring a coat, or an umbrella?"
Aliya sighed, looking towards the back seat of her car, seeing if she had anything that could help her in her time of need. She would settle for a takeout box at this rate.
"My sandwich is gonna get soggy." She complained, frowning down at the sub Derek had bought for her as a bribe to drive him home.
And now, if she hadn't waited half an hour for Derek, she would be home in the dry, instead of stuck in her Mini Cooper, watching the rain crash into her windshield.
"Not if we make a run for it," Derek said decisively, pulling his hood up as if he were putting a car into sports mode. "On the count of three?"
