Love Without End

The vents

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"What are you doing in here? I pictured you playing with your little boy in your free time at daycare like you always dreamed of. I'm sure you'd be much happier in there with him and not... Not in here doing... whatever it is you're doing," she cleared her throat. Her initial soft smile had faded in her fear of it being noted by him.  He didn't need to see it, it'd be pointless. The ambience of the room was cool; dark. The dim lights of the vents only added insecurity onto the presence of hesitation in her.

She watched as he stepped in closer to the light. He looked just as he had the day she left. Tall, redheaded, his skin a soft white, and chief attire like always. It'd only been a short amount of time since she arrived at the hospital, but he'd shed his white coat off sometime between her arrival and now. His light-colored dress shirt was tucked into his pants, a dark belt tight around his waist, his shoes clean and well kept; always sharp unlike her own. His tie was the only thing out of place now; loose around his neck.

"We don't have to do the small talk. I know I always did small talk. We— we don't have to do that," he replied, his voice shallow, as if he were scared his words would cut her coldly in some way. They'd done that before. His words had cut her deep too many times to count.

"No— I... I liked the small talk..." A small smile grew on her face while she took a step closer. Her arms encased her protectively, eyes shifting nervously between his face and the vent flooring between them.

"You uh— never answered my question." He took another small step, almost looked like he was approaching a small, fragile little animal. 

"And that was?" Her long curls lingered messily on her leather jacket from where the air had pushed them around, the hold on her arms tightened. She scanned him up and down quickly, narrowing her eyes at the tie that seemed to have been pulled out of its formal shape. She wasn't fragile, never had been.

"What are you doing here?"

Two more steps.

"It was uh... It was time for me to come back... and," a pause overtook her words, "and visit."She emphasized, no longer holding back from gazing into his eyes.

Her feet moved on their own, slowly. Carefully.

"so you're only visiting?"

By the time the two realized, they were only inches away.

She gently raised her hand and caressed the side of his face. His hand immediately followed and rested on hers, almost as if it were a reflex. Their skin made contact for the first time in what felt like forever. Whether Cristina and Owen wanted to admit it or not, they missed each other's touch. The air wasn't just heavy— it was intoxicating. 

"Yeah... Unless I-" she began, before drawing her hand back.

"Unless you what?" he asked, his eyes vigorously scanning her face in search of something— a clue maybe. Anything that could give him even the slightest detail of her plans. He knew her perfectly in every way possible, yet he couldn't decipher what her purpose was.

"Owen," she paused and gave him that familiar look.

He knew her all too well to not understand what she meant.

He sighed.

Under his eyes, she noticed there was a darker shade of skin; brushed her thumb softly over the shaded spot. Apparently, he wasn't all the same as before she left. His skin was paler than usual, his hair not the usual radiant color she'd always remembered.