Never /\ Mildred Ratched x Reader /\

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I stumble clumsily through the intimidatingly large double doors of Lucia State Hospital.

"Good first impression." I mutter to myself, slinging my bag over my shoulder in order to increase the speed at which I am able to hurry away from the glaring eyes of staff and patients.

That familiar smell of sterile instruments and sickness stings my nostrils as I make my way to the front desk. There's a particular smell that only the ill have, it takes a while to notice it - some never do - but if you spend enough time around those who are unwell it becomes quite recognizable, but never any nicer.
I pull myself out of thought as I approach a front desk where a young blonde girl sits reading.

"Hello, I'm Y/N!- well, I suppose it's more like Nurse L/N... I really must get used to that, it still feels strange to say!" My rambling is painfully obvious to me, even as I speak.

The girl behind the desk looks up from her magazine. She could only be my senior by a year or two. She's pretty, in that way one only can be if they never lift a finger to do a helpful job.

She blinks vacantly once or twice at me and returns her attention to the magazine in her
well-manicured hand without a word. I have been deemed unworthy of her time.

"Sorry, I'm just excited. Could you direct me to the staff break room?" I sigh, wringing my hands nervously. The girl - who doesn't seem to be wearing a name tag like everyone else - barely glances back up from her copy of Harper's Bazaar as I speak.

She vaguely waves her hand down an intimidatingly long hallway and I give her my thanks, which unsurprisingly she ignores, as if I were a ghost.

I smile gratefully regardless and make my way down the corridor in the hopes that she gave me correct directions.
Thankfully she did, I don't much enjoy wandering randomly around the halls of hospitals, though I'm not sure who does...

I shove through the surprisingly heavy door to the break room and collapse into one of the chairs, grateful for rest. The room is ugly.
With pale green wallpaper dotted with large flowers, uncomfortably lumpy booth seats that are almost chartreuse in their color, and not to mention the battered up pink curtains that look possibly older than I am.

I let my head roll back against the concerningly sticky pleather as I take in the room before me. I try to imagine what it will be like here, apparently, there are people here with all sorts wrong with them... I've even heard there might be people like that here...

People who, for some reason long ago we decided were indecent and unnatural, immoral and inappropriate... I have never understood what is so wrong about two of the same sex loving one another, if anything it even seemed like it could be nice.

I would be lying if I said I'd never in my life noticed how a woman's eyes glistened or how her lips parted...
Their lips always look so soft and delicate.
A few times I have dared to imagine what it would be like to press my own lips against another woman's...
No.

-Click, clack, click, clack-

I lift my head at the sound of heels clicking against marble floors and I try to imagine the type of woman who would wear high heels to a job like this.
For a brief moment, I glance down at my scuffed up hand-me-down mary janes, and a small pang of embarrassment courses through my body.
My eyes watch the door expectantly, preparing to take note of every part of this woman's appearance so that I may recount it for my best friend when I come off my shift.

The woman pushes the heavy door open with ease, and steps into the light.
She is not young, probably in her forties, but her beauty is undeniable.
Her lips are painted a dark red, almost the same color as her chestnut hair held in a tight bun beneath her nurse's hat.
She truly is breathtaking.

"Oh, hello." She says, her words more as a note that I am there rather than a greeting.
I try to think up a way to respond.

"I'm new." I blurt out.
The corners of her lips turn to a faint smirk as she makes her way to the fridge.
She doesn't speak, though her silence is not rude, she just waits for me to continue.

"Here. I'm new here..." I sigh.
She retrieves a peach from the fridge and takes the seat before me.
My hands fidget in my lap as I try to think up something to say.

"May I ask you a question?" She asks gently. I look up at the sound of her voice, my lips separate but no words escape them. I nod.

"You are so young, so beautiful. You could do anything. Why did you choose to work here?" She asks quietly.

My heart skips a beat.

"I wanted to help people. My mother died when I was young and..." I falter, she waits patiently.
"I suppose I just wanted to do what those doctors and nurses tried to do for my Ma" I sigh. 

She smiles ever-so-slightly. Neither of us speak for a few moments, we just sit in comfortable silence. She takes a bite of the peach she took from the fridge earlier and juice drips down her lip. She brushes it away with her thumb, sucking it off, not breaking eye contact.

I pull my eyes away, shuffling in my seat in a half-hearted attempt to rid my stomach of the butterflies fluttering around. Though I can't see her face from the spot on the floor I chose to avert my eyes to I can sense a small smile tugging on her lips.
I search my mind desperately for something to fill the silence.

"My name is Y/N, incase you were wondering." I say quietly.

"I was, thank you. Well, Y/N, it was lovely to make your acquaintance, but we both have jobs to do, isn't that right?" She beams, standing elegantly up from her chair and brushing down her perfectly un-creased dress. I finally look back up at the brunette who smiles pleasantly.

"That's right, Miss-" I falter, trying to recall the name she had told me.
"Oh, please forgive me but I'm not sure I remember you telling me your name."
I sigh, kicking my ankle with the heel of my shoe. I've always been bad with names, I just wish I'd paid more attention to someone so intriguing...

"That's because I didn't tell you my name darling." She smiles.

"It's Mildred. Ratched."

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