more than i can hold in my heart.

blush.

person A: are you... blushing?

person B: what, no.

A: did i get the ever-stoic, hardcore, total badass B to blush?

B: no... it's... it's the cold.

A: it's the cold? and not that i told you "your face is freaking adorable and i bet the rest of you is too?"

B: *blushing harder* *voice cracks* n-no.

×+×+×+×

Up until the half of her first intern year, Miranda Bailey was shy, always taught to be respectful of those above and generous to those below.

But as she grew in the surgical industry under Richard Webber, she changed.

Her snappy, witty inside self came out of her shell, and Miranda became the stubborn, respected surgeon she is today.

Although, don't get her wrong, the precious, shy, stuttering girl she was, never left.

And for that, she was grateful. After all, underneath being a tough surgeon and a caring mother, she was also a woman.

Although, she isn't really sure if that part of her was still alive.

But it doesn't matter. She was fine. Being a surgeon and being a mother is enough for Miranda. She doesn't need that kind of drama that apparently the whole hospital had reoccuring problems with.

She will rise above.

You can't hug being a surgeon at night, Mandy. I know Tucker wasn't the one for you, so the man for you is still out there. Look for him, baby.

Elena Bailey's voice echoed in her head.

Miranda sighed and looked at her bedside clock. 4:15 AM. Her shift wasn't that early today, but she really couldn't sleep.

She debated on whether to just get up or try to sleep, and she ended up pushing the blankets off her legs and stretched before getting ready to get up.

×+×+×+×

Miranda took a deep breath and smiled. The sun has barely risen and the early morning air was making her feel calm.

Calm and collected. She has to keep calm. No matter how lonely, and empty the bed seems, she is calm, and collected. No matter how much she misses a man's touch, she is calm, and-

She felt hot liquid going down the side of her coat. "Oh shit, I'm sorry, I didn't- I'm sorry. I wasn't looking."

The short woman whipped around to see a man hurrying to wipe the unsalvagable mess on her coat. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Beautiful, apologetic brown eyes looked up at her. For a second, her breath hitched. He was handsome. His eyes shone, trying to apologize silently, and his forehead scrunched up adorably.

Miranda closed her eyes and kept her composure. A scowl colored her face.

"Well?" She asked, her voice raised. "I am simply minding my own business and here you are, spilling coffee everywhere like some blubbering fool!"

His deep voice resonated in her. "I'm so sorry. I'll buy you a new coat. I wasn't looking, I'm running late on my new job, and I'm probably getting even more late now. I'm so sorry."

Her scowl softened. "It's fine. Look where you're going next time."

She raised her hands and took off her coat, showing her thin t-shirt. She shivered. Damn, it was cold.

"Here." The man took off his jacket and slumped it on her shoulders. It's warm. Something fluttered in her stomach. "It's yours. I'm really sorry. I gotta go, I'm really late."