Asystole ✷ Mark Sloan

𝟬𝟲𝟴 baby did a bad, bad thing

𝙇𝙓𝙑𝙄𝙄𝙄.
BABY DID A BAD, BAD THING

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in the words of harry styles:
✧ this chapter is dedicated to touching ✧

TW: saucy but not explicit themes ahead

NEW YORK

"WE CAN'T KEEP them waiting..."

It's what Beth called to him as he tipped the cab driver; he thumbed through his notes and passed a hefty tip, thanking him for his patience.

The grin Mark gave him was sheepish.

The taxi driver just looked between the two of them (Mark, flustered and collar ajar, and Beth, lingering on the sidewalk with her knees a little too weak) and took the bundle of bills a little too aggressively, murmuring under his breath.

The woman on the sidewalk looked over Mark's shoulder, catching the grimace on his face as he rolled up the window and stepped on the gas-- Mark stepped back, looking over his shoulder at his girlfriend.

She raised an eyebrow, "Do you think he noticed?"

He turned towards her, jacket folded over one arm and eyebrow cocking very slightly as he watched her adjust her dress. Sighing, Beth stooped to check her reflection in the wing mirror of a parked car. Her hair was mussed ever so slightly so she ran her fingers through it as Mark pulled a face.

She ran her thumb around her lipstick, trying her best to clean it as Mark did the same, adjusting his jacket and rolling out the slight cramp in her shoulders-- she turned and looked back at him, meeting his dark bottomless eyes.

(He paused just to look at her, head from toe: the flush to her cheeks, the smile that was hidden in the corner of her mouth and the slight glimmer in her eyes. His lips twitched into a smirk.)

"No," Mark said breezily, reaching out to push her hair out of her eyes.

She stared back at him, lips parting very slightly as he shrugged nonchalantly; she wasn't convinced, there it was, that stupid grin that was almost cheeky. Beth's eyes wandered and she found herself admiring the bruise-like blemish on the underside of his jaw. She smiled to herself.

"I don't think he did--"

He was cut off by her hands grabbing onto his lapels and pulling him towards her. He was a head taller than her, but she still managed it. She brought him to her and kissed him deeply. It was so easy. He went without resistance.

It caught him off-guard, but he leant into it, his hands raising to either side of her jaw. She smiled into it, feeling his muscles tense as her hands trailed across his chest. Just as he got a little bit too into it, she pulled back, feeling the bite of the Manhattan wind against her cheek.

Beth felt his groan in her chest, chuckling to herself as he appeared very reluctant to let go-- Mark inhaled sharply and bowed his head, hands still stuck on her shoulders.

She tilted her head to the side, grinning at him.

"He noticed," was all she said as he pressed his lips against her forehead, "He definitely noticed--"