Asystole ✷ Mark Sloan

𝟬𝟳𝟮 this is me trying ¹

But now, Mark felt oddly empty sitting there.

He was making polite conversation. On a date.

It seemed as though half of Seattle had decided to go out on dates all at once. 

The restaurant was busy and they'd just ordered drinks. It wasn't a fancy restaurant but it wasn't rough either, he was wearing slacks but his palms were far from sweaty. Instead, he felt cold. He felt unusually stiff in his chair, like a mannequin that hadn't been posed properly. 

When he went to speak, it felt as though his teeth were stuck together. His jaw ached from the effort of parting it. Ever so often, he'd look over at the woman sitting across from him and wonder whether she had goosebumps too. 

He wasn't exactly sure what it was per se, but in regular sweeping intervals, it felt as though someone was walking over his grave.

His date cleared her throat, "I'm thinking of ordering the crab."

Bethenny Ballard sat in the chair as if she was in an office, sat behind a desk. 

She held the menu as if it was a medical chart, studying it with an intensity that made Mark's mouth twitch. Vaguely hearing her words, he nodded along, eyes trailing across the printed words. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the flash of her red lips as she smiled to herself, brushing her hair behind her ear. Like him, she was dressed with a slight grasp of neatness; in all honesty, Mark wouldn't have been surprised if she'd been going to a business conference.

"I, uh," He tilted his head to the side, looking down the list of foods, "I might go for the salmon."

She let out a sound of approval, nodding her head as he set the menu down and adjusted himself in his seat. 

Idly, he wondered whether she could feel it too, the very faint pressure that was shallowing out the conversation. As aforementioned, Mark couldn't exactly remember the last time he'd been on a date (if he had to estimate, he would've said an outing with Lexie pre-Sloan, before the waters had been disturbed by his surprise pregnant daughter and she'd decided that he wasn't worth it anymore) but he was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to feel this level of awkward. 

He hadn't felt like this for a long time, that was for sure.

From what he'd gathered, Bethenny was a very nice girl. 

She made good conversation and had a nice sense of humour, had a good taste in seafood restaurants and didn't question him when he'd asked her, out of the blue, to get dinner with him. 

Instead, she'd just smiled and commented on how she'd been here a week and she still hadn't found the best bluefin tuna on the West Coast. That, somehow, had led them to this.

They'd already made the niche small talk. The weather was nice, the day had been noticeably busy and Bethenny was respectively well settled into the city. Mark couldn't, for the life of him, remember what else there was to say. 

He was trying his best to survive through entrees but fully expected to ask his secretary to send him a fake page halfway through the main.

"I have to say," Bethenny began as the waiter left with their orders. She sat back in her chair and pushed her hair behind her shoulder. "I was surprised when you asked me out tonight."

He shifted in his chair, brow furrowing, "Really?"

"Yeah," She hummed lightly, clasping her hands in front of her and smiling. "Well, when you stood me up the other night at Joe's I figured you were not that interested..."