Flatline ✷ Mark Sloan

𝘅𝘅𝗶𝗶. PETUNIA *

Maybe she wouldn't have even recognised him if he hadn't called her name.

But there he was, leant against a town car with a golden smile, the kind that told her he knew the exact answer to the question, even before he'd repeated it.

Goosebumps raised on the back of her neck but she knew it was, more than likely, just the westerly breeze.

Beth bit on the tip of her tongue and blinked, once and twice as she registered the man standing in front of her––

"Jesus fucking Christ," she mumbled under her breath.

A grin flashed across his face, crooked and wide and already convinced that he knew the answer––

"What do you think?" He repeated.

What did she think?

She thought that she was going to need something a bit stronger than champagne to survive tonight... especially when Mark looked like that.

There was something about a meticulously dressed Mark Sloan that set Beth on edge.

Before, when he'd been thrown into Derek's clothing, he'd looked like a tall child playing dress up.

Sure, he'd looked handsome in the way that he always did, but Beth hadn't missed how the pants had cut a fraction short on the leg and the blazer had bunched at his shoulder blades–– she'd noticed every detail and would notice every detail about him until she was exhausted––

But this...

Ah.

When Beth didn't speak, he answered for her:

"Like a God, right?"

As she just stared at him, cogs turning at the back of her head, he adjusted his cuffs and leant forwards.

A wave of his cologne stretched out towards her, as if to drag her into her death.

"Fits like a glove––"

He filled in her silence and Beth could just about manage a scoff.

"––that's exactly what you're thinking, I can see written all over your face––"

Her face contorted and she rolled her eyes, walking towards him with the reluctance of a woman who knew tonight was going to be a really long night. Her cell phone was in one hand, a handful of band aids in the other, just anticipating the way these shoes would pinch her toes.

And yet, out of everything, she was convinced Mark's ego would be the most painful experience to come out of today.

"Wow," Beth remarked, "Did Calum teach you to read minds too?"

"Turns out he kinda knows a lot," Mark shrugged off-handedly and Beth's eyebrows rose. It was a statement that she hadn't expected at all."...and, owns one hell of a wardrobe by the way––"

"Mhmm––"

"He actually knows how to clean up alright––"

"Oh c'mon," Beth said, trying to play off the way her hair stood upright, "Don't make me say told you so––"

"Never," It was Mark's turn to scoff and she was close enough for the sound to go right through her: she faltered in her step as he grinned at the ground, "I'd never give you the satisfaction, Montgomery."

"Never?"

"Swear on my heart," He said, but his smile was too wide and almost childish.

Beth rolled her eyes.