Open Heart {Under Revision}

Chapter 11- Hour Midnight

The car drive was going to be disastrous.

Today—okay, today plus yesterday since it was well past twelve were really, really the strangest days of my life ever since I came to Boston. I mean for instance, I couldn't believe that I was riding with Dr. Ethan Ramsey—my freaking idol—the man whom I've followed since college days. Since I was freaking fourteen for god's sake! And now, here I was—in his car which cost nearly equal to my pending credits at Johns Hopkins and cruising back to Edenbrook. Interns, residents, any attendings, physicians and pretty much any person in this would kill for this chance to at least have a pleasant conversation with him. People ran away from him not because of fear but due to his enigmatic personality which simply aroused a blow-shock in population. And yet, here I was.

And my back was straighter than a ramrod, my limbs perfectly frozen in an awkward position. It was difficult to even continue normal respiration, not when his beguiling presence and mind-numbing, world-forgetting masculine incense induced so many, so freaking many new heebie-jeebies that I couldn't help but barely try to conceal rising color in my cheeks. This was certainly the perfect definition of being in proximity with a sinful person. And he had black tinted windows. I meant black-freaking-tinted windows!

The ride was supposed to be effortless yet here I was, enduring a great test of my patience and resolve.

What the heck is happening?

From corner of my eyes, I watched him. Dr. Ramsey had again ditched his coat and somehow managed to find time to change into a tactile dusk enlivened (how that color existed was a mystery) shirt, so flaring that if I would run a hand on the fabric— it would rasp like a breathless lady. Not that I was going to do it, mind you. Not in a million years. His sleeves were rolled off which displayed powerful hands gripping the sleek steering wheel of his astoundingly beautiful sedan. And that was the hand which punched a freaking column— holding whole Edenbrook without even scraping a minute mark of ever doing such bestial activity. I just wondered how Dr. Harper Emery felt being held by those arms. No wonder she was trying to not let him go.

Even in brightness of streetlight and interior neon illume of car, his eyes were assertive as attending. In some moments, I thought multiple phantasms played before my eyes upon finding his downright-worldlier blue eyes to be glowing as calescent as bioluminescent bacteria did on beaches of Maldives. Not that I was comparing Dr. Ramsey with bacteria—do not dare to assume that. Jesus, but his eyes were just...god, I thought words would simply disintegrate to ever rise in my mind. There was just one line of truth I would confer—he had the most transcendental eyes I have ever seen in my life. Or come across. And his figure almost took the whole seat yet it didn't feel looming, rather just...strong.

God. God. Help me now, this isn't how I wanted things to be.

I couldn't think about anything else. Or any topic except failing to prevent my mind or my eyes from drifting to my attending. My heart, damn, that was just beating thousand miles per second—medically impossible but literally true if you touched my chest. It thundered like his sedan, thump-thump-thump, birthing quickening of my pulse and my breaths. I have never held my breathing so long—not even when I would be living underwater in seas of San Diego. This was just....oh god—that damn scent of his—he felt good. God. God. My idol was right beside me, hushed and a walking-disaster to wreck my life into two. I haven't felt anything like this before—this confounding sear of emotions or rigidity of my stomach or the fact that even with air-conditioner my skin was sweating inside my clothes. I rarely sweat but today...I was simply just damp all over. And added to the fact that he, an embodiment of supremacy was silent— not even looking at me by any chance while me, a soot-covered, dirt-laden chemical smelling intern was unabashedly staring at him.