trauma [m.s]

xxxiii.

- - -
we all get at least one good wish in a year over the candles on our birthday. some of us throw in more, on eyelashes, fountains, lucky stars. and every now and then, one of those wishes come true.
- - -

sitting on joe's couch, her elbows resting on her knees and her head resting on her hands, chloe is intently watching him stand, cooking in the kitchen. after a few moments of watching and deliberating, silently, she pushes herself to her feet and walks over to him.

"so, uh, i don't cook," chloe tells him.

"nobody asked you to cook," joe turns his head to smile at her.

"i know," chloe nods. "i'm just saying that, you know, i don't cook. so you don't have to cook. i don't expect you to cook for me."

"okay. you- sit there," joe turns away from the stove and points to one of the empty stools around his kitchen island, but she doesn't move. "sit down," he repeats and a small smile tugs at her lips as she obliges. "i want you to drink this and try really hard to act like you aren't scary and damaged."

"i'm not scary and damaged," chloe shakes her head as she takes a mug of coffee from his hands.

"yeah, you are," joe nods, returning to the stove.

"no!" chloe chuckles. "i'm not scary or damaged."

"mm-hmm. all right," joe nods, clearly unconvinced, as he places a plate of scrambled eggs and toast down in front of her. "then why don't you tell me about your family?"

she didn't want to speak about her family, but even if she did, she wouldn't know where to begin- her dead parents, her dead baby, her ex-husband who also happens to be his boss, or her sister who slept with said ex-husband?

"okay... me not wanting to talk about my family does not make me scary or damaged," chloe nervously chuckles.

"okay," joe leans down on the island across from her, meaning their faces are less than a metre apart. "tell me about the last guy you slept with."

chloe's eyes flick up from her eggs to meet his, but her mind is now only focused on mark- how no man she'd ever been with had been able to make her feel the way he did when he touched her.

- - -
so what then? is it as good as we hoped? do we bask in the warm glow of our happiness or do we just notice we've got a long list of other wishes waiting to be wished.
- - -

"what did you say to him?" arizona asks chloe whilst placing a whitening strip onto the top row of her teeth.

"nothing," chloe shrugs, plucking her eyebrows in front of arizona's bathroom mirror. "i fled the scene."

"you didn't tell him about mark or owen?" arizona's voice is muffled due to the whitening strip.

"nope," chloe shakes her head.

"hmm," arizona hums, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "you like him."

"i could like him," chloe reluctantly admits.

"is the sex any good?" arizona steps back to take a seat on the edge of her bathtub.

"i don't know," chloe says, focussing on what she's doing with the tweezers.