Please excuse my lack of updating...I have moments where I write a ton all at once and then I have stretches where I don't write for months. It's been 8 months, but I finally had a moment of inspiration and figured I'd get this out as soon as I was able :)
~Daisy
I didn't see her for a while after that.
Everyday, I watched and waited for her car. Every single day, I hoped she'd come back, even for just a day. Just so I could see she was okay.
The worry that plagued me made me frustrated; why was I so worried about where she was or what she was doing anyway? She had her own life, as an adult she should be more than equipped to be okay. I knew her well enough to know she would be fine without me, or rather, I hoped my reading of her was correct. I hoped she would be fine without me.
But in the back of my mind I still worried, I thought of her often, but always, but never, but only when I was sad, but then when I was happy I wanted to see her too; all these feelings all at once and it was confusing. All these excuses for why I wasn't thinking about her, yet I forgot to remember that the excuses were me actively thinking about her, because I'd never stopped.
Even acknowledging that I was going insane wasn't enough; I still looked for her car without thinking, still searched for her head of fiery curls in the halls, still crossed my fingers I'd pass her by, and still missed her.
Still, I didn't see her.
After a week, the longest she'd ever been gone without even a single appearance, I began to think I'd be better off with a different job. One where I wasn't constantly looking for someone who could never be found.
I had to accept that maybe she just didn't want to be found.
With all these thoughts troubling me, with all these emotions wreaking havoc on my mental state and emotional being, I continued on about my work day, completely unaware of my surroundings as I went through the necessary motions to get through it all, despite the troubling thoughts that muddled my brain.
Instructions to polish the wooden furniture in the larger dining room (yes, the larger of two dining rooms, not even counting the kitchenette for staff) had been left on my list for the day, which I had left for last because it took the longest and bored me the most.
Rich people were, in my opinion, quite odd. My Mother had been a doctor and worked hard for her money, but we didn't bother polishing our furniture. It was a pain in the ass.
The wood polish smelled horribly, which meant I wore ugly yellow dish gloves that went up to my elbows as I held my breath and sprayed the polish onto the furniture. The bottle reminded me of an aresol can that made a loud hissing noise every time I put even the slightest pressure on the top button. Each spray sounded like the air being rapidly let out of a balloon.
My own thoughts plagued me, to the point where I didn't notice when the door opened and shut behind me. I didn't notice when she walked in. I didn't notice I wasn't alone until she spoke. Trapped in my own mind, the only thing I'd noticed was that I didn't notice a lot.
That realization, of course, did me no good.
"You've been polishing that same spot for fifteen minutes now"
Her voice rung out through the air like a bell; crisp, clear, and present. As if she were a ghost, I spun on my heels to look behind me, where sure enough she herself stood.
At first I was relieved; I'd been expecting her for a while and the anxiety that came along with expecting someone who'd never arrived was somewhat debilitating; on the other hand, I was scared and nervous as to what she was going to say. I completely shut down, and with that, I completely forgot how to react.
"Addison"
My own voice sounded foreign to my ears; it was raspy and rough, as if I hadn't said two words all day, which really I hadn't. I kept to myself and waited for her. It was always her that plagued my mind and influenced my decisions; without her around, it almost felt strange not worrying about having someone's attention.
"Meredith'
She was the only person who called me that. I was exclusively just 'Grey' or 'Mer', never Meredith unless I was in trouble. But when she called me by my full name, something I'd never let anyone else do, it made my heart flutter.
"I hate to sound cliché" I start, after gathering up the courage to say anything at all "but where have you been? You just...disappeared" I had no explanation, no reasoning behind her sudden departure, nothing. It hurt, I won't lie, but I didn't want to let it show.
"I had something I needed to deal with" was all she said. That was it; that was her explanation.
She had something to deal with.
"Okay" I nodded, and without another word I turned back to the table I'd been polishing. I could hear her still standing behind me, perhaps wondering if she should say anything more or just leave it be.
She must've chosen the latter to option, because I heard a small sigh of defeat before her footsteps left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.
~
I'd spent the rest of the afternoon and evening finishing up my chores; I'd even taken on some extra ones to keep myself busy as I obsessively thought circles around the interaction I'd just had with her. Over and over, my mind raced as I over-examined every single word that was said.
Not like there were too many to count, but the few we exchanged were the few I replayed, nonstop, on a loop.
As if my life was now a bad lifetime movie special, the same things played out more times than I could count. I had to remind myself that thinking about it wouldn't make it change; she wouldn't suddenly come back and apologize. She wouldn't suddenly act like she was sorry for leaving for a week. She just...wouldn't.
After I'd finished my normal dinner duties, I'd gone the extra step and scrubbed the whole kitchen; the industrial-sized sink was scrubbed until my hands were raw, the stove and oven were both deep-cleaned until I could see my reflection in the steel, every single piece of silverware was shined to perfection and every single wineglass was shined until they all sparkled.
No expense was spared with Mrs. Forbes, I could always tell, because the wine glasses were perhaps the nicest ones I'd ever touched, easily worth more than I could've ever guessed. She had expensive tastes in quite literally everything.
Before I knew it, it was well after dinner and nearing into the night. Everybody had gone to bed, and by everybody I meant Mrs. Forbes and Susan, as Dr. Montgomery had been away for work for several days. I was completely left on my own.
I had honestly just assumed that Addison left again. Despite checking constantly the last week, I couldn't bring myself to look out the window for her car; I figured it would be gone and I couldn't handle the disappointment again. So, I just chose not to look, I chose to stay occupied instead.
Once I had finished up in the kitchen, I'd decided to move to the dining room. My mind was far too muddled to even entertain the idea of going to sleep yet, and I knew I could find something to do to keep myself moving almost as fast as my thoughts.
Moving towards the China cabinet that sat in the corner of the room, I began to go down the rabbit hole of wondering; did I mean anything to Addison? Was she thinking of me the way I thought of her?
Mindlessly, I opened the cabinet and began to work, keeping my hands busy and my mind anything but clear.
When I was polishing crystal glasses, ones that as far as I'd known had never been used but sat faithfully in the China cabinet as long as I'd worked with the family, my mind had slipped a little too far, and so had my hand.
Crash.
"Oh fuck" I muttered under my breath, sighing in discontent as I looked at the pile of broken glass at my feet. The crystal glasses, while gorgeous, were heavier than a normal glass. One now sat, broken into shards, on the floor instead of in the cabinet.
Without thinking twice, I bent over to pick up the shards. Really, I should've gotten some gloves, a broom and a dustpan, but my mind wasn't with me and my hands moved almost automatically to just clean up the mess.
"Ouch! Jesus Christ!" I swore again when, as should've been expected, a piece of the sharp glass cut my hand right down the centre of my palm. It stung like a bitch and began to bleed rather quickly, which was more of an inconvenience for me than anything else.
Swiftly, I rose to my feet and rushed to the kitchen off to the side. I swung the door open to rinse my hand in the sink and assess the damage, very unceremoniously and rather roughly, not expecting anyone to be on the other side. After all, it was nearing ten pm and as far as I knew, nobody else was awake.
Mrs. Forbes and Susan both kept a tight schedule, no matter the day. Very rarely did I see either of them wandering around past nine pm, and very rarely did I ever see one without the other.
I wondered what that was about, but I never asked.
Imagine my surprise when I, in my mad dash to the sink, was met unexpectedly with Addison for the second time in one day.
"Meredith?" She asked me, as I rushed to the sink and turned the water on. She seemed just as surprised as I was.
The cool water helped ease the sting of the cut, and as the blood washed down the drain, I'd realized it wasn't as bad as I'd originally thought.
When the assessment was done and I realized that my hand would indeed last another day, I let myself really notice that she was in the room with me. She hadn't left yet; she was still here, still just within my reach.
"Sorry, I broke a crystal glass" I sighed, leaning most of my weight against the side of the sink in an almost-slump type way, still holding my hand under the steam of cold water. I wasn't sure if my body was slumping from exhaustion or relief at seeing her, but either way, I suddenly felt like my body weighed a thousand pounds.
"I cut my hand cleaning it up, I'll explain to your Mother what happened in the morning"
Without missing a beat, she was next to me. I noticed immediately that she was wearing pyjamas instead of her normal elegant attire; a pair of light blue plaid pyjama bottoms and a white t-shirt donned her perfect body, while a pair of glasses I'd not yet seen graced the bridge of her nose. Those red locks, which I'd had my hands buried in not so long ago, were collected in a messy bun at the base of her neck, just loose enough that wisps of ember hung freely around her cheeks.
It took me by surprise that she took my breath away once again. She still looked stunning, it was almost unfair how somebody could look so absolutely amazing while putting in absolutely zero effort. Still, she looked airbrushed like a porcelain doll and beautiful in ways that I'd previously thought only existed in fiction.
"I'm not worried about the glass, and Bizzy won't be either. Any excuse to go shopping with Susan in Paris for new crystal" she brushed off my worries about the glass, and reached out to gently take my hand from under the water. She looked at it for a moment, and then while still holding my hand in one of her own, used her other hand to turn off the faucet and grab a paper towel to press onto my wound.
"You don't need stitches" she concluded, looking me straight in the eyes for the first time since I'd barged into the kitchen several moments prior. "I'll clean it and dress it. I've got a first aid kit in the bathroom in the basement" she's speaking to me gently now, a drastic tone change, so gently that I don't know how to respond.
As if I was a small child, I just nodded and let her take me by the hand, leading me carefully down the stairs and to the bathroom. Wordlessly, she opened the door and sat me down on the closed toilet lid, before unearthing the first aid kit from one of the cabinets.
My mind was spinning as I sat and watched her move around; still, even in the most unexpected circumstances, she seemed to float so gracefully. Movements she made were beyond me; I was a klutz on a good day, while she so effortlessly seemed to glide around, something I could never do myself.
"Does it hurt?" She asked me, as she opened a white plastic first aid box and fished around for some supplies. "It looks like it stings; you got yourself good" still using that gentle tone, one she pulled completely out of left field, she laid out some gauze, some peroxide, some antibiotic ointment, and some medical tape with tiny scissors.
"Not overly" I answer in what must be close to a whisper. I'm still in a shell-shocked state of having her this close to me once again, unexpectedly. I wasn't lying, either; it really didn't hurt much at all, which I wasn't sure if I should be concerned about or not.
"That's good, if it begins to ache or feel sore you can take acetaminophen, just not ibuprofen" she tells me, as she carefully takes my hand and wipes it down with a small alcohol pad. "Although, you probably know that. Med student and all" she sighs, seemingly annoyed with herself for giving me information I should've already known.
For a moment, she doesn't move. She holds my hand still and studies the wound. Her hand feels soft and my heart begins to beat quickly, in that moment I'm almost worried she'll be able to feel my beating pulse in my wrist.
"Either way, if it hurts, let me know. I'll find some Tylenol" she breaks the silent moment, and seems to shake herself out of staring at my open palm.
I've never seen her this out of sorts, and I don't really know what to make of it.
"Mhm" I hum out a little noise of agreement, a small hiss leaving my lips as the alcohol pad swipes over the wound again, leaving my skin stinging a little in its wake. "Okay, that stung a bit" I admit, watching as she puts down the alcohol pad and reaches for some antibiotic ointment and a q-tip.
"Sorry" she says earnestly, her eyes looking up to meet my own. "I really didn't meant to hurt you, even though I know I did" her eyes have an expression in them I can't quite place; it seemed to be a cross between regret and sadness, until I looked just a little bit deeper.
Guilt. She was looking at me with two eyes full of guilt as she cleaned my wound and spoke to me in such a soft tone I almost didn't know how to act. This person in front of me, this Addison, she was so different from the one I normally saw. The hard, cold, no-nonsense Addison who'd touched me in ways I couldn't have imagined just merely days before.
"Are you talking about my hand or are you talking about something else?" I asked, watching as she took in a deep breath, before looking back down to the q-tip in her hand. She was silent for a moment as she squeezed a small dollop of ointment onto the q-tip, but I could tell without asking that she was thinking of something to say.
The way her brow furrowed and her lips remained tight gave her away.
"For leaving" she answers me finally "I had sex with you, and then I was gone. I'm not vain enough to assume you missed me, but I'm smart enough to know that it was rude" she admits, as she delicately puts the ointment on my hand. "I should have spoken to you about it, you deserved a conversation at least"
Silently, I watch as she dresses my cut with gauze and tape, her eyes watching with precision at every single step. She was nothing if not thorough. While the silence was calm, it was also deafening, because I knew I had to say something.
She was right; it was rude of her to leave so abruptly.
But she was also wrong, because I did miss her. I looked for her every single day in a house that wasn't my home, and I looked for her constantly in places I knew she wouldn't be found.
After thinking for a moment, and after she had finished up bandaging my hand, I finally chose the right words, and I spoke.
"It was rude...and maybe I missed you"
She stopped what she was doing and turned immediately to face me once more. Shock and relief painted her face, as if she was just as worried as I had been despite the fact that she was the one who'd left.
"God, I wished you would say that" she said, breathless despite being still in front of me. For the first time, I looked at her and instead of being aware of how she made me feel, I noticed how I made her feel.
She was flushed, a light rose dusted her cheeks and I could tell without touching her that her heart was beating wild.
I didn't need to think about it before I leaned in and kissed her; for the first time in a week, my mind was quiet. Her lips against mine felt like a reward after a week alone, and my soul immediately felt at peace.
No thoughts, no regrets, no what-ifs.
Just. Her.