❛𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄...❜ | 𝟏𝟖+

𝟎𝟑 | 𝑁𝑦𝑐𝑡𝑜𝑝ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑎...

༺ 𝙽𝚢𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊: 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 － 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚡𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜... ༻
༆ 𝙿𝙾𝚅: 𝙱𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚡 ༆

I feel my body expeditiously arise at the beautiful crack of dawn, a hazy and prepossessing sunrise softly ghosting over my onyx, uniquely shared homestead. As much as my demurely unlit personality type falls under the understanding category of 'night owl', I would find it safe to say that I am half as much a person of the morning. The piercing light twitters of bluebirds flying above the colossal mass of cumulus clouds prettying the sun-bright sky, vexatious bronze hens cuckooing to signal their vociferous, unwanted arrival, and the radiant sun which dawns the crisp and clear day just about peeking through the flecks of gold and pink surrounding it as the day promptly begins. I love the morning.

My venture to furtively climb out of bed is immediately sabotaged, as the figure behind me yanks drastically on my arm, my elbow the epitome of my weak body forcing me to come crashing back down onto the plush, ductile mattress, which is now once again below me. "Back to bed." the short, sharp command comes from a weakly debilitated Sloan, who slowly stirs in a mid-sleeping position, slumped downward in her drizzling slumber, pulling me back into her congenial embrace. Clearly, my significant other doesn't share my optimistic thoughts on the early hours as myself.

"I have to work, Sloan. I can't just show up whenever I want like you do." after numbly announcing my retrying departure, her luscious lips begin a loaded, darkened path up along my collar bone, said path filled with persuasion, inviting me back into our contented and open bed, an invite I am eager, however adamant to accept, the small fear of being late for work more demanding.

"Do I seem like I care?" her strong, sharp nails dig downwardly into my scalp, clustering and curving together to gain a tough, unbreakable and firm grip on the roots of my long brunette locks. She pulls my skull rearward in a razor-edged motion, able to haul my head any direction she sees fit with the capture. Sloan's sugary-sweet kisses begin trailing toward my well-constructed jawbone, pecking lightly, yet enticingly. A small grin curves it's way on my mouth, her rhetorical question piquing a little sense of humour in me. "Not particularly..."

The sweetened lips that were once gingerly brushing against my pale skin reach up toward my left ear, whispering huskily deep into my eardrum. "That's because I don't." I mentally scurry back and forth between my two factors that are equally as compelling...but I obviously find that the more tantilising and sensual one outweighs the other lifeless option, when I freely allow my body to be rolled over the top of the more edging one that was originally willing the action. "I guess five more minutes wouldn't hurt..."

A contented sigh drifts out of my open-gaped mouth as I warmly snuggle back into Sloan's arms, her pointed fingers drawing an unbeknown picture on the drop of my spine, and her palm flattens as it approaches my tail bone. As the same hand's pressure leaves my body, I feel it satisfyingly smack back down onto my backside in a prickling sensation I rock strongly against. "Mm, Sloan..."

She curls her sharp finger into my right hip, very close to the area she previously spanked with her capable hand, growling deeply... "Do me a favour, Beatrix...bend yourself over...now."

Somehow, despite my rather adventurous morning delight, I arrive into work efficiently and thankfully on time, a situation which I previously deemed impossible to occur caused by my tardiness. "Dr. Prez?" a shaking oesophagus speaks out to me as my hand wields a susceptible board rubber, which scrubs airily across the packed OR board as I push back my next surgery due to unforeseen repercussions. Still facing away from the person stood behind me, I reply with a slight expected dictatorial tone in my voice, my medical status in the hospital's hierarchy allowing this. "What is it?" the timid voice speaks out shyly yet again, seeming intimidated by me, the unequivocal certainty that it is one of Chicago Prez Infirmary's surgical residents of a sure length. "Dr. Grey sent me to find you for a consult. Are- are you free?"

At the request of practicing medicine again in the last 10 minutes after hours of scut work, I find my excitement rate exceed at the light mention, the upcoming consult gaining my interest. "I am. Tell Dr. Grey I'll be right there." after spending a few solid minutes rearranging my upcoming surgeries to a state that I saw fit, during my line of trail toward said consult, I run into Dr. Meredith Grey, general surgical attending at my family's hospital, and also a good friend of mine since my internship here. "I was told you need me for a consult?"

"Yes, I have a patient who's come into the ER complaining of stomach pains after falling and hitting her head, signs of possible a concussion, nothing drastic, but better to be safe than sorry." I nod in agreement with Meredith's medical statement, following her closely as she directs me toward an ocean-coloured drawn hospital curtain, which is pulled open to reveal a very familiar face, one that I'd never forget, even if it has been a certain number of weeks after it left my eyesight, my pupils growing achingly sore at the loss of sight of her.

"Juliana?" my shocked tone matched with my exclaimed sentence catches the attention of the newly found woman, who's head turns quickly to face mine, an expression filled with a level of consternation. "Beatrix!" as I previously stated, I'd recognise that face of beauty anywhere, especially for how it sparkles with such refinery that it takes my breath away. I find myself hazed by her much appreciated appearance, taken off guard, a rug below me yanked harshly. After mentally refusing to allow anyone to see me stutter like a blubbering mess, I regain my once lost composure, adding a sensory hint of divine, flirtatious femininity to allow my personality to return. Crossing my arms with a half-grin, "Did you miss me that much you made yourself sick, Juliana?"

Her reticent face morphs into a look of problematic distress, my paltry rhetorically asked question being met with this worried one response. "Oh, n-no, I- I-" soothing her overwrought emotions, Meredith chuckles her usual, girly, light laugh at Juliana's diffidence, casting a generous eye my way in an underlying sense. "Relax Miss Odom, this is normal behaviour for Dr. Prez. You aren't the only victim of her coquettish attitude, and I doubt you'll be the last." my pupils sharpen, the blue in them enhancing my potential social ability.

I easily decide to candidly ignore my associates sentence and retrive a light pen from my white coat pocket, flicking it on to produce a bright shine, and before I attempt to glisten it into Juliana's gorgeous, hazelnut with a sprinkle of golden eyes, I gesture toward her, silently asking if I have permission to touch her, a grant I hope will be accepted. "May I?"

"You may." access confirmed, I tilt her pointed chin upward, the minimal action of my hand wielding her beautiful face setting me alight. Juliana's eyes gracefully follow the whereabouts of the light clasped between my forefinger and middle, and I suddenly realise how soft and delicate her face is in the tip of my fingers. I shine the light into her mud eyes, finding nothing wrong medically, however I must find the time later on to recover from the beautiful view before me, as I myself may develop a concussion of my own. "No obvious signs of ICP. Have you felt dizzy, nauseous or hazy since your accident?"

Juliana begins her lengthy thought process, thinking about every letter and syllable of my sentence before replying in a prompt manner. "A little." a bead of concern forms in my brows, knitting together minimally, as my curiosity peaks as to what her underlying condition entails. "Order a head CT just to be on the safe side." a look of intense worry spreads across Juliana's chocolate-coloured face, a clear prediction that she has some kind of moderate to intense anxiety about the concept of hospitals, and my specific presence. Sensing this, I reply in a hope to install an amount of reassurance into that pretty little heart of hers, no interest in placing any kind of crack into it. "There's no need to be worried, Juliana. The CT just rules out any neurological damage caused due to your fall."

Despite my words at endeavouring encouragement, I however still notice a feel of discomfort lingering in the open aura around her worried body. I take the unused seat beside her thin bed, placing a comforting hand on the back of her minimally trembling left one, stilling the wobbling sensation of flesh in hope to I still security. "You're in my hospital, Juliana. There's no way I'm going to let anything happen to you under my care. That you can be sure of." my soothing feminine voice places a smile of relief and joy across her smooth skinned face, one that my tongue darts out to sweep over my pink apertures at, as if I'm licking honey from the sugary saccharine margins of them. "Thank you, Beatrix. Your reassurance means a lot to me."

After begrudgingly slowly detaching myself from Juliana's bedside, I traipse up to the nearest nurses station with her chart in hand, reading over the medical necessities before initiating a short conversation with the kind, young nurse situated behind in pale pink scrubs, tilting her head up as she notices my approach. "Schedule a head CT for Juliana Odom, as soon as possible." after I offer her the scribbled chart, I'm met with a customary smile of kindness as she confirms my request. "Right away, doctor."

As I turn on my professional heel, in no pace to dawdle, and my white coat swaying at my bodily movements, fastly heading for the hospital Gantry Area, I'm immediately stopped short by two of the hospitals most finest surgeons, who I am each frequently acquainted with on a daily basis, and I know exactly where the damned conversation we're about to have is headed, a road I'd much rather avoid all together. "I met her a few weeks ago. That's all."

The Chief of Surgery steps up, his concern enlightened by the prospect of me underperforming due to my relations with the patient. "Prez, do I need to take you off this case?" I hold in an eye roll, capturing it tightly within my being, as while I may co-own the hospital, it would be considered beyond rude to make such a gesture toward someone of such importance. Just because I'm dominant, doesn't necessarily mean I'm ill-mannered. "No, Chief. I'm perfectly capable of carrying out a head CT." Dr Webber intakes my hint knowingly, recognising in his mind that I'd never act under a third party influence medically, unless I was in a situation where I would deem it applicable. "I'm sure you can, Beatrix."

In an attempt to line out the tension in the air, I direct my attention toward Meredith, eager to rule out any more potential health problems. "Make sure to get a blood test to rule out appendicitis for her stomach pains, I want all basis' covered. " I'm unaware as to what underlying feelings Juliana has about the concept of hospitals and being in them, but I know for a damn fact that pigs will fly before I allow a patient to feel any sense of unsafety in my ER, known or not.

I've taken the sweet liberty of aiding Juliana on the journey for her head CT, keen in making sure her medical needs are fulfilled, as soon as possible. Somehow, the topic of conversation as managed to turn into my profession, more specifically how I arrived in the fortunate circumstances. "And you're only 30 years old?" I continue to push Juliana's wheelchair until we reach our aimed destination, eventually entering the Gantry Area where her CT is due to take place as we begin to delve deeper into one another's personalities, the night spent together in the club not exactly giving us the time nor energy to do so. "Yes. I was able to attend medical school at the age of 20, became a surgical intern here at 24 and now i'm Chief of Neurosurgery after passing my board exam one year early."

A certain brightness sprinkles across the bridge of her nose, my excelling career cutely galvanising the woman in awe. "How impressive..." I give Juliana the necessary time she needs to slide her intricate body onto the adamantine scanning table, her bum perching on the circular edge lightly followed by a gentle swift swing of her legs onto the surely uncomfortable bed. I notice Juliana wince painfully at the hard contact of the metal on her diaphanous body. I speak to her with a pinch of relatability as I fit in the equipment to hold her head perfectly still for the scan, my fingers purposely skimming over the outskirts of her soft face. "I know it's not exactly memory foam, but it'll only be for a few seconds. I'll be in the other room if you need me." I casually dismiss the room, entering the scan room and taking a seat in the comfortable spinning chair beside Mer.

"Was a CT scan really necessary?" I lean backward into my black-leather swivel seat, drumming my fingers lightly on the arms in darkened anticipation." I like to cover all areas, Grey. You should know that more than anyone." I plainly state, and after a few seconds of searching silence, dismissing a questionable atmosphere hanging in the air, the results of Juliana's CT scan come back, printing onto the computer screen. "Doesn't show any abnormal findings. However, I think you made the right call." I spend several minutes staring at the screen before me, scanning my eyes over the relative areas time and time again for any signs of abnormality, and each time I turn up with nothing. "Beatrix? I said she's fine."

Despite Meredith's attempt at reassuring me, a niggling feeling of doubt in my mind just won't take it for an answer. "I know, Mer. I'd still like to prescribe some acetaminophen for pain relief, and that blood test. People don't have stomach pains for nothing." Meredith casts a knowing look my way, one that I've gotten often, something that resonates a maternal glance, and would usually expect from my mother as she disproves one of my life choices. Being the youngest attending definitely has its gratuitous disadvantages along with it. "Don't look at me like that." I demand, which is coolly shaken off by a 'tsk'.

"Are you gonna stick around for the results?" as much as I'd find sheer interest in discovering the problem beneath Juliana's stomach pains, eager to make sure she leaves my hospital healthy and alert, I ransack my brain for possible outcomes, one sticking in my mind that consists of me feeling my heart pound outside of my chest, my palms clam and sweat up, and not to mention a thrumming sensation within the walls of my ribcage in anticipation. After knowing this woman's existence on earth for such a short period of time has attracted a sense of emotion from me that usually takes a person months to activate. Why do I feel this worrying feeling for a human I know so little about? "I have a craniotomy in 10. Have your resident page me when the results are back though."

I leave the airily hostile room without another word, finding it strangely incapable of holding my weight and anxiety any longer. I'd prefer not to go down the dark and treacherous path of simply admitting the Chief of Surgery was correct about his previous statement, however it looks like that's where I'm headed, the beginning of the lonely trail more than anticipated...

I tear the baby blue gown away from my body, ripping it forward and screwing it up into a tight ball of mixed emotions, thankful that someone else's bodily fluids have been extracted from my human. Peeling the mask away from my face, I turn back toward my exceptional resident, my words aimed directly at her. "You can close up, Edwards. I have somewhere to be."

I don't see the point in waiting for a response as I'm more keen to discover the answers to the question which has been ringing around my brain time after time, like a game of Ring-Around-the-fucking-Rosie, an endless circle destined to be repeated until I find a viable answer to the stapled query enclosed in my mind. After leaving my OR, I return to where Juliana's bed was last stationed, finding her gowned, as if she's about to go into surgery, and a crowd of interns semi-circled around her bed, Meredith standing on the other end of the crowded group.

"What's going on?" before I can get the answer my brain desperately needs to end its cycle of repetitiveness, I'm interrupted by a prompt and rather discourteous intern. "Juliana Odom, 22 years old, scheduled for an appendectomy in OR two." if you thought I'm the kind of woman who doesn't tend to flaunt their corrected opinion in another's face, you'd be quite wrong. "Appendicitis?"

As this is a straight forward procedure that any mere doctor could perform, I'd much prefer my more than qualified Chief of General Surgery carry out the operation, as if that were to be the case, I'd be more than able to allow my spinning thoughts to take a well-deserved break, resting peacefully for the remainder of my shift. The new set of surgical interns began their journey in the medical community a handful of weeks ago, and the first surgery carried out by an intern is due to be an appendectomy, given it's a simple process, however closely assisted by a qualified attending. Before I give myself the chance to ask which one of them will be wielding the scalpel, I have an unsettling eagerness to pull aside my fellow colleague beforehand, sharing my light concerns. "Dr. Grey, a word?"

Innocently following me behind the nearest curtain, I draw it closed and immediately begin dishing out my worries for the upcoming proceedings. "Meredith, please don't tell me you're going to allow one of those surgical imps to cut that poor woman open?" the seconds quickly tick by and eventually increase into a high enough number to which I find that my rhetorical question is proven to be painfully more true. A look of recognition passes over me, and as Meredith notices this she uses the best of her abilities to calm my now once again racing mind. Damn, Meredith. If it'd been anyone else... "I'll be assisting them through the entire surgery, Beatrix. You have no reason to worry-"

"No reason?! Meredith, they don't know their scalpels from their asses!" I hear a body clear it's throat expectantly, waiting for a certain something from me. An apology, prehaps? God, no. I flush the baby blue curtain back once again, to notice the several interns I pulled Meredith away from shyly averting their gazes to their fiddling hands. Has no one taught these people to stand up straight? "We uh, we can still hear you, Dr. Prez...it's just a curtain..." a whine of exhaust rolls off of my tongue, the noise of irritation bound to be repeated again soon.

"We're a teaching hospital, Beatrix. How do you expect the future generation of surgeons to be born unless we teach them basic surgeries?" deep down, past all the godforsaken emotion held in my abdomen, I know that my colleague is correct. God rest every injured soul if the future surgeons of Chicago cannot carry out mere operations...

I place myself wearily on the navy blue seat in the far left of the ominous gallery, waiting nervously for the appendectomy to begin. After scrubbing in, Meredith and an intern I don't recognise walk into the OR, sauntering inward and preparing the anaesthetic. Chief Webber enters the gallery also, keen on witnessing the iconic moment that kicks off the new interns year, and just so happens to take a seat beside my nervous, crippling body. "Don't you have surgery, Prez?"

"I finished thirty minutes ago, Chief. Mr Brooker is sure to make a full recovery." I can feel his shallow, weary eyes ghosting over my figure as the surgery below us begins－knife to skin. The intern's shaking hand draws across Juliana's wispy skin, a faint line of blood appearing visible to my eyesight from far away as the scalpel draws a miniature semi－circle. "Beatrix, maybe it's best you're not here for this."

Inhaling a strong, sturdy breath of wisdom, I continue viewing the scenery without hesitation. "I'm fine, Chief. I observe surgeries all the time." I lean forward, onto the edge of my seat in utter angst. My thrumming heart beats against the barrier that is my flesh, wanting to come sprouting out. Why do I feel this terrifying feeling? I've barely spent an hour with the young girl herself, and I feel as if my life is about to end at the mere sight of a scalpel being drawn across her skin. "Not surgeries when people you care for are on the operating table, Beatrix. Go and catch up on scut. That's an order."

Despite my sublet protestations, the Chief waves me off, and I begin stalking my body out of the gallery, feeling the sheer failure of my attemption to reassure myself...until I hear the recognisable sound of an EKG monitor rapidly beeping, the familiar noise a cause for immediate concern. My body rushes toward the window, noticing the chaos occurring below me as the selected intern stammers in his actions, unsure of how to proceed in the correct fashion. A flurry of spleen rushing through my artery, I press the intercom with a straining finger, another wave of need to flaunt my correct observation peaking. "Damn it, Grey! I told you this would happen!" I stare blankly as the scene continues to unfold, the beeping the only noise that is intelligible to me...

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a/n: I am absolutely vying for the sexy female doctor aesthetic, lol.
And let's be honest...Webber definitely was the best Chief out of them all. Fight me. You'll loose.
Who's your favourite greys character, if you've seen it?
Alex and meredith have to be my forever favourites ❤︎︎
I hope you're enjoying the book so far ఌ
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