ellie's pov
Heavy eyelids, slow motion; I drag myself up the three flights of stairs - thanks to a lovely broken elevator that still hasn't been fixed, several months later - forcing myself to make it to my front door. I can hear the thumping of bass, coming from the apartment across the hall. A few drunken college boys live there and are constantly partying. I've grown used to the neverending noise. I would be more concerned if they were quiet.
Jamming my key into the lock, jiggling it as it gets stuck every so often. After a few frustrating moments, my door swings open, revealing a messy apartment I haven't had the time to clean. Not that I would clean it if I had the time though.
MEOW
I let out a groan, realizing that Crookshanks hasn't had any attention in 24 hours, meaning he isn't going to leave me alone. I glance over at her food bowl, empty and barren. I had left it overflowed with cat food, knowing I can't trust my idiot neighbors to actually feed her, no matter how much I pay them.
Feeling like I'm about to fall asleep right here on my kitchen floor, I grumble all the way to my hallway closet, grabbing a handful of catfood with this exhausted bitterness. Crookshanks follows closely at my heels, meowing loudly, as if he were scolding me for being gone for so long.
"When I'm a filthy rich doctor and we're living in a mansion and you have a lifetime supply of cat nip, you'll be thanking me," I grumble at him as I bend over to place the food in his dish.
The apartment feels even more lonely as I talk to my only companion; my old tabby cat that my parents got me as a housewarming gift when I finally got my own place. He chews loudly as I shuffle, kicking my shoes off on my way to my bedroom.
Though I was ready to collapse right here and now, I force myself to change out of my scrubs. I always wake up feeling dirty and full of germs whenever I crash in my work uniform. The hospital is crawling with germs and it's rather disgusting that I've actually worn my scrubs in my nice, clean bed.
The true life of a lazy girl.
Stripping down, I manage to throw a large t-shirt on over my naked body, one that I received from some charity event that my mom liked to organize. My mother is quite the humanitarian. She's always away at some charity function, or in some important meeting.
I mean, she has to busy herself with something with my dad always gone. He's a CEO of some large corporation that he doesn't stop talking about. Whenever he starts to go on about work, everyone in the family will doze out, knowing he won't stop until dinner's over.
It's not very often that I think about my parents. I can't help but to feel rather guilty about the fact. But then I remember how badly I wanted to get out of that house, and out from their strict rules and dry lifestyle, and I don't feel so bad.
I developed my rather introverted personality from a young age; I had to. My parents never really wanted me to hang out with other kids, unless their parents were really wealthy and my father could talk business with their parents. So to say I spent many weekends alone in my own bedroom is an understatement.
Though I can't say I minded being all by myself all that much. My school was full of girls with no self respect and boys with too much of it.
My body aches as I crawl into my bed, snuggling beneath my thick quilt, inherited from my great-grandmother when she passed away, but yet my mind is wide awake. I guess the several cups of coffee I threw back are finally starting to kick in.
Knowing just the trick, I lean off my bed, doing all in my power to avoid actually having to get up off of my bed, and grab my laptop from my desk. Booting it up, I set it on my bed beside me. As it slowly wakes up, I sleepily rub my eyes, getting dark remnants of mascara on the back of my hands.
As I tuck my knees to my chest, trying to stay warm in my intensely air-conditioned apartment - which could easily be fixed by walking myself over to the air-conditioning unit and turning it down, but that would involve moving - I rest my sleepy cheek upon my kneecaps, staring at the walls painted a delicate shade of green.
The color of the walls remind me instantly of the shade of the bruises decorating Liam's skin. My mind begins to wander back, recalling his dark chocolate eyes, matching the shade of a warm cup of hot cocoa, and his small array of beauty marks, sprinkled all over his flesh like little chocolate chips in a warm cookie.
A smile slides across my chapped lips as I recall the way little crinkles appeared when he smiled, framing those warm eyes of his. I can feel the patter of my chest increasing and intensifying the longer I think about him.
I'm still stuck in a state of awe over the fact that I met the boys of One Direction. That's every girl's dream. And they were just as beautiful and sweet as I had imagined they would be.
But realization hit me, just as it had when I left Liam's room earlier, that I'm going to have quite a lot of opportunities to horribly embarrass myself. I've already gone and done that within the first few moments of knowing Liam.
I've never been really good around cute boys. It's like they hold this secret power that takes my brain and turns it to complete mush. I could name you every part of the human brain, but ask me to remember my own name when in the presence of a cute boy and I'll just stare at you.
That's exactly why I've never really had a boyfriend before. I've been close, but as soon as things start to get serious, I start to get squirmish. I'm killing my own hopeless romantic fantasies.
Finally, my laptop starts up, displaying an incredibly adorable picture of Crookshanks as my desktop background. My tired fingers work quickly, bringing up Netflix as if it were second nature. Scrolling through my list full of tv shows I never have time to actually watch. Sleepily, I click on one of my favorite shows Grey's Anatomy; so stereotypical.
As soon as I reach over and turn off my lamp, I snuggle into my bed, all warm and cozy. It doesn't take long that my eyelids begin to droop. The last thing my eyes see before I drift off into a heavy slumber is McSteamy's beautiful face.
☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁
"Ellie, thank god you're here!" Chelsea exclaims the moment I walk through the front doors of the hospital. She wears a distressed expression on her dark skinned face, causing my chest to clench tightly.
She walks with me as I briskly walk through the hospital halls, sensing the frantic mood of the hospital. My heart beat continues to multiply, booming loudly in my chest.
"What's going on?" I ask her, my voice demanding an answer; strong and confident.
"Patient 443 is giving all the doctors an incredibly hard time," She explains, her pretty features clouded with stress and anxiety.
Groaning, I pull my hair out of my face, tying it up with quick fingers. My white hospital coat billows behind me as I break out into a quick jog across the hospital, knowing how much of a hassle patient 443 can be for the other doctors. I'm the only one he'll cooperate with. I knew this would happen if I took a day off.
"Nice to see you Dr. Vandergelt," Several other doctors greet me with respect as I quickly walk past them, not paying them any attention.
Finally, I arrive at patient 443's room, bursting through the room, catching him shouting angry words at another doctor.
"Hey!" I shout, causing him to freeze, staring at me with wide, shocked eyes, "Mr. Frenette, you're going to have to show the other doctors some cooperation as well," I sigh, rubbing the bridge of my nose.
"I'm not letting pretty boy here touch me," He grumbles like the bitter, middle-aged man he is.
I can't help but to let out a small chuckle at the little nickname Mr. Frenette has come up with. He's always quite creative with them. Last time it was 'puppy eyes', and the time before it was 'meat head'. They never cease to amuse me.
I glance over to Dr. Payne, unable to suppress my smirk. He simply stares back at me, completely unimpressed.
"You don't have much of a choice, old man," I shrug to him, giving him a stern look. He groans but nods, looking far more cooperative than when I walked in, "You're welcome," I wink over to Dr. Payne before strutting out of Mr. Frenette's room.
A few moments after the door closed behind me, it swings open once again. I stand there, my arms folded across my chest, the smirk still evident on my lips. Liam stands there, wearing a cocky glare on his face, his chocolate brown eyes narrowed in on me.
I give him a small, seductive laugh before turning around and heading off down the hallway. I don't get too far down the hall before he grabs a hold of my wrist, quickly spinning me around so I'm practically chest-to-chest with him.
"I don't appreciate your egotistical attitude, Dr. Vandergelt," He smirks, towering over me. I can smell his strong, musky cologne.
"I intimidate you, don't I? You feel threatened because you're taking orders from a woman, don't you?" I taunt him, going through our daily little game full of teasing that we do.
He lets out a low, gruff chuckle, shaking his head at me. The hand that still tightly grips onto my wrist loosens as he runs small circles with his thumb, causing goosebumps to form all along my flesh.
Ever-so-slowly, he starts to lean in, cautiously checking over our shoulders to be sure no one is watching the two of us. In-office romances are strictly off-limits. But he continues to get closer and closer to me, so close that our breathing mingles.
I close my eyes and ...
☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁
The moment I wake up, I stare at my ceiling in a state of complete embarrassment. I can feel my face growing hot, so stuck in disbelief.
I just had a romantic dream about one of my patients.
Granted, how can you blame me with Liam? He's one of the five most sought after boys in the entire world.
I glance around my room nervously and bashfully, as if there were someone that could watch my dreams and would scold me for dreaming about one of my patients. It's so unbelievably unprofessional that I can feel my conscience being weighed down with shame.
Glancing at my clock that reads 12:15 in the afternoon, I groan, knowing I need to report back to the hospital in an hour for yet another shift. Dragging myself out of bed, I force myself into the shower, shaming myself for even considering going another day without showering. That's when you know you're working yourself too hard, when you don't even have the energy to wash the filth off of your body. My mom would be so ashamed.
✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖
Starbucks cup in hand, I hurry into the hospital, running five minutes late, as per usual. Several of the nurses - all rather jolly women - shake their heads and smile at me as I rush past them. I give them a hopeless shrug, knowing my late tendencies will never change.
I manage to finish my coffee and lock up all my things in the staff locker room all in a matter of two minutes. Of course I make sure to do a quick mirror check before heading out there. I had a few extra minutes - clearly not as much as I thought I had, considering me running behind - so I threw my hair in a side braid, plaited as perfect as my frizzy blonde hair can get.
The moment I step out of the locker room and turn on my pager, it beeps loudly at me. I read it, ordering me to head down to Liam's wing immediately. The patter in my heart picks up instantly, worried that something horrible may have happened in the short amount of time I was gone.
I quickly rush through the halls, slowing down only to give Peter a small wave. I thank god I don't get stopped by Chelsea, knowing she's probably still rather upset with me.
Weaving through crowds of doctors and patients and other inhabitants, I finally make it across the hospital, heading down the rather quiet and empty hall. I bite my bottom lip nervously as I catch Dr. Frenette talking with one of the nurses, waiting for me.
"I'm here, sorry," I breathe, rushing up to him. He lazily glances up from his paper at me as he finishes his sentence with the nurse. She gives me a small smile before nodding to Dr. Frenette and hurrying off in the other direction.
Dr. Frenette lays his always harsh eyes on me, his thin lips set in an expressionless line. I continue to squirm beneath his gaze. I can't help but to be a bit self-conscious that he's noticing the extra effort I put into my hair this morning, or noticing the shimmery eye-shadow I put on, instead of simply coating my eyelashes with mascara.
"You seriously need to calm down, kid," He shakes his head as he puts the clipboard in my hands, "I don't think I've ever seen you not looking like a wound up chihuahua," He mutters.
I let out a sigh of relief, thankful that he's only reprimanding me on my rather bland lifestyle, not the fact that I'm fifteen minutes late. I can handle the scolding on being bland. He's been handing it to me the moment I stepped into this hospital.
"Mr. Payne had a bit of a rough night last night. He kept waking up and had a hard time dealing with his paralysis," He gets down to business, "I know you're good at cheering people up or whatever," He mumbles, his odd way of complimenting people. I graciously accept it, "So go in there and do you thing," He pats me on the shoulder before stalking off with his lanky frame.
I can't help but to mentally groan, burying my face in my hands. How am I supposed to look Liam in the eyes and not see him as McSteamy's reincarnation from my dream. I'm not good at hiding my embarrassment. He's going to know I'm hiding something the moment I step in there. I'm an open book.
But my hesitation quickly floats away as Dr. Frenette's words settle in my head. Liam had a hard time last night dealing with his new condition. Guilt and sympathy riddles deep inside my bones, building me enough courage to act professional, go in there and take care of your patient.
Taking a deep breath, still as nervous as I was the first time - ridiculous as that is - I open Liam's door.
The soft rumble of the television harmonizes with the irritating beeping of the heart monitors. Liam - who's still stuck lying down, due to his spine still having to heal - moves his head barely, his eyes landing on me as I enter.
"Ellie," He smiles, his voice sounding even more scratchy and groggy as it had the last time I was here.
"Hi," I reply nervously, instantly sounding like an idiot.
Here we go again.
"How are you?" I ask, easing my way with normal conversation, praying that I can at least handle that.
"I'm doing alright," He lies. I can see the pain and frustration behind those chocolate eyes. He tries so hard to appear so happy. It pains me even more so to see him struggle so hard to look happy.
Taking a few more casual steps inside, I set my clipboard down. I don't want to talk doctor to patient right now. That's not what's going to help him. That'll only freak him out more. I need to talk to him from person to person.
"You know one of my favorite shows is 'Lie to Me' so I'm pretty good at detecting lies," I smile at him as I sit down at his bedside, scooting the chair closer to him ever-so-slightly.
I can see the pain starting to fade slightly, but not all entirely gone. That charming smile of his appears on his face, making my breath uneven.
"Is that so?" He asks, highly amused. I merely nod, faking a smug look on my face. His laughter rings above the television, sounding rather wheezy, but I try my hardest not to let it bother me, otherwise I'll turn into that overbearing mother.
"Try me," I challenge, folding my legs beneath me rather clumsily, not at all graceful as I had intended it to look.
Liam's smile stays plastered on his face, making it pretty impossible for me to keep myself from smiling as well. He has this infectious personality, like an open book, easily read and interpretted. It only makes me more curious to all that he has hidden away in his endless amount of chapters.
"My life is rather boring, I can't think of any lies that will be believable," He chuckles, shaking his head.
"False," I counter, an amused grin lining my lips.
Liam's smile only grows in size, creating those adorable crinkles beside his warm eyes as he tilts his head back ever-so-slightly.
"You mean business," He raises his eyebrows, amusement written all over his face. My heart swells as I watch his mood improve as the moments tick by, "Okay, how about this... My favorite food is pancakes," He states.
But the moment the statement leaves his lips, his eyes are brightening up and he squeezes his lips in a firm line, as if he were suppressing laughter. Immediately, I burst into a fit of laughter myself, unable to contain it even slightly.
"You are horrible at this!" I exclaim, unable to contain my loud laughter. My sides begin to hurt and my eyes start to water from all the laughter.
Liam joins in quickly, an embarrassed shade of pink gracing his cheeks, visible even beneath the breathing tubes connected to his nose. His body shakes lightly with his loud laughter; the deep rumble of his, harmonizing with my rather high-pitched laugh that is not even near as attractive as his.
We continue on like this for awhile; joking and laughing and talking. It doesn't take long for me to forget where I am, or why I'm here. Liam isn't the poor boy who lost function of his legs. He's Liam, the boy who is awful at lying and even worse at detecting lies.
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an: more elliam fluff! [btw, elliam was the winning ship name. lillie was too similar to an actual name, i decided!]
thank you all so much for being patient! it makes me so happy you're all enjoying this story so much! i'm have /so/ much fun writing it! fjkdsafsda you have no idea how many liam feels i get from writing this!
this chapter is dedicated to @depressedsouls for being such a lovely human being and loving elliam already as much as i do! <3 thank you!
be sure to leave your thoughts, and i'll try my hardest to reply to them all! <3 i love reading what you guys think!
love always,
perksofbeingaweirdo