Ochre

I have quite a collection of oneshots sitting on my laptop, and after some encouragement I've decided to start posting them under the title of "Ochre" (so chosen because when I created a Lithan aesthetic/inspiration board, this colour kept returning, and now it's become synonymous with this pairing in my head!)

"I need a hug. No, I need your hug."
After a testing shift, Lily realises that there's only one person she wants. (You can read into this what you will, I don't think I've made it explicit that they are or are not a couple, so you can read it platonically or romantically as you wish.)

Lily's mind felt all wrong, like it was short-circuiting under the stress of such a punishing day. Normally, she would have gone straight home as soon as the clock hit the end of her shift, with a view to curling up under her duvet and waiting for the storm to pass. But today, they'd been so short-staffed that she had had to stay in the department even after her shift had ended. It wasn't the Clinical Lead's preferred course of action, she knew, but sometimes it just had to be done. In fact, Lily should have left the hospital five hours ago. She mentally totalled up the hours in her head. Too many for one day. In one twenty-four hour period, she had spent more time working than not.

Her mind was wired: there were so many thoughts circulating that she'd lost track of which were important. There were three (four?) separate files that needed her signature. Two birthday parties, of university friends, that she needed to find a way to duck out of attending. One post-mortem report that she needed to add a statement to. And a partridge in a pear tree, she thought dully, reeling off the list that was weighing so heavily on her mind. But there was more too… Something Cal had said, about her being a wet blanket where anything fun was concerned. A patient who had found her a little too brisk, when really she was just exhausted, and hadn't wasted a moment in telling Mrs Beauchamp how inadequate her staff were. And Ethan.

Kind, sweet-natured Ethan, who had seen the stress in her eyes, hours ago, when he had started his own shift. Ethan, who had offered to take her home, an offer which she had refused because she didn't want to put him out of his way. It wasn't his job to look out for her, after all.

Lily drummed her fingers against the glass front of the vending machine. Even deciding which bar of chocolate she wanted seemed like too lofty a request for her brain to process. She closed her eyes momentarily, and rested her too-warm forehead against the glass.

"Um, Lily?" It was Ethan's voice.

She felt a twinge of embarrassment. Standing upright, turning to face him, she replied hastily. "Yes? I'm fine, just…" Just. One word, and yet it meant so much. She was just tired, just mentally exhausted. Just so many things, all of which stubbornly refused to form themselves into coherent sentences.

Ethan seemed to silently appreciate her inner troubles, as he reached over her shoulder and fed some coins into the machine. He tapped at the digital screen, and a packet of chocolate buttons flopped lazily into the tray at the bottom. Lily bobbed down to pick them out, before passing them to him.

He shook his head. "No, they're for you." And when Lily started rummaging in her pocket for some change to give him, he put a hand over hers quickly. "No, you look like you need a little pick-me-up, my treat."

"Thank you," she said, leaning back against the vending machine. She barely wanted to stay standing, but no doubt it would concern Ethan further if she inelegantly slid down the glass front to sit on the floor.

"Do you still want that lift home them?" he asked carefully. "I don't mean any offence, but you don't look in a fit state to be going home alone."

"None taken, I - I -" she stammered, feeling stupid. "I don't want to go home by myself," she admitted, in a half-whisper. "It hasn't been a good day."

"Let's not do this here," Ethan said. "Staff room?" She nodded by way of reply.

The staff room was empty, for which Lily had never been more grateful. She leaned against the counter as Ethan poured her a glass of water.

"So, not a good day?" he said, echoing her previous words in a gentle push to get her talking. "I mean, I gathered as much when I realised you were still here, and you should have gone home, what is it, three hours ago?"

"At least, more like five."

Ethan let out a low whistle. "Next time, tell me."

"There was nothing you could have done," Lily said. "I happened to be the closest person to Mrs Beauchamp's office, when she needed a doctor to stay longer."

"No, but I could have… I don't know, I could have looked out for you. You deserve that much."

"I'm so tired," she said in a weak voice.

Ethan took a step closer to her, until they were practically touching. "What do you need? I can take you home, or I can take you back to my place to crash for a while, if you'd rather. I'd rather not leave you here, to make your own way back."

Lily swallowed. "I need a hug." She wasn't particularly one for affection, but she just needed to know that someone was there. Ethan was always so kind to her; she loved that about him. He never joined in when other people were making unkind remarks. He was on her side. She was always just in with him, without question or consideration of circumstance. "No," she corrected herself. "I need your hug."

"Easily remedied," Ethan replied gently.

He pulled her into a caring embrace, and Lily felt instantly less alone. Resting her head on his shoulder was infinitely more rewarding than resting it against cold glass. Being this close to another person, especially someone who mattered so much to her, seemed to have magical powers, with which she could do battle against her stressed head. He made her feel better. She didn't need anything more than that.