1The Owner of the Reading Glasses
She's such a distraction.
I find myself noticing little, pointless details about her more often. Like how one strand of hair hangs in front of her eye as she bows her head to look at a patient chart, and how those reading glasses make her look so intelligent and, dare I say it, cute. More recently, though, I find myself daydreaming about how gorgeous and hot she looked in that elegant red dress.
What's pathetic is that she is almost one hundred percent sure that I hate her. While I don't blame her for believing it, I'm a good actor when I want to be, it's completely ridiculous that she thinks anybody can hate her, she's so sickeningly nice. A teddy bear. Plus, let's face it, opposites really do attract. Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want, because that is the first and last time you'll ever hear such a sappy cliche' come out of my mouth.
I hear a small, female voice clear her throat, and I realize that it's Cameron, and that she has caught me staring at her. Again. If I wasn't so good at guarding my emotions I'd probably blush. Instead, I blink a few times, then proceed to write down a list of our newest patients symptoms on the whiteboard. I can practically feel Chase and Foreman giving me weird looks behind my back. I bark at them to go run some tests the patient probably doesn't even need, but they scurry of like frightened puppies anyway. It is then that I realize I haven't given a task for Cameron to complete. She walks slowly towards me, and I pop a vicodin in my mouth thinking she is going to berate me for treating her like a piece of mindless eye candy. Either that, or hit me. But she doesn't do either of those completely understandable things. Instead, she comes even closer to me, too close, in fact, and whispers in my ear, "Do you like what you see?"
It's half teasing, half seductive, and totally and completely, one hundred percent sexy. She plants a quick, gentle kiss on my cheek, and it is so unexpected that I feel myself go lightheaded, and then, in the blink of an eye, she is gone. Once I convince myself that what just happened was actually real, I tough the rough spot on my cheek where her soft, sweet lips brushed just moments ago, and stare out into the eerily empty hallway. Leaning back slightly on the white board, I shake my head to clear it, and stand up more fully, putting more pressure down on my cane than usual, and it isn't because of pain. I allow myself a short, barking laugh at the absurdness of it all, and then realize she's left her cute, intelligent-looking reading glasses sitting on the conference table. Mocking me, almost.
She can be such a distraction, sometimes.
THE END