She bit her lip gently as she stood at the nurse's station, her brow furrowing in concentration, her eyes focused and serious, but soft and kind and mesmerizing and so very blue. He watched her eyes as they scanned the charts in front of her, as they sparkled and fluttered while she worked. Her eyes, those eyes... he wished he could wake up to those eyes every morning, gaze into them every day for the rest of his life. He wanted his children to have those eyes. He wanted to memorize their shape, their color, the way they glinted when she smiled.
"Hunt. Stop staring."
He snapped out of his daze and turned around to find Callie eyeing him knowingly. When did she get there?
"What?"
"Stop staring at her," she repeated. "Seriously, it's creepy."
"I can't." He didn't even bother denying it. He figured it was obvious to anyone who had been anywhere near him lately, and he was growing tired of pretending it wasn't true. Tired of watching her from a respectable distance, having to avert his eyes whenever she sensed his gaze. Tired of suppressing his feelings.
Callie smirked in response. "You're practically undressing her with your eyes. It's not polite. Didn't anyone ever tell you that?" she teased, shaking her head. "God, I feel like you should at least give her a heads-up before you stare at her like that."
So he did. At three o'clock in the morning. His shift had just ended, and he had made his way over to Meredith's house as soon as he left the hospital, forcing himself to knock on the door before he had the chance to change his mind. Amelia opened it, clad in an oversized t-shirt that hung to her knees, her hair tousled and her face bare in a way he found oddly endearing.
"Owen? Wha-"
"I've been watching you."
He blurted it out, his eyes widening in shock and immediate regret as the words came flying out of his mouth. Nope. Bad idea.
"I mean, I... I just... let me start over."
"Okay..."
"I, uh... well, I guess I have been watching you. A lot. But not on purpose. I mean, not deliberately... not in, like, a creepy way. Most of the time I don't even realize it. And I guess I should apologize. I've recently been informed that it's rude to stare. But the thing is, I'm probably not gonna stop anytime soon. I can't help it. Staring at you, I mean. 'Cause it's the closest I can get to actually being with you. I'm sick of pretending that everything's okay between us. Pretending that I don't think about you constantly, pretending that I'm over you."
He paused and took a breath before going on.
"Because I'm not, Amelia. I'm nowhere near close to being over you. And I'm tired of trying to get over you, because I don't want to, I never want to. I can't. And I'm done hiding it... I'm done hiding how I feel about you."
He looked directly into her eyes now.
"I'm in love with you, Amelia. I'm so, completely, helplessly in love with you. And I'm tired of not saying it, I'm tired of you not knowing it. I love you, Amelia Shepherd. Everything about you. And... and I-"
He couldn't remember what he was going to say next, because she had kissed him, longingly, passionately, filled with want and desperation. Her hands gripped the sides of his face as his found their way around her waist, pulling her to him. He poured his soul into the kiss, letting her know that he had meant everything he had said.
They broke apart after what felt like an eternity, their foreheads resting together as they caught their breaths. His eyes met hers, now dark and lustful and serious, and he wasted no time lifting her up, her legs wrapping tightly around his waist, and leading them down the hall into her bedroom.
Hours later, they lay side by side, naked skin coated in sweat, hearts thudding fast as the adrenaline slowly wore off. She curled her body into his, sighing contently as she traced her fingertips across his chest and nestled her face into the warm crook of his neck.
"Owen?"
"Hm?"
"I love you, too."
