The cold rain clung to her face like sharp specks of razorblade; her head felt like a thousand knives had gone straight through it. She didn't know where she was or what she was doing. Her feet led her to a familiar location with an unfamiliar feeling. The once-grey carpet was now a faded black, probably from all the footsteps of people who wandered this same route over and over again, for years on end. The world never stops turning, even if you feel like you're frozen in time. The dull yellow walls were no longer inviting; the light bulb forced a speck of light out, but it too was soon to fade away. Her hand raised to ring the bell, but she hesitated. What was she doing there? Why was she there? How did she get there? Slowly, carefully, she resisted. Her hand fell to her hair, pushed her bangs back, and once again, as if by magic, raised itself to the bell. She delicately pressed it, afraid that it would sting, but even more afraid that he would hear it and come out. She waited. 1 second. 2 seconds. He's not home. Pulling on her bag she quickly began to turn. She almost made it out alive. The sound of locks turning. The squeak of the door. The brush of warm air that slapped her straight in the face. His voice serenely called out her name. A questioned glance. A forced smile. Everything felt so awkward yet so completely comfortable. Yet she couldn't exact explain what she was doing at his apartment at one in the morning...
He opened the door and she slipped in. The day overwhelmed her. Was this what it felt like to come home to someone waiting for you? The lights dimmed, TV muted on a random channel, a look of longing from across the room? She was on the edge of a cliff: a dark, steep, never-ending, twirling, deadly cliff. And she had just taken the jump. The girl's face popped into her mind. She should be with her family; she wasn't supposed to die. It was all his fault. All of it. She didn't want to be in the middle of it. She didn't become a doctor to let male ego's destroy the one good, right thing she did in her life.
Tears bluntly filled her eyes and she let them. She didn't turn away from him this time; he would watch her cry. She felt them slowly falling down her cheeks, the warm liquid mixing with freezing flesh. She looked up at him. He looked so old and aged, the dim lights accentuating the dark circles and his mysterious eyes. Slowly, too slowly, he came toward her. His hand grazed her cheek and suddenly the pain began to subside, even for a moment. His lips touched hers. She felt her body give way to the pressured, the tension, the hate, the anger, the frustration... It melted away into him. He took it away from her. She slowly melted into him, into his kiss...
He had always been there, her pillar when the world seemed too heavy. She had never acknowledged it, never realized it. He still loved her. He didn't need to speak, all was evident in his lips. The sincerity, the gentleness... The way he had kissed her the first night they made love. The way he always kissed her, giving her a part of his soul that he would never get back.
As she peeled off the first layer of clothing all she could comprehend was a voice in the back of her mind whispering a secret, coded message. Words she never used and never wanted to use. But he wasn't like Carter. He was different. He was stable, true, real... He had waited. Her moan gently mixed with a whisper..."I love you."