Disclaimer: I own nothing. All characters and fictional places are the property of Shondaland.
A/N: I've been a long-time reader of fic, but MerLuca are the first to inspire me to try writing it myself. This is my very first attempt. Hope you like it.
What just happened? Did that really just happen?
I fall back against the wall outside the imaging room and try to catch my breath - the breath that Andrew DeLuca had just stolen from me when he boldly confessed his feelings and declared himself an option for me to consider. There he was, so calm, so confident, coming ever closer, knocking down every brick that I was attempting to put up between us, leaving my heart racing. It is still racing, and I place my hand to my chest as if that will help slow it down.
I'm a little stunned that he had chosen this particular time and place to make his admission, but was I really surprised to hear it? It's not like I hadn't noticed his lingering gazes or felt the sparks when we held eye contact a little too long. I thought I had been doing a better job of disguising just how much these things affected me, but I was obviously mistaken because Andrew himself said he could sense that I was feeling what he was feeling. And damn it, he was right. But being attracted to someone didn't necessarily mean it was a good idea. It didn't change the fact that I was an attending and he a resident, or that he had dated my sister. And I hadn't been lying when I said I'd been having such a week. My mind is still reeling from all that I've been dealing with, and all the stress and secret keeping has had me off my game with everyone and everything.
Never mind that I had recently realized I didn't want to be alone anymore, or that CeCe had just lectured me about squeezing every ounce of light and love and joy out of life, or that I had just accepted Dr. Lincoln's invitation for drinks. Is now really a good time for me to be worrying about my love life? I have my doubts, but I did tell Andrew I would think about what he said. He was brave enough to come to me, so I owe it to him to be brave enough to consider what I want to do about it.
Right now, however, thanks to the raging storm outside, we have finally found the organs that CeCe so desperately needs, and my focus has to be on that. I will have to ignore the gathering storm that Andrew's confession is causing inside my brain. So, with a steadying breath, a quick shrug of my shoulders, and a shake of my head and hands, I push off the wall that has been holding me up and head toward the attending's lounge where I'll make sure I am up-to-date on all the necessary charts before surgery.
"Meredith"
The echo of Andrew's breathy whisper sends a shiver down my spine, which brings me back to the here and now. I peek at the clock and realize I've been sitting at the table in the lounge, staring at the same page of CeCe's chart, for far too long. What is happening right now? I am Meredith Grey; I do not daydream over a guy like a lovesick teenager. So how did that one simple word fluster me so badly? Who am I kidding, I know how; It was the way he said it – low and husky - and the intensity in his eyes when he did – so sure and unblinking. And he had stepped so close that I could feel his breath on my face as my name slipped from his lips. It would have been so easy to grab the front of his scrubs and pull him the last couple of inches toward me. My hands, as if by reflex, almost did just that, but I balled them into fists just in time and kept myself from doing something in that moment that I couldn't take back.
He had told me he couldn't stop thinking about the kiss at the wedding, but what he doesn't know is that it is never far from my mind either. The very idea of kissing him again has been plaguing my dreams. Kissing him right then, however, would have only complicated the matter further. Clearly the situation has already become a distraction, but I cannot let it continue. There is too much going on, most pressing of which is CeCe's surgery. I need to be able to focus on the task at hand. Andrew – no, make that DeLuca – and his revelation MUST be put on the back burner, so I give me head yet another shake, a little harder this time, and hope that this haze has been cleared away for good.
After a quick trip to the restroom and an invigorating set of jumping jacks, I feel focused and prepared. The elevator arrives, but before I even have time to push the button for the OR floor, he barrels around the corner, and here we are again, face to face.
No! He cannot be here. I cannot have him here, being the distraction that he is. He's right, though. He IS on CeCe's case, and he WILL be in the OR with me, so I need to get myself together. I'm a grown woman; I can handle this. I refuse to let him fluster me further. But, he better keep his promise and stay in the back of the elevator with his eyes and his words to himself.
A/N: I may add more scenes, but I'm not the fastest writer so it may depend on feedback.