It was the nights when Angela came home late from a shift at the hospital that she was the most beautiful. Her hair was mussed, there were bags under her eyes and half the time she sounded like she was three seconds from ripping someone's head off. But Fareeha knew that Angela considered it worth it. Every life saved, every second bought in the OR, every child's smile.
It was that glimmer in Angela's eyes that made all the difference as she collapsed on the couch and laid her head in Fareeha's lap. Her hair was always so soft in Fareeha's fingers and there were times she'd lose herself in stroking Angela's hair as she dozed, caressing her face and brushing her lips with the tips.
It was the nights when that glimmer was missing that made Fareeha's heart ache the most for her. A patient Angela couldn't save. A family she'd broken the news to, dead on her feet and her own soul flayed over her failure. It was those nights, with Fareeha holding Angela, her broken sobs echoing through their little apartment that she loved Angela more fiercely than she ever thought possible.
"I don't know why it still bothers me like this," Angela whispered on one of those latter nights. Her face was buried against Fareeha's neck, her arms around her and her body curled up so small in Fareeha's embrace. "I'm fine until I'm alone, or until I get home and then ..."
"I think that says a lot about you. That you're not so desensitized that losing a patient doesn't affect you." Slowly, Fareeha started to rub Angela's back, moving her hand in circles, "It means you care, Angela."
Angela lifted her head, staring at Fareeha with raw, red-rimmed eyes and a curiously emotional expression, "It's just so hard not to fall in love with you."
"Then don't try to fight it," Fareeha whispered, her chest tight as she felt like they were both standing on a tight rope.
Cupping her face, Angela leaned in and kissed her as Fareeha continued to cradle her in her arms.