Okay, so I get bored during math. I can't exactly say exponential growth and decay graphs are the most interesting things in the world. So… as a result of such boredom, you get one shot drabbles that I write in between my notes.
No idea why my last two stories have been so depressing. I mean, I'm completely a Mer/Der shipper. I'm going through a depressing phase in life… (the whole hating school, hating everything phase) so I guess my writing is just mirroring my life.
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He's pulling at the drawstring on her pants, slowly, letting his actions ask the question his body so desperately needs a yes answer to. But she has no time for carefully questioning, and her hand reaches for the dark blue string tucked professionally into the waistband of his scrubs. With just one yank, they're untied. The dark blue fabric pools around his feet and he removes the pale blue shirt that covers her black laced bra.
This is what she missed. Being asleep in the on calls rooms after a 48 hour shift, only to be awakened by his arms wrapping around her tiny body.
Only now it's different. He needs it more than she does. He's teasing her, taunting her with the possibility of what it could become.
She knows he hasn't signed the papers. She's laid out on the bottom bunk of the beds, completely exhausted. He's putting his scrubs back on and silently letting himself out the door, back into the hospital. She knows. He hasn't signed the papers and he won't sign them now. Because the obligation bound by a ring and a piece of paper is far stronger than the one bound by emotions alone.
It's not right, but that's how it works in his mind…
… Nobody said life was fair.