Reminder: I don't in any way, shape, or fourm own Grey's (pity isn't it) or any other song/song title used in this fic so...enjoy!
Somewhere a Clock is Ticking
I: Existentialism on Prom Night
When the sun came up,
We were sleeping in,
Sunk inside our blankets,
Sprawled across the bed,
And we were dreaming,
And so she stood, contemplation numbing her emotions, body aching and soul weary. Exhaustion ebbed in lulling triumph through her veins, Derek's blissful seduction and an inconsolable Izzie weighing heavily on her stricken heart.
Her pale eyes drifted absently, accounting her surroundings, drawing on possibilities. Thoughts forlorn and reminiscent, lingering images of the evenings prior exertions toiling and taunting, causing her body to ache and fingers to tremble. Yet, if all the evenings trying events didn't suffice as enough, Derek Shepherd was looking at her.
There are moments when,
When I know it and
The world revolves around us,
And we're keeping it,
Keep it all going,
This delicate balance,
Vulnerable all knowing,
It was their look, the gaze that sent tremors through her waif like physique and made the ebb of her breath still, body and soul aching to do nothing more then pull the weight and calm of his body against her, within her once more, ramifications be damned.
Guilt was vehemently heightening her pulse. Her chest was heaving in erratic desperation; eye's hazing as the realizations of the evening began to falter on her shoulders.
Hair askew and eyes narrowed in sated exhaustion, she stood, helpless, her once pristine dress fraught with lines from where raw desperation and passion had blinded her.
A complex idiom piqued her weary countenance, swollen lips parting ever so slightly too silently construe the inevitable. Her pale eyes entwined with Derek's, indecision wracking her body, searching his tender expression for some facet of assurance.
Before her stood a man she could not fathom hurting, who was sweet and thoughtful, and her unequivocal equal. A man who knew the hurt and tribulations she'd overcame, who'd been open and blatantly earnest with her since their initial meeting not so long ago.
Yet, as always, there was another, the one, the only one who made her soul and body ache. Derek, her teacher, her teachers teacher, who blindly knew every contour of her body and could read her every emotion with unequivocal ease. He'd instigated the hurt that Finn had managed to quell, stole her breath and drover her far from the calm of sanity. He was everything and nothing, a married man so far gone she'd last tasted the aphrodisiac of his lips only mere moments prior.
Within, the entirety of her being was a toiling mélange of conflicting emotions, heart pleading for Derek, mind-demanding Finn. Was she willing to settle for the happiness of affection when she had played witness the ecstasy of love?
Sing like you think no one's listening,
You would kill for this,
Just a little bit,
You would, kill for this
She stilled, breath bated, hesitation prevalent throughout, a shuffle of hurried footfalls wringing in her ears.
"Shep!" Came a domineering cry as Richard Webber, countenance awash with definite intent, careened around the corner. "We have a double trauma, five minutes out!" The elder man paused; eye's fluttering in a desperate attempt to find a normal exhale pattern. "You in?"
Derek's brow furrowed in hesitant intent, assuring his aid with an acute inhalation of air and hurried nod of his head. "Yeah." He breathed, countering his response with a soft, sad smile that encompassed Meredith's quavering being.
Sing me something soft,
Sad and delicate,
Or loud and out of key,
Sing me anything,
we're glad for what we've got,
Done with what we've lost
Our whole lives laid out right in front of us,
"Grey?" Webber voiced, emphasizing his prodding idiom with a strong, commanding tone.
"Sir?" She breathed, unknowing what Webber was instigating.
"Are you coming?" He prodded, brow raised expectantly.
"I thought…" Meredith slurred, floundering beneath Webber's scrutiny, gaze fixed for the entirety of the conversation on Derek.
"You thought what Grey? Now that Steven's openly confessed to cutting the LVAD your no longer on probation, now, are you willing to help or not?" His voice was low and laced with obvious aggravation, a tone Meredith knew she was not willing to exacerbate.
"Yes…" She murmured, turning on her heel to obediently follow both Webber and Shepherd from the foyer. Pale eyes narrowed with sympathetic affection as she bid Finn a parting glance, replete lips mouthing a silent 'I'm sorry.'
Sing me something soft,
Sad and delicate,
Or loud and out of key,
Sing me anything.
I appreciate you reading my fic greatly! Please comment, even if you having nothing to say, I just like hearing from people!
MwahBehindBlueEyes29