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Prosciutto couldn't say that he did not like his line of work. Well sure it was an unexpected choice, but surprisingly he came to like being in the medical field; sometimes he would even admit that he came to love it. But as much as he enjoyed the sterile scent of the operating room and the thrill of encountering different cases that need to be corrected by going through the sharp blade of a scalpel, he hoped that the workload waiting for him tonight would be relatively lighter.
It was a mistake taking Gelato up on his offer for an early morning drink. He wouldn't be able to function as efficiently as he would have liked with the mild pounding in his head.
Hopefully this night would be relatively uneventful as there were no surgeries scheduled for the night; surprising to say the least. Usually the operating room would be packed given that this particular hospital is affiliated with the busiest surgeon in the area.
It was just him, two other nurses, a nursing assistant and two interns tonight. The endorsements left by the outgoing nurses were routine except for one female patient who had undergone an emergency C-section an hour ago. Prosciutto flipped through the endorsement papers and scanned for the ward where the mother would be sent to- oh
He sighed, he hoped that it would be the maternity ward. Formaggio leaned in to read the endorsement and moved away shaking his head.
"Glad I don't have to be the one doin' the explaining. Must be tough losin' your kid when everythings been going so well."
Prosciutto made a sound of agreement and flipped the endorsement folder closed with a heavy sigh.
_____________________________
Five hours had gone by without much action for which Prosciutto was thankful for. Formaggio was still chatting with the female interns, cracking up jokes and making flirtatious comments leaving their junior nurse to finish up with the leftover paperwork after transferring their patient to the surgery ward.
Prosciutto made sure to finish his log for the report endorsement in the morning before excusing himself. Formaggio only made a noncommital wave, his eyes barely leaving the giggling females in front of him. Their junior smiled at him as he went before taking out his phone to entertain himself having done his duties for the night.
He made his way towards the fire exit and went up a few more steps. The hospital was currently under construction for additional floors so that left the top floors vacant and off-limits. He pushed open the fire exit and was met with cool air, the plastic sheets covering construction materials flapping against the soft wind. The place had a great view; even as early as 3 am the beginning of the bustling sounds that made
up the soul of the city can be heard; he did enjoy a good view when he smoked.
Upon closing the door he realized he wasn't alone. He could make out a feminine figure from a small distance, her shoulders visibly shaking. He cautiously walked towards the sobbing figure, upon realizing it was you his shoulders relaxed but his frown remained in place. Why were you crying?
Prosciutto felt awkward catching you in a vulnerable state. It probably wasn't supposed to be any of his business but he couldn't stand listening to the pitiful sounds coming from you. It was a stark contrast of the side he admired about you; a side he came to appreciate the first time he actually took notice of you.
A few weeks ago, EMTs called in to get the ER ready for trauma patients. A bus and car collision he recalled. He was early as usual and the E.R. nurses had been understaffed owing to a sudden bulk of patients so he decided to help.
You were giving out orders in your respective area, your face determined and your voice the steadiest and the most commanding he has ever heard it. He had wondered if the person managing that small portion of the ER and the woman who always timidly watched surgical demos from the OR were the same person.
At one point, one of the greenhorn nurses had felt a little woozy. When he saw a glimpse of green hair, he immediately knew it was Pesci. Why he even chose a career in nursing when he can't even stand the sight of blood baffled him.
You had carried the green haired male to a nearby wheelchair like the size difference between you and him had been nothing. You managed Pesci the best you could and then you were off to the next bed.
It wasn't like he was watching you the whole time, he had patients of his own to attend to. It's just that his eyes would catch a blur of the color of your scrubs in his peripheral vision and then his eyes would be on you.
You moved around your workspace fluidly, knowing exactly what to do and what to say when you've reached your destination. You exuded a type of confidence he didn't think you'd have been able to pull off. He was wrong.
It was distracting...and hot.
He found himself berating himself too often that night. You were proving to be a distraction and he'd be damned if he was going to let a pretty face throw him off his game this early in the night.
"Wait! Those aren't labeled," you took the blood tubes handed to him by a different nurse and motioned for an intern to have the tubes discarded properly then faced the nurse that handed the tubes with a stern look.
"I can't have you being distracted right now, Nurse. This is the second time you got your identifications wrong. I'm going to have to ask you to step out of the E.R. if you continue putting lives here at risk because of your carelessness. Come back when you're feeling more focused."
You had said it sternly but quietly enough so that no one could overhear, your tone reprimanding as you told the ER nurse off.
Prosciutto was entranced.
He had seen a lot of attractive women in his life, most not well rounded enough in character to keep him interested for long.
You on the other hand, had already had him captivated in the few minutes he allowed himself to watch this other side of you. There was something in the way your eyes furrowed and how your voice became a pitch lower when you quietly scolded one of his colleagues. He liked how you kept your cool whilst reprimanding the other nurse despite the sound of mild frustration in the way you speak.
The nurse had apologized profusely after but was urged to step out anyway by her senior.
"You."
It would have been embarrasing to have you catch him staring but fortunately, Prosciutto was anything but lax. "Please have bed 4 redrawn for crossmatching."
You reached for your scrubs pocket and pulled out two purple topped tubes and laid them on a rack. "I want these sent to the lab to be crossmatched stat. I need bed 3 and bed 6 to be in the OR as soon as they are stabilized. Dr. Cioccolata is on his way."
You handed him the lab requests you quickly scribbled on just after you were done giving out your instructions. Prosciutto, not missing a beat, took the papers dilligently with a firm "Yes doctor". You pat his arm in thanks as you walked past him, presumably to help out in the other divisions.
He stared at your retreating back for a moment before continuing to his assigned task.
You didn't know that the image of your eyes, almost burning in its intensity, will forever be burned in Prosciutto's mind and will continue to plague him for the rest of his nights.
His current view however would likely replace that image. The events of how he had you in this current position had become a blur despite only happening a few moments ago. He remembered walking up to your sobbing figure and how you visibly jumped when he made his presence known.
There was a a moment of you stumbling over your words, tears of embarrassment quickly adding to the pool that accumulated in your eyes when you couldn't form a coherent sentence. You didn't notice Prosciutto taking a step towards you but you did hear him shushing softly and the next thing you know, you're enveloped in warmth and hard muscle with the scent of disinfectant and fabric conditioner entering your semi-clogged nose. In the comfort of his embrace, you found yourself crying your heart out, the stress of the night and the strength of keeping your act together as you broke the news to that poor family finally being released with every racked sob.
Prosciutto was mercifully quiet as you had your breakdown, one of his hands rubbing your back soothingly.
He didn't keep track of how long he held you but it was long enough for your pained sobs to die down into quiet hiccups. The wetness from your tears was beginning to seep through his inner shirt but he found that it didn't bother him as much as he initially thought.
"I-I'm s-sorry I ruined your s-scrubs." you hiccuped against his chest.
"Don't worry about it."
The movement of your head prompted him to glance down just in time to catch you peek up at him shyly from his embrace. His chest constricted. Dio mio
"Feeling...better now?"
You hummed with a small nod and it took all of Prosciutto's willpower to stop himself from holding onto you for a little bit longer. He let go before he could do just that and watched you wipe your tears with the back of your hand.
Prosciutto took off his black scrubs revealing a maroon knit sweater underneath and handed the uniform to you. You had shook your head at his offer but he insisted telling you it was ruined anyway.
"I have an extra at the station. Hurry, your nose is running."
You took the discarded clothing with a soft thank you and wiped your eyes before blowing your nose with it. He motioned for you to sit on a monoblock chair that he pulled from somewhere before sitting down on a stack of cement just beside you.
He watched you silently as you tried to calm down your breathing. He rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of what to do next. He didn't have much experience in comforting women, in fact he's sure he has more experience being the cause behind their tears. Thankfully you decided to speak up, your voice still quivering from emotion.
"How's the patient?"
You played with the fabric of his scrubs as you pointedly avoided making eye contact, embarrassed at allowing yourself to let your gaurd down with a coworker you barely interacted with. You occasionally exchanged words back in college and talked about work related stuff at present but that was just about it.
"Surgery's still monitoring her for any sign of post-op bleeding but other than that, she's stable as of 2 am." You nodded as if to say that you heard him. He considers you for a moment.
"You were the one who told them?" you nodded and he frowned.
"That wasn't your call."
"I know."
"Then why did you do it?"
"Dr. Cioccolata is not the most sensitive of doctors." you smiled wryly.
"I see."
That Prosciutto could understand. The man was mad as far as he was concerned. He could easily imagine him breaking the news to the family concerned, all tact and consideration thrown to the wind. Maybe it was best that she handled the matter instead of him; it saved the hospital from a lot of trouble for sure.
He sighed and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Your face scrunched at the sight of them. You never really enjoyed the smell of cigarette smoke and the fact that you knew the lethal effects of their continued use and exposure didn't convince you at all to be starting any time soon. Although sometimes you couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to puff out the acrid smoke for fun.
"That's not allowed, you know."
Even between your sniffles and small hiccups, you managed to sound chastising. Prosciutto scoffed but he can't deny that he found your small attempt to stop him from violating hospital rules, in your current state, to be a little bit endearing.
"Are you going to tell on me?" he challenged as he raised an eyebrow. A mix of emotions played across your face and he almost laughed seeing you struggle with your decision as you contemplated if you would. You huffed and mumbled a remorseful no. Satisfied with your answer, he shook out a stick and was about to take it directly into his mouth.
"Can I try?"
Prosciutto paused examining your face for a moment. He only had one stick left, he supposed he could share. He nodded his head towards you.
"Take off your scrubs."
He smirked at the indignant look that crossed your face prompting him to explain further. "So no one could smell that you were breaking hospital rules, cara."
Your cheeks warmed, more from the embarassment than realizing how lovely his italian accent sounded. You removed your scrubs to reveal a Chansey top. You bought it on a whim when you happened to come across a small shop and found it cute. You caught Prosciutto raising an eyebrow but didn't say anything.
Once your scrubs were put away along with his sweater, he shook out a stick for you to take. You took a moment to stare at his muscular physique. You knew he had some muscle in him, you recalled Risotto mentioning him being a gym partner, but you definitely did not expect for his muscles to be defined as they are. His gray tank top was fit against his body, and when he turned to lay your discarded clothes behind him you watched the muscles on his back flex prettily.
Gods, muscled men are such a blessing.
You quickly snapped out of your trance and put the offered stick in your mouth, immediately feeling awkward having the foreign object clamped between your lips.
Prosciutto helped you with the lighting, the action almost intimate as his gaze alternated between your lips and the end of the stick which glowed a bright red. With a click, he held onto his lighter and watched you draw in smoke.
Your lungs feel heavier as you inhaled, your throat immediately feeling scratchy. It must have registered on your face because it had Prosciutto leaning a little closer in concern.
"Easy-"
You held your breath despite the slight discomfort and looked at Prosciutto as if asking what to do next even though the obvious answer was to breath out.
"Let it out, but slowly."
You did just that... and you were choking. You felt hands gently rubbing your back and a deep rumbling of a laugh beside you as you coughed up the smoke.
"You'll get used to it."
You only grimaced, your voice already raspy "How can anyone enjoy that?"
"You'll find out in a while. Here, this is how you do it." before he could even think about what he was about to do, he took the hand that held the stick, his fingers brushing against your wrist and the palm of your hand as he brought it towards his own lips. Your eyes widened as you watched him draw from the cigarette. His hand was warm against your cold one, and it was a welcome contrast against the chill air around you. His face was only inches from yours which gave you a good view of his features; thick eyebrows set in a frown as he inhaled, aristocratic nose, strong jaw and thick eyelashes that fluttered open to reveal pretty deep blue eyes.
He held your gaze as he leaned back, inhaling air through his teeth before puffing lazily to the side. You watched him all the while, awed at how beautiful his movements were. If smoking was an aesthetic then this view of him would be it, shoulders slighty hunched on one side, excess smoke lazily leaking through his parted lips as the flickering lights from the LED billboards cast shadows across his face. You never associated smoking with beauty before, now you're considering it.
He let go of your hand and raised an eyebrow to tell you to give it another try. You were hesistant to take another go after realizing he wants you to take another hit on the same stick he had his lips on a while ago. But then you reasoned that maybe that's what smokers do when they share so you pushed your concerns aside and tried again.
"There you go."
He eyed your lips as you repeated what he demonstrated this time with better progress. You smiled up at him in triumph which he replied with a smile of his own. He could get used to seeing your lips quirk that way because of him.
His lips were tingling at the thought of indirectly kissing you and he had to look away to unconsciously run his tongue over his lower lip. He briefly wondered if pressing your lips against his would be as intoxicating.
You both finished up the stick and talked for a while longer, the conversation light and easy. You had to go and make a report of your case right after so you had to excuse yourself. You later admonished him after he told you that he left his post just to have a smoke. He laughed it off, knowing you were just teasing. He can't help but feel light-hearted at the blooming friendship he managed to foster with the small amount of time he spent with you.
You walked with him towards the operating suite and was ready to turn around to leave when he leaned in towards you. The hairs near your ear tickled as he sniffed you. He leaned back with a smirk when he caught your cheeks flush a pretty shade of red.
"All clear, doc."
You pouted at the smug look on his face and you wondered briefly if this whole occurence was him trying to flirt with you.
"I wish I could say the same to you." you shot back teasingly and his mouth twitched as he stepped closer.
"I guess I'll be taking a shower then," he looked down at you his fair lashes hooding his blue eyes which glinted with something you couldn't make out "you are welcome to join me."
Woah, yes he was flirting. You had already violated multiple hospital and ethical policies all at once for one night and as flattering as it is to have a handsome italian nurse take notice of you, you are going to have to set boundaries. You never ever mix work with personal life.
You were about to scold him but he brushed his statement off with a deep laugh, telling you that he was just joking. You slapped his arm scoldingly, telling him how horrible he was.
Soon after, you were walking down the hall towards the surgery ward leaving him wondering if he had been too forward. He entered the OR nurse station after washing up to be met with a smirking Formaggio. The station was just in front of the glass doors, he wasn't surprised at all that Formaggio managed to have a front row seat to his public rejection although he really wished he hadn't seen any of it. He'll hear about it for days.
"Soooo," he drawled "that resident's pretty cute. Did'ja get rejected or-"
"Don't," Prosciutto leveled Formaggio a look before flipping open the endorsement book and scribbling more notes to be encoded for later.
Formaggio raised his hands with a look of mock surrender deciding to maybe let it go but he was itching for a chance to tease his friend.
"I mean, y'know, with a pretty face like that, I wouldn't be surprised if she's already taken." he saw Prosciutto stop writing, baited. "So uh, you think she's still single?"
Prosciutto didn't know, but he was going to find out.