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“How’s the blood pressure? Langdon asks, leaning over the patient whilst pressing his stethoscope against their breastbone. Mel watches his face anxiously before flitting her gaze down to the patient.
Mel’s already thinking two steps ahead just in case the patient isn’t stable, but that’s how they’re supposed to function. It never necessarily came hard to her, but now it feels like second nature, so the order of pushing another few milligrams of antibiotics is already on the tip of her tongue. She’s ready to speak, but luckily, Princess interjects before she gets the chance.
“130 over 70. She’s stable.” Princess replies, sighing with a relieved smile before turning back to grab some gauze.
“It worked!” Mel cries out, jumping up on the spot with a grin on her face. She looks up at Frank and sees him mirroring her excitement.
“Yes!” He cries out, reaching towards her and holding his hand up for a high five. Mel slaps her hand against Frank's before he interlocks his fingers with hers, raising them up in the air triumphantly.
They had been working on this patient for the better part of 25 minutes. It was touch and go for a while, but nothing that Frank and Mel couldn’t figure out. The celebration, although slightly unprofessional, is almost definitely needed. They don’t make a habit of it, but Mel can’t help herself now and then. Especially when she sees the relief and satisfaction on Frank’s face.
He finally drops Mel’s hand, and they pull away from each other, faces flushed from excitement and relief. They don’t notice Princess or Jesse eyeing them strangely, or the look from Robby as he walks into the bay.
“Good job, guys.” He says, eyes darting between the two of them with mild suspicion. “OR’s ready for her.” He says as Jesse and one of the porters wheel the bed out the other side of the bay.
Robby stares at the two of them again, and Mel watches him open and eventually close his mouth as if he decided not to say whatever it is that’s on his mind. He nods curtly at them before pushing the door open and leaving the two of them in the bay.
Strange, Mel thinks, but that’s not uncommon with Robby. She does feel as if he does that a lot, especially when she and Frank work on a case together. If anything, he’s to blame since he was the one who told Frank to stick with Mel after coming back from rehab. Granted, that was almost two years ago now, but when a team like theirs works, there’s nothing that can beat it.
“That was incredible. You were incredible.” Frank says, pulling his gown and gloves off before running a hand through his hair.
“Me? What about you? I mean, I would have never thought to check the liver.” Mel says, stripping herself of the sterile clothing as well.
“But you found the perforated bowel,” Frank says, sliding up closer to Mel as she pushes the bay door open.
“It was a good save.” She says, tilting her head up and nodding her head proudly. They stop off at the sink just outside, and he leans against the wall, eyes travelling down as Mel bends down to wash her hands.
“It was, wasn’t it?” Frank sighs as Mel straightens up to grab some paper towels. “We were really great in there.”
Mel swaps positions with him and tilts her head as she watches his face bloom into a satisfied kind of smile.
“It’s always like that, you know, when we work together. It’s like you’re my…” He pauses, glancing up at Mel as he lathers his hands with soap, “It’s like we’re in sync.” He finishes, looking down as he rinses.
Mel isn’t sure what to make of his expression – she can’t get a good read of it, but she nods her head in agreement anyway. “Yeah. Like you can read my mind or something.” Frank laughs softly as he grabs some paper towels to dry his hands with. “Come on, I could use a snack,” Mel says, and they both make their way to the staff lounge, shoulders brushing as they walk.
There are about a million things they need to do, charting being one of them, but managing a small break after a tough case like that is imperative. Frank’s still a bit hesitant to take that time to decompress – a habit from before – but he’s always willing to take one with Mel, so she counts it as a win-win situation.
She hands Frank a Redbull and pulls out the strange-tasting green tea that she hides in the back of the fridge in case anyone steals it – they don’t. He opens a protein bar and splits it, giving Mel the bigger half before collapsing onto the sofa next to her. They sit in silence, tipping their heads back against the wall, savouring the few minutes of peace before they’re called up again.
Frank’s good like that. Never pushing a conversation until he’s sure they both feel up to it. It’s one of those small changes she knows she had an indirect effect on. Right when he came back from rehab, Frank was itching to fill any silence he was a part of, scared that he’d gain the power of mind-reading just to find out someone was thinking about him.
Mel knew what that felt like. She also knew there wasn’t much she could do or say to stop him from worrying. But what she did know was that a couple of deep breaths worked wonders. So that’s what they started doing whenever they found a short break here and there. Like now.
Mel closes her eyes for a minute, letting her nostrils fill with a deep inhale before exhaling until she’s out of air. She hears Frank do the same, and she opens her eyes, watching the frown lines in his forehead slip away. He stretches his legs out and crosses one foot over the other.
It’s a treat, honestly, watching him decompress. Something only a few are privy to – Mel being one of those special few.
He smiles at her, and she mirrors it almost instantly. His eyes trace over her features, and Mel has the stupid idea that he’s cataloguing the smile on her face. But then, his attention gets stolen by the little soda can tab in between his fingers, and reality sets in. “How’s Becca?” He says, looking mildly distracted.
“Good. She’s got an art fair next Friday, so I’m on tomorrow instead.” Mel replies, tracing her finger around the bottle lid. “You’ll probably be sick of me - that’s five straight days we’ve been on together.” She raises her brows, smiling flatly with only a mild hint of self-deprecation.
“Could never get sick of you, Mel,” Frank says quietly, taking a sip as his eyes dart sideways to look at Mel.
He looks uncomfortable, she notices, like he’s having abdominal cramps. She’s read about symptoms of withdrawal and is careful about not mentioning it, not because she couldn’t, but because she trusts him to confide in her if anything was up. But still, she finds it a cause for concern. She makes a note to bring it up later if he still looks flushed.
“Have you got any plans this weekend?” He asks, running his hands up and down his thighs. Mel tries not to stare.
“Er, no, nothing important. Maybe a grocery shop when I get the time. The weather’s nice, so Becca and I will probably go to the park on Saturday. Do you want to join us? Becca loves Lunchbox.” Mel says, turning to face him with a soft smile.
“Remind me why I let my daughter name my dog Lunchbox?” Frank presses his fingers to his eyes.
“Because you’re a good dad. And it’s an incredible name.”
“I’ve got my kids on Saturday.”
“I know. They're the main reason I invited you." She smirks.
“You’re going to get sick of me.” Frank rolls his head back, squinting at Mel.
She shrugs, “What’s one more day?” And this makes Frank laugh. It’s a deep, throaty sort of chuckle, and Mel revels in it, watching his smile lines pop out as he lets out a puff of air out of his nose. He exhales loudly and nods his head, moving down on the sofa until his cheek is smushed against Mel’s shoulder.
“We won’t actually get to the park until around two-ish. Becca’s staying over at the facility tomorrow for a movie night, and I’m not picking her up until midday.” Mel adds, stretching her own legs out. She crosses one foot over the other, like him, and gently shifts her right foot, tapping the top of his trainers with her own.
Mel’s not too sure why, but Frank sits up after she speaks. It’s an instant thing, as if a spark is running through him. She looks up quickly, waiting for some indication that they’re needed immediately, but there’s nothing but the dull sounds of patient monitors and Whitaker groaning in that high-pitched, squeaky voice he makes when a patient spits up on him.
Once she realises there’s no action needed, she turns to look at Frank, who’s staring back with a sort of blank, dim expression.
“You’re never free Friday nights.” He says matter-of-factly.
Mel shrugs and downs the rest of her green tea drink. It’s made her mouth dry, but she looks down to inspect the label with the intention of buying it again. “Trust me, I was looking forward to going out tomorrow, but Becca is popular amongst her friends, and who am I to drag her away from that? Guess I’ll order in and catch up on some reading.”
“That’s no way to spend a Friday night,” Frank says, and Mel suppresses the urge to laugh at him.
She wouldn’t tell anyone, but the thought of getting a night alone is kind of thrilling to her – not that she doesn’t absolutely adore Becca, because she does. But it would be nice to eat kimchi in the kitchen instead of on the balcony,y as Becca insists.
“Thanks for the concern, but I think I’ll be fine.” Mel replies, smiling gently at his concern.
“No, I just mean…” He starts, and Mel turns all her attention to him, yet again struck by that same strange expression on his face. His eyes avert from hers for a moment before he takes a deep breath, shuffling forward slightly. “I, erm, well I was just thinking that, er,” He says, stuttering in a way where he looks nervous, unsure of himself. Mel braces herself when he runs his hand through his hair.
“I’ve heard about this new French restaurant, and it’s supposedly good. And you know, you could join me tomorrow night if you’d like.” He says, glancing in Mel’s direction hesitantly, as if he’s worried about her reaction. It almost makes her smile, one of those weird, frowny smiles where she’s not entirely sure of his intentions.
But instead, she grimaces. Not intentionally, but the memory of frog legs is so pungent in her senses that she can’t really help it. It’s a funny story, really, and she’s about to tell Frank all about it, except when she turns to look at him, he looks pale. Eyes bulging as if he had just seen a ghost.
“Oh, sorry, it’s not…” Mel starts, hoping she didn't offend him. She can't remember if Frank mentioned a French ancestry, but she then ducks her head forward, lowering the tone of her voice anyway. “I mean no offense to French people, but I-I've tried French food before and I’m really not a fan.” She finishes with a light scowl.
She waits for his response, and he parts his lips to make one, just as Perlah walks in to tell Mel that her skiing accident patient’s x-rays are back. She thanks Perlah and stands up to leave. Mel pops her empty bottle in the recycling bin and turns back to Frank, who’s sitting in the same position on the couch, with a sort of glazed look in his eyes.
“But let me know how it goes. If you end up liking it, I might just have to give the French another go.” She flashes him a quick smile before heading to the nurses' station to grab a charting tablet.
***
Frank’s been acting strangely.
It’s not a major cause of concern – nothing to report to Robby or anything, but still enough for Mel to notice.
They’re nearing the end of their shift, a mere eight hours since they spoke in the staff lounge, and since then, he’s been weirdly distant. Or more like, avoiding Mel.
At first, she didn’t think much of it. Sometimes they get roped in on cases because they’re free, and if Robby catches you dawdling, he’ll send you straight out to chairs. But as the afternoon seeped into the evening, Mel can't help but think something is actually wrong.
Case in point: Frank going to Dr Collins to administer any medication he was prescribing for a patient.
Since coming back from rehab, one of the few changes Frank has had to get used to is being unable to give any orders for medication. This means that he has to find another doctor to do so.
And since he’s come back, that person has always been Mel. It doesn't take long, and Mel is more than happy to do it, more so because it's become a way for them to catch each other, especially when the ER gets so overwhelming.
But Mel catches him, on two separate occasions, cornering Collins and passing her the tablet he's carrying. Mel watches their interaction like a hawk - she recognises Collins' going over the order and her asking him to confirm it before signing off and handing it back to him. It feels oddly like betrayal.
And then around hour ten, Mel's concern begins to grow. She doesn’t know if she’s done anything to offend him or if he’s just feeling off kilter like he does sometimes after the weight of the shift has gotten to him, but she’s determined to get him alone.
And then, the perfect opportunity falls into her hands. She picks a patient from chairs, one that she knows he’ll find attractive, one that will make his eyes gleam from sheer interest. She knows the look - she’s practically memorised the look. And it’s been a long time since she’s wanted to be the reason for the look, but today seems like as good a time as any to try and coax it out of him again.
Mel sits the patient down in a bay not far from where he’s leaning against the nurses' station and approaches him as normal. She tries not to recoil when he flinches in surprise and instead slaps on a bright smile in an effort to entice him. “I’ve got a patient with psychosis who tried to remove his own foreskin in an effort to get Satan out of him. Problem is, he used a fork and now it’s pretty rammed in there. What do you say?” She asks, wiggling her brows.
“Oh, I, er…Sorry, Mel, I told Mohan I’d help her with a dislocation, but that sounds cool. Maybe ask Whitaker.” He says, one foot already out of the conversation. He barely meets her eye before he’s taking off and rushing to the other side of the Pitt.
She watches him go, unsatisfied and disappointed. For the fourth time today, she racks her brain for a reason to explain his sudden change in demeanour. But she comes up empty. They were fine, they just saved a woman from bleeding out entirely, and they took five minutes in the lounge. They made plans to go to the park on Saturday. Everything was fine.
Well, it couldn’t be because he’s just run out on a case that screams his name for a lowly dislocation. It doesn’t make sense to Mel, and unfortunately, she can’t spend any more time worrying about it, not when she sees Garcia walking towards her, grimacing as she says, “Satanic foreskin?”
Mel shrugs and follows her into the bay, not without checking over her shoulder to see if Frank has changed his mind.
He hasn’t.
***
Later, after Garcia takes a look and admits the poor guy to surgery, Mel pulls her bag out of her locker and drops half the contents on the floor. The cherry on top of this ridiculous and unforgiving day, where she lost a patient 10 minutes before her shift ended, and Frank still isn’t talking to her, and she got vomited on, and Frank hasn’t as much as looked in her direction in the last two hours.
It's when she’s throwing an old Chapstick into her bag that she recognises Cassie squatting down in front of her and picking up the few old receipts and the Nature Valley bar that is probably months out of date. She hands it to Mel with a pitiful smile before turning to open her own locker.
“Rough day?” Cassie asks.
Mel isn’t even sure how to answer that. She could probably go on about the 34-year-old marathon runner she just lost, or the foreskin guy. She should probably be grateful and tell her about all the people she’s helped today instead.
But she does neither, because there’s only one problem driving her crazy. And lucky for Mel, she’s sure Cassie will have an answer – she always does when it comes to Frank.
“Cassie, can I ask you a question?”
“Go for it.” She says, throwing her backpack over one shoulder.
“Has something happened with Langdon? Only, he was fine earlier, but he’s been…I don’t know, he just hasn’t seemed like himself since lunch.”
Cassie closes her locker slowly, staring at Mel as if she’s grown two heads. “You’re kidding, right?”
And Mel isn’t sure what to make of that. So, she answers plain and simple. “No, why would I be joking? I know I should just ask him, but I haven’t been able to get a minute alone with him.”
“Mel,” Cassie says, standing in front of her and maintaining strong eye contact. “You rejected him.”
Now it’s Mel’s turn to look at Cassie as if she’s grown two heads because she has no idea what she’s talking about. “What?”
“He asked you out and you rejected him,” Cass tells her softly, in a warm, motherly tone.
“N-no?” Unable to do anything else, Mel shakes her head hesitantly, trying to figure out if there was a moment in the day when she and Frank had spoken, and her brain just decided to black out for the entire moment. She’s pretty sure that if Frank had asked her out, she would have remembered it. She would’ve memorised the entire conversation, she’s sure of it.
Cassie sighs with a little smile, ducking her head close to Mel’s. “He told me that the two of you were in the staff lounge and he asked you to dinner tomorrow night and that you said no.”
It seems silly to equate something like inadvertently rejecting Frank to her entire world crashing down and in reality it’s not, but it feels pretty damn close. She replays their conversation in her head like a glitching film reel, stuck on Frank’s face when she remembers some attempt at asking her to dinner.
Mel refuses to believe Cassie, refuses to believe that that was what Frank was trying to do because there would’ve been signs, right? There would have been some indication or a vibe or something that would have clued Mel in. But there was nothing! At least, that’s what she tells herself as she begins to shake her head in disbelief.
“That’s not…that’s not what happened. He…I…” Mel stutters, finding herself at a complete loss for words.
“I take it you didn’t catch on?” Cassie replies, wincing slightly as she scans the very helpless look on Mel’s face.
“I…I…Oh- Where is he?” Mel first fights the urge to explain herself to Cassie, knowing she probably hasn’t got a lot of time. And then she fights the urge to do something stupid like squeeze herself between the lockers and the wall to hyperventilate.
Cassie can definitely see the internal emotional turmoil that Mel is going through, but she’s kind enough not to point it out. “He’s probably walking out – he grabbed his bag just before you did.”
“Thanks, Cassie,” Mel says, flashing her quick smile that doesn't reach her eyes before running around the corner into the floor of the emergency department.
She scans the large room, eyes glazing over bloody patients and the night shift doctors who walk around with an air of finesse that Mel still finds eerie.
Finally, on the other side of the department, she sees the back of his head, still sitting neatly despite him running his hands through his hair on multiple occasions throughout the twelve-hour shift. She rushes forward, trying to catch up to him without getting caught up in the night shift barge.
“Dr Langdon.” She calls out, finding it in her to maintain a casualness in her voice so no one can misconstrue it for anything other than normal. He doesn’t turn, so she tries again.
“Dr Langdon. Langdon!” She speeds up, her voice gaining volume as she breaks into a kind of speed walk. And again, he doesn’t turn around. At this point, Mel hasn’t got much to lose, so she rushes closer, nearing the front of the nurses' station when she calls out, louder than she expected:
“Frank!”
This seems to get his attention, as well as everyone else’s. She sees him turn around, gawking slightly until his eyes settle on Mel.
She grimaces as she sees Robby and Dana’s faces – brows arched in mild confusion from Robby and a sort of knowing smirk from Dana. Mel ignores them both and rushes up to Frank, wondering if the blush on her cheeks will disappear by the time she reaches him. It doesn't.
“Can I talk to you?” She whispers, trying to ignore the weight of everyone’s gaze on the back of her head.
“Er, I’m really sorry, Mel, but I think I’m getting a migraine, and I really just need to get home and sit in the dark. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He says, shrugging as he steps back slowly.
“I just need a minute.” She says firmly, ignoring his request as she grabs his wrist and pulls him out of the hospital and into the ambulance bay. They round a corner, away from everyone’s prying eyes, and stands him against a brick wall, hidden by some bushes.
She steps back, eyeing the tense and nervous look in his eyes as he expertly avoids her gaze.
Mel sighs, wishing she had better control of the situation. She’s frustrated at Frank, which is a first. She’s still slightly confused about the whole asking her out on a date thing, if that is what he was attempting to do because in Mel’s opinion, he didn’t do a very good job at it and on top of all of that, she just wants Frank to look at her like he always does, with a softness in his gaze that’s reserved only for her.
But Mel can’t focus on any of that right now, because Frank is standing in front of her and she has acted without really thinking, which is a rarity in itself, so there’s nothing left to do than to ask him, point blank.
“We’re you trying to ask me out on a date?” She says in a steady voice, mustering up the courage so her gaze doesn’t falter.
Langdon scoffs, looking off to the side with a sour look on his face. “What is this, some kind of humiliation ritual?”
“Answer the question.” She says, hoping she did enough to hide the desperation in her voice. His eyes meet hers in an instant, and she can tell he wasn’t expecting her brash tone. He looks…well, exactly how Mel feels – disguising a look of longing with mild annoyance.
Strange, isn’t it, even when they’re technically in the middle of a disagreement, they’re still inadvertent mirrors of each other. Mel wonders if it means something - she hopes deep down that it does.
He eventually sighs, surrendering to Mel before dropping his head so his hair flops down. He begins to nod his head and finally looks up, sagging his shoulders in defeat. “Yes, I was trying to ask you out.”
“Frank-“
“But it’s fine, you don’t feel the same, I got the message loud and clear.”
“What message?” Mel cries out, eyes bulging in confusion. “That is…that is not what happened, you did not ask me out.” She says, lips curling in mild hysteria.
“Yes, I did,” Frank replies, offended. “I asked you to that French restaurant and you made some excuse and blew me off.”
“Frank!” Mel groans out as she tilts her head back in frustration. “I…” She starts, unsure of what to even say to him.
She sort of hates him right now in a way she’s not sure she’s ever hated anyone. Because she wants this, wants him so badly, but he’s gone about this in such a stupid way. She wants to shake him silly, listing all the ways in which he's wrong, but she also wants to run her hands through his hair and do entirely irresponsible things to him to the point where he forgets his own name.
Mel keeps that one locked away for another day and instead, takes a deep breath in the hopes that she doesn’t get overwhelmed trying to explain herself.
“I didn’t know that you…I didn’t know that that was where your head was at. I just thought you were inviting me out to eat like we do all the time.” She says, shrugging slightly as she drops her gaze.
“This is different. We’ve never gone out to dinner before.” He quips back, looking back at Mel as if his explanation was plenty enough to leave him unscathed. The flat look on Mel’s face is enough to tell him it isn’t.
“Frank. We got pizza last week, how is that any different?”
“I asked you out on a Friday evening!” He exclaims, and Mel’s eye twitches.
“At what point in the entire conversation did you mention the word ‘date’?” She hits back, watching his expression slip from defensive to contemplative. Her chest heaves from adrenaline as Frank looks up at the sky, furrowing his brow as if he’s trying really hard to think.
“I…W-well, I didn’t.”
“Exactly!” She throws her hands up, letting out a little disconcerted huff.
Frank frowns, tilting his head slightly to the side as his eyes scan Mel’s face. “You’re angry.” He states as if it’s news to him.
“I’m not…” Mel starts, her tone sharper than she initially intended. She relaxes her face and exhales quickly before speaking again, “I’m not angry.”
“You are. I’ve never seen you angry.” He looks at her with a thoughtful expression, and Mel feels as if she’s getting whiplash from his sudden change in tone.
“Yes, you have.” She murmurs.
“Not like this.” He says, and Mel watches his face as his lips curl into a sardonic kind of smile. She's not sure what is going on, but she doesn’t like it one bit. She feels exposed as if he’s inside her head without her really knowing. And she hates how attractive he looks, running his gaze down her body. She frowns at him, unsure of what to say to that. She pushes her glasses up with one hand and blinks, watching him as the cogs turn in his head. “Wait, so you honestly didn’t know that I was asking you out?” He says, crossing his arms with a little smile. Mel really needs to get a grip.
“W-well, how was I supposed to know? I didn’t even know you thought of me in that way.” She tells him, quickly and defensively.
Frank cocks his head forward, slowly gaping at her with bewilderment. “Mel, I think I’ve made my feelings about you very obvious.” He blurts out, nearly scoffing as he does so.
“In what way? It’s not obvious, not to me! And if you were clear about them, then,” She huffs, frustrated, looking from left to right to ensure no one is eavesdropping, “My answer might have been different!”
This seems to get Frank’s attention. His mouth opens to retort, but nothing comes out. Instead, his jaw snaps closed, and his face contorts as he processes the information. He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his neck in a way that Mel is just realising feels wildly distracting.
For a moment, they just stare at each other. She’s positive Frank has absolutely no idea what to do after all of that, and honestly, neither does Mel. She can tell he’s faltering slightly, unsure of what to do next. And maybe it’s Mel’s intuition, but she’s positive that he just wants to do the right thing. She knows that’s what he’s really worried about – he’s told her so many times in the past. Mel just didn’t know that she was going to be one of those big decisions that he wants to get right.
She takes a deep breath, softening the expression on her face. This seems to do something as the rigidness in Frank’s body slips away momentarily. She blinks slowly, tilting her head from side to side before rolling her lips into her mouth to stop herself from smiling.
It’s okay, she thinks. She can give him the push he needs.
“Ask me again.” She says as if the question itself doesn’t hold the weight of their entire relationship.
Frank’s face contorts, like he didn’t hear her properly. “What?” He replies cautiously.
Mel finds it unbelievably titillating that she’s the reason why this accomplished senior resident can’t seem to form a whole sentence. She's seen him perform an intubation on an open neck wound, using nothing but his fingers and the feeling of the patient's vocal cords, and yet, this is what's rendering him speechless?
“Ask me out again.” She repeats, lips curling at the edges. “And do it properly this time.” She puffs her chest out in a feat of courage.
Frank’s face blooms into a deep shade of blush. He bites the inside of his cheek as his face threatens to split into a smile. Mel loves it.
Eventually, he clears his throat and steps forward, ducking his head down until he catches her gaze. He smiles softly and takes a deep breath.
“Mel.” He starts, and she’s already blushing. Great. “I like you, very much. I am in constant awe of you and how incredible of a doctor you are, and how forgiving of a person you are, especially to me.”
Mel has to look away, just for a second. It feels all too overwhelming, being the sole object of his intense gaze. She swallows hard and finally finds it in her to look back at him.
“So, if you would do me the honour, I would love to take you out tomorrow night on an official date. Almost guaranteed to end in a kiss.” He says, adding on the last bit just to throw Mel off balance. It works, almost instantly.
Her head nearly jerks back at the idea, but she stabilises herself, feeling her body go all warm and prickly in a way that’s never actually happened before. It's unusual, since she’s had boyfriends before, but then again, none of them were Frank Langdon.
She’s not sure where this newfound bravery has come from, but after the whirlwind he’s put her through today, she doesn’t feel at all bad when the first word that comes out of her mouth after he asks isn’t yes.
“Where?” She asks, fighting the urge to grin when he makes a face.
“Er, Fratelli’s.”
“What time?”
“Mel.” He almost whines, knees buckling as he makes a pained expression. He looks down, shaking his head with a smile before looking back up at her. “Eight.”
“Can we do seven thirty? That way, we can just leave straight from the hospital. I just feel like we’d be wasting time and energy if we both go home and then try to make it back-“
“Yes, yes, okay, seven thirty. Perfect.”
She rolls her lips into her mouth, trying to hide the smile that’s taken over her entire face. It’s only for a moment before she feels satisfied enough to put him out of his misery. “Okay then.” She says, laughing softly. “It’s a date.”
“Really?”
“Yes, Frank.” She sighs, gently pressing her hand to her chest where she feels mild palpitations. Happy ones, like the ones that feel like butterflies because of a stupid and wistful crush. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Y-yeah, okay, sure, yeah, cool. Okay.” Frank stammers off quickly, trying to nod his head in a casual way. It’s so unbelievably not cool, and Mel wants to memorise the look on his face forever.
She begins to turn away, legs feeling like jelly as she grips onto the strap of her bag. And then, a thought pops into her head.
Now, normally, Mel wouldn’t have entertained this idea, solely because it feels like a very un-Mel-like thing to do. But she has spent the entire day fighting stupid urges, and she feels as if she owes this to herself.. So, she stops in place, unwilling to give it a second thought.
“Oh, erm,” she says, turning on the spot and resuming her place in front of him. She hesitates, only for a moment, as she tries to figure out the logistics. But then she’s pushing up on her tiptoes and pressing a kiss to his cheek.
She feels Frank go still under her lips, but it’s such a quick thing that she nearly misses it. She drops down onto her feet and watches his face go crimson. Mel steps back, murmuring a squeaky “Good night” before turning around to walk away.
She maybe gets a few feet away before she hears the smile in his voice when he calls out her name. “Mel! Melissa! He shouts in a kind of scandalised tone.
Mel braces herself as she turns around on the spot, pulling a face. “I’ll see you tomorrow!” She says, just loud enough for him to hear.
He’s got a stupid look on his face, hand cradling his cheek as his lips part in a dazed smile. “Yeah. Okay.” He replies, nodding as if he’s completely entranced. Mel turns back around before she does anything else stupid.
It’s okay, though, because she’s got a date tomorrow. With Frank. She’s got a date with Frank tomorrow. That’s almost guaranteed to end in a kiss.