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A whole year together.
Jack Abbot had everything planned out for the anniversary: aligned breaks, dinner reservations, places she had yet to visit.
All of those plans went downhill as soon as Samira Mohan woke up. She completely disregarded her schedule and took the bus to the PTMC. Didn’t drink the tea he left for her, didn’t say goodbye to him, didn’t even give a good morning to the cat.
This brought him to two obvious conclusions. One: Samira didn’t get a good night's sleep. She’s in a bad mood, and may luck be on the side of whoever has to work with her today. Two: he must’ve done something. Anything else, she would’ve been complaining to him instead of brushing him off completely.
Jack pondered the whole morning. About yesterday. About the day before. And the day before that one. He prepares a snack for her at least once a day. He showers her with attention every chance he gets. Sex has never been an issue. What could be bothering her? A nightmare? He’s comforted her after one, too; she wouldn’t go to work if it were the case. He has nothing. Not a single possibility of cause crosses his mind.
As he doubts Samira will leave work anytime before the shift ends, he decides to meet her there. Of course, he wouldn’t dare interrupt her work routine without proper arrangements; they keep him busy for the rest of the morning. Flowers: stargazer lilies she adores so much, pink carnations (striped would match better, but he dislikes the meaning), baby’s breath for volume. Lunch: pastrami for everyone because he finds today a good day, and overly-sweet chocolate fudge cake for Samira as dessert. Other details in case she gets fed up before expected: various tickets for the afternoon, streaming services if she wants to go back to his place, toolbox to go to hers. Lastly, his go-bag in case she wants to stay in the emergency.
Jack arrives unannounced at the department. Fills himself in with some light chatter, searches around for Samira as soon as he finds a spot to place down the sandwich bags — the package has simple instructions: leave enough for Mohan. The emergency isn’t buzzing with activity; locating her should’ve been easy. Though clearly she saw him coming in, because she’s nowhere to be found. She doesn’t want to be found.
Hence, he gives up. Settles nearby Dana, helps out where he can. For hours, Samira appears and disappears into patient rooms. No doubt about it, she’s seen him; must still be upset, but he can’t work things out if he doesn’t know what he did. Nor can he hand her the bouquet and cake.
So Jack stands up. Crosses gurneys and nurses to loom outside the room she just entered. Ignores how he’s been eyed because of the flowers. He’s here exclusively for Samira. She likes flowers, he’s getting her flowers. She likes chocolate cake, he’s getting her chocolate cake. She (usually) likes him, he’s all hers.
Five, maybe ten minutes go by until she’s stepping out. Jack’s distracted by her beauty. Her raven curls, held tightly by her claw clip; should be a crime to restrict the locks that when freed drive him insane. Her body, behind the scrubs; the temple he so eagerly worships. Her face, her features; lips he relishes swelling with his nips and kisses, nose that gets him shivering when she nuzzles his skin, darkened eye bags he only likes when he’s the cause of, eyes the night he wants to disappear into.
Her beauty is unquestionably intrusive, but not enough for him to simply let her storm past.
“Dr. Mohan.”
Samira stops as if struck. “Not now. I’m working.”
“I know. You told me you wouldn’t.” Jack takes one, two steps closer.
“I changed my mind.”
“You did. Why’s that?”
She scoffs, doesn’t turn to look at him. “Does it matter?”
“Yes, Samira, it does. I get that you’re upset with me, but I need to know what I did so I can try to fix it.”
“You- you didn’t do anything.”
“Then why are you avoiding me?”
“I’m not. It’s nothing.”
He gets no chance to form a proper reply; she’s already off again. Sighing, Jack follows at a slower pace.
“At least take the flowers.”
She stops again. Takes a loud, deep breath. Closes the distance between them, plucks the bouquet from his hand, and strides into another patient room. Jack glances down at the container still in his hold. Nods to himself.
“I’ll be in the stairway if it turns out to be something.”
Jack turns away and walks off. Past the glass door, he sits on one of the higher steps, staring at the frame. Just… Thinks. Digs his nails into the styrofoam, making little drawings on its surface. If there’s something he can’t handle well, it’s Samira being distressed due to something he did. Or what he didn’t, since according to her, he didn’t do anything. Fuck.
Whatever he was onto completely left his head at the sound of the door opening. A glimpse tells him it’s not Samira, so he doesn’t pay attention, instead letting his thoughts flood back.
“Dr. Abbot?”
“Dr. Santos.”
“Why’s Samira…?” She gestures vaguely.
“I wish I knew.”
“Ah.” Santos stares for a few moments, then shrugs. “Alright.” The door closes behind her fading figure.
Gossip. The department tends to theorize the worst. Probably betting on the reason they broke up. Or, better, what did Jack do that got them to break up, since he’s the one with flowers looking forward to talking. They definitely didn’t. There was no argument. In fact, there was nothing. Nothing he did or didn’t do could have caused his love to be so bothered without him knowing. He is a reasonable man. He can acknowledge his fuck-ups when they happen. But not when they–
The door opens again. From the speed at which it’s pushed open and the sound of footsteps, now it’s Samira. His senses don’t betray them; are instead confirmed by his eyes. The bouquet is still in her hands.
“Honey.”
She doesn’t say anything. Sits down beside him. Places the flowers against the handrail, avoiding eye contact. He offers her the box. Samira takes it, but leaves it closed on her lap. Her throat visibly bobs before she starts talking.
“...I was serious. You did nothing wrong.”
“Then what did I do?” Jack leans forward, tries to meet her eyes. She doesn’t let him.
“Nothing. It’s- it’s not why I’m avoiding you.”
“So you are.”
“I am. Just… Can’t look at you right now.”
“That’s not very reassuring.”
Samira takes a deep breath. “It’s stupid. I- Looking at you reminds me of how stupid it is, and then I feel bad for not being able to brush it off.”
“It’s not stupid if it’s bothering you, honey.”
“You say that because you don’t know what it is.”
“Then tell me.”
Samira crosses her arms to clutch her elbows. Slides her feet together. “...I don’t want to. It’s embarrassing.”
“Should I guess?”
“A dream.”
“A wet dream?”
“I- what? No, not a wet dream.” She sighs. “More like a nightmare. Not- not a wet nightmare, just a nightmare.”
A nightmare. He had discarded the possibility after she didn’t address it with him. However, one that involved him in some way would justify the situation. Why she’s been dodging him during the day, why she’s yet to look at him. All it lacks is an explanation for the embarrassment.
“I’m listening.”
“I- I dreamt you were with someone else. You cheated on me with someone else. And I got upset.”
Huh.
That’s… Something. A nightmare, sure. Of course. He couldn’t be aware of what he was doing wrong if it happened in her dreams. Jack covers his eyes with a hand and chuckles, sliding his palm down his face. What else could he do if not laugh? “Oh, honey…”
“I told you it was stupid. I’m not even uneasy because of you, but because I keep… Thinking about it when I think of you, and I don’t like it. I know you wouldn’t do that, so I shouldn’t...”
“Sweetheart,” he takes one of her hands and brings it to his lips, kissing her knuckles, “you don’t choose what you dream about.”
“I know I don’t. There’s just… A lot of other things I could’ve dreamed of.”
He slips down a step, then another. Slides to the side until he sits in front of her. His hold on her hand remains unwavering as he brings it to his hair, lowering his head. Clears his throat and impels a deeper voice. “I profusely apologize for cheating on you in a nightmare. I cannot stop the scoundrel I am in your subconscious mind, but I can guarantee you I would sooner end my own life than betray the trust you have granted me.”
Samira’s frowning, agape. “Why- why are you talking like that? When did I start dating a medieval knight?”
“I’m hoping it’s what it takes to get your mind off the nightmare. If it works, thy knight is more than prepared to submit his body and soul to you, my princess.”
It’s a simple plan — distracting her. Getting her mind off what’s bothering her with attention and some light humor. It worked when she did it to him; hopefully it works when he does it to her.
An incredulous laugh escapes past her lips. “You’re so unserious.”
“This whole situation is unserious, honey.” Jack leans into her touch. Her hand runs down to his jaw, doesn’t pull away at the prickle of his stubble. “Did you eat?”
“Not really.” She opens the container in her lap with her free hand. Looks at him with a smile as soon as she picks up the plastic fork inside. “Cake?”
“I aim to please.”
Samira shoves a forkful past her lips. Her hand leaves his jaw to press on the floor and push herself to the side. Then her hand pats the spot beside her. Of course, Jack complies. Crawls up the steps, sits pressed against her. Rests his head against her shoulder, admiring the occupied hand. Soft skin, trimmed nails, pronounced knuckles, firm grip… His eyes follow it as the fork approaches his own face. Mouth parts to let her feed him.
The slice is half-finished when she stops eating and closes the container again. She rubs her thumbs together over it, stares at her feet. “I don’t think you would.”
“Mhm?” He presses a kiss to her shoulder.
“Like. Cheat on me.”
Hm. This again. “I wouldn’t.”
“...But you did.”
“In your nightmare, I guess I did. How can I earn your trust back?”
“I don’t know.”
“When I had a nightmare, you took off your clothes.”
“...Lying on your bare chest would be very comforting.”
“I can’t strip here. But if it’s just the shirt, we can do that in the car. Get some extra sleep. You’re not supposed to be here anyway.” Jack stands up. Bends one of his elbows, resting his forearm behind his back; offers her his other hand. “Your majesty.”
“A nap and we’ll probably be late for the reservation you made for dinner.”
“Do you want to go?”
Samira looks at him for a few moments before taking his hand and standing up, the container pressed against her. “...No.”
“Good. I thought you wouldn’t, so I cancelled.” No, he didn’t. Jack doesn’t want her to feel pressured because of it, he'll cancel when he gets the chance. "We can figure out what to have for dinner later.”
“Okay. Oh, and majesty is for a queen. For a princess, it’s royal highness.”
Can she please, please step on him and humiliate him with her knowledge more often? A reminder that he’s dating the most intelligent woman in the world is always a delightful one. “Is there a more suitable title for ruler of my heart?”
“The ruler of my heart is already known as Jack. The ruler of yours, I’m not so sure.”
“Not so sure?”
“Who knows the name of the woman you–”
Bickering and bantering. This works to alliviate her head. Jack groans and looks up, slipping his other hand into his pocket, tightening his hand around hers. “My fucking god. Samira Mohan, you are the owner and sovereign of my heart, the only one I want.”
“Mh. You’re on thin fucking ice.”
“Oh, don’t do that. I bring the dessert you like, the flowers you like, and I’m still on thin ice?”
Samira looks down at the forgotten bouquet. Picks it up. “Yeah.”
“I didn’t even do anything.”
“I think you should still sleep on the couch.”
“Sleeping on the couch in my own house?” Forcing his lips into a frown and his eyebrows to furrow, he huffs.
“You need to think about your actions.”
“Right. Actions I didn’t actually commit.” Jack intertwines their fingers and tugs her closer, wrapping his other arm around her. “I’ll sleep on the couch if you’re there with me.”
“You drive a hard bargain. I’ll consider it if Mittens…”
Too close, he can’t hold back. Seals her lips with his, savours her mouth. Cake tastes even better mixed with whatever chapstick she's using. It’s up to her to pull away, and he'd say she is far from interested in doing so. Slips her tongue into his mouth, nicely devours him whole. She only does pull away when someone wolf whistles outside the door. He glances while Samira buries her flushed face against his neck.
Lots of people crowd the door, most with their phones out. Oh, who cares? They’re not working. Jack nuzzles his nose into her hair. “Hope you still love me. Even after I cheated on you in your dream.”
“You’re lucky I do.”
“Think you can stand me for another year?” He mumbles, peppering kisses everywhere he can reach.
She raises her eyes only enough to peek at him. Those eyes, those yes, fuck, those perfect fucking eyes... “I’d love to.”