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Summary
Trinity gives herself a second on the final landing, fingers gripping the railing hard enough that the metal leaves a faint red impression in her palm when she pulls away. She takes a steadying breath in through her nose, out through her mouth. Then, she scrapes together her usual mask as she makes her way over to Yolanda's front door, pushes her shoulders back, and knocks.
Yolanda opens the door with a grin that hits Trinity hard in the soft, vulnerable center of her chest. "Hi, baby," she greets, warm and bright and so fucking happy to see her that Trinity feels it like sunlight on her face after a twelve-hour shift, even though it’s well past dusk.
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A Trinity Santos chronic pain fic