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You had met Samira when you’d both started your fourth year as med students. She was shy but a strong patient advocate, always beating you to the more difficult answers. You’d studied and studied together, endless late nights of quizzing to get it perfectly before hitting a bar or two over the weekends. The two of you opened your residency letter together, with Robby buying you both a round of margaritas.
Then COVID had hit. Long weeks, barely clinging onto each other, long, quiet movie nights at the apartment, small meals, and sharing a bed on the hard nights. Adamson passed, sending Robby spiraling, the two of you facing his wrath at the forefront. The funeral was small and distanced, and the two of you watched Robby silently as he gave the eulogy, holding each other’s hands as a lifeline.
As the masks and gowns faded, the two of you slowly became even better doctors. Samaria started her racial study, and you thrived in pediatrics, attached at the hip. Knick-knacks and posters filled the apartment, and you found yourself starting to watch her differently.
⤷
It had started at the annual hospital gala. Some hotel meeting space had been rented out, with cheap wine and finger foods, and boring speeches. Samira had worn a dark green dress that hugged her body just right. You’d watched her do her makeup in the apartment, the blush covering the apple of her cheeks and the eyeliner making her eyes pop. In the dim lighting, she gleamed, her smile lighting her face up in a way you couldn’t bring yourself to understand.
Then you pretended you didn’t watch each morning as she made your two breakfasts. Her curly hair was an unruly mess, normally tucked into a slept-in messy bun, and the base of her skull. She loved making breakfast for the two of you, a ritual the two of you had developed during COVID to keep yourselves going and get each other up in the morning. She normally had on an old college shirt without pants on, the soft skin of her ass tantalizingly peeking out from beneath the fabric. You did what you could not to look too hard.
You also find yourself watching her more at work. How tender she was with her patient, no matter the severity of the pain or the age, she was just Samira. The thoughts had started to get louder, your cheeks warmer when she’d specifically ask for you. “What’s that look for?” Langdon had asked one day, a cheesy smile on his face.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about… You mumble gently, eyes snapping away from Samira.
“That’s how I looked at Abby before I asked her out.”
“Interesting, coming from a guy who’s getting divorced.” Your eyes widen at your more than harsh words, “Fuck- I’m so sorry, Frank.” He smiles and shakes his head.
“It’s for the greater good. And I wouldn’t have found Mel without that, so…” You smile.
“Please don’t tell anyone.”
“Even if I did, I don’t think Samira would even notice.” You snort, shaking your head.
“You’re not wrong.”
“Wrong about what?” Princess jabs.
“Nothing!” You and Frank smile, grabbing iPads and heading out. You find Samira typing orders, and you stand next to her, watching the way her hands drift across the keyboard.
“Whatcha doing?”
“Putting in orders? You ok?”
“Dandy!”
“Dandy?” She raises a brow, making you smile awkwardly and shift your weight between your legs.
“Uhh… uh-huh! Ok, bye!” You smile, making her give you an odd look. “Frank.” You say, finding him at the hub again, making his head snap up.
“Hm?”
“Help.” His brow raises.
“Help?”
“I like Samira.” You blurt out, making him laugh.
“Took you long enough. So what do we need help with?”
“I haven’t even considered liking someone since college.” You groan, burying your head in your hands.
“So flirting?”
“I guess?” He smiles as Dana walks over.
“What are we talking about?”
“Somebody’s got a crush on Mohan.” Frank snorts, making Dana pull you into a side hug.
“Ellis is about to win a lot of money.” She smiles, making you groan.
“There’s no way Samira wants me like that.” You frown, making Dana pull you into a full hug, rubbing your back.
“Start slow. Small gifts or notes in her locker.” You look at Frank, considering the idea.
“She does love lilies… I just have to figure out how to do it without her seeing anything in the apartment.”
“You’ll figure it out.” Both smile at you as Dana squeezes you again.
⤷
“Someone… left a flower in my locker this morning!” Samira smiles, unlocking the apartment door.
“Really?”
“I have never gotten flowers.” She smiles, petting the petals with her fingers.
“Never?”
“You know my dating life better than anyone.” She grins, grabbing a small glass and setting the flower in it.
“Who… do you think gave it to you?” You ask gently, kicking your shoes off in the foyer.
“I really don’t know. I’m… surprised it even happened.” She can’t wipe the smile off her face, and you try brush off your small surge of pride.
“I’m really happy for you, Mira. You needed that.” She nods, finally looking p at you. You take the moment to hug her softly, and she returns it happily, squeezing you for a moment before letting go.
⤷
“Hey! Guess what?” Samira bounces on the balls of her feet.
“Hm?”
“Someone left me chocolate!” She cheeses happily.
“Really?” You smile, feigning surprise.
“It was one of those really nice, fancy boxes, too.”
“That’s amazing, Mira.” Your stomach churns at the happiness across her face.
“Why do you think they’re doing all this?” She asks, looking up at you.
“Seriously, Mira?”
“What?”
“They obviously like you! Why else?” Samira gives you an odd look.
“I guess that an idea…”
“Mira! Someone likes you!” You huff.
“Why would they do that?” Your eyes snap up to hers in surprise.
“What?”
“Why would someone like me?”
“Samria. Are you being serious?” She nods gently, unwrapping a chocolate. “You’re like– the smartest person in this whole damn hospital… You care so much about every single patient… you’re fucking gorgeous. Why wouldn’t someone like you?”
“You really think so?”
“Know so.” She shoots up and hugs you tightly.
“Do you think I can get people to start a betting board?” You laugh loudly.
“Ahmad will start a betting board for anything.” You tease.
⤷
Candy. Lilies. Gift Cards. Notes. You watched Samira grow happier and happier each day, smile growing wider. She’d ramble about every one as you walked back to the shared apartment with a giddy smile. “The betting pool is over six-hundred bucks! I can’t believe someone li–” Both of your eyes widen at the fresh bundle of lilies at the door. “Huh?” She walks up, glancing at the tag, finding your name in the delivery address.
“Mira–” You breathe out, stuck in your spot.
“You… why did you order these?” She stands back up, facing you slowly.
“Samira.”
“Was… Is it you? Y… you’ve been doing all of this?” She mutters.
“I’m sorry–”
“Why are you apologizing?” Something beneath your ribs shifts at her tone. “This is like… the happiest I’ve been since college, and you’re apologizing?” You mutter gently, unable to find any words. You watch her walk over to you and pull out a crinkled pink sticky note from her coat pocket.
Dear Mira,
You deserve all of this. Thank you for being the best woman in my life.
- :)
“Did you mean this?” She asks quietly.
“Of course I meant it.” You say softly, looking at your shoes.
“Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“Because I couldn’t lose you.” You look up at her, finding only sincerity in her gaze.
“Lose me?”
“I want to be your girlfriend, Samira… please.” You mutter gently, scanning her gaze. She’s quiet for a long moment, making you want to sink further into the ground. But every negative thought was interrupted as she kissed you deeply, hands on your hips. Your fingers thread into the softness of her curls, pulling them from the bun she’s had in for work.
You break apart in a breathless giggle of excitement. “Robby is about to win so much money.” She grins. “Let’s go put those lilies in a vase.” She grabs your hand, pulling you into the apartment.
The lilies were forgotten on the counter, and you two flowed towards the bedroom in a mess of limbs and kisses.
Robby won seven hundred and twenty bucks the next morning.