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Just for you, Just for YOU

Summary:

Frank Langdon is fully convinced Trinity Santos is in love with Melissa King. Frankly, ha, who shouldn’t be ? He is the one however at the right place, right time, or well creating his place and shining time.

Notes:

When I started writing this, I had 5000 words to say, I don't have 500 in the moment, I hope it is readable. I do like to write conversations between people a certain way, in italics, with first line belonging to Person A and second line belonging to person B. If there are names before dialogues, then it is texting. Italics are my conversation skills. I try to mention in my dialogues, who is being referenced and spoken to, but fun was only intention of this fic. Is this the most convenient way ? Ha, I live to make my own life difficult. Thank you, enjoy them now !

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

“No.”

“You cannot just tell a brain to not wake up. In fact, once a brain has been up for 6 minutes, it has effectively broken out of sleep stupor, it is back to daytime and sunlight here.”

“I could however add an extra bicep set to my routine and just pin you in the place with it.”

“Up, Up, Up, Up, UP.”

“Moved in with an alarm clock, fine go take a shower without a boyfriend because you think reaching on time is a moral ethic and saving the world is a duty which should be done with all earnestness. Be a human with character and values.”

“You are not my boyfriend. You are my wife. Please, I need breakfast and my tea before leaving. Up, up, up, up. Please, Please, Please, Please”

“ Fine. Make a healthy human out of me too. Baby, do you even have any idea how the world economy runs because people are too lazy to make an actual breakfast and not grab a greasy pizza out of a cheap cart and call it just the main character trait? Do you even think about all the government funds that will diminish? The collapse in infrastructure? Do you realise the responsibility entrusted upon you, sweetheart? There is no one else. There will be no one else. You hold the power. You hold humanity in your blink. For once, live for the greater good.”

“I take my words back. You are my American housewife. Sleep with me and save the world, hey do you want to send the idea to a sitcom creator?”

“Would you though?”

“Sleep with you?”

“Yes, obviously. Ta-da. Correct-est answer of your life. You win every penny in my bank account. You are the smartest one in the room. You are the prodigy they are going to write books about.”

“No. But I can help with something that has been up for a long time now.”

“Oh, fuck yes. Gonna fucking bake you all the breakfasts and pies of the world.”

 

The funny part, because he always finds one, is he was going to indeed bake a pie today. In the apron and the frills, an incredible pull by his surgeon friend as his housewarming gift. Tables have turned though, because all the fucking in the apron stories go straight to chat with regulations and always pull deep satisfying sounds of agony, from the above mentioned surgeon. 6 fateful months ago, Frank earned his 6 months sober chip and first ever back pat from a mentor, he felt he long lost to the world. 6 months ago, he also got a nick on his finger, as Dana pulled him aside, twisted his ring finger and threw the metal with words of enough, I cannot wait any longer. The metal had become toxic long ago though, so she did a favour to two people. 180 days don’t feel like a huge number compared to the years of addiction he has been battling, 180 days of effort has taken more effort from him than 18 days of addiction. Growth is not a straight line but a wave and he roller coaster his way throughout. His mind is better, his soul is better, his conscience is better, and his body is in fucking heaven. 6 months ago, Frank stands under the rain, finding his way through the maze of blond turns, he feels a salvation on his mouth. Mel King is kissing him, like she wants him, like she is there on the same page on the longest novel of romance their story will have and the world reduces to one singular event. One sensation. One person. Highest crest of his growth wave. The world doesn’t become easier to deal with afterwards, it does become a two person effort.

 

2 months ago, Frank learnt programming, understood the brutality of indentation and dull personality of people living on youtube tutorials and created a dashboard. Simple sales project. Opinions backed by facts. Hypothesis proved true by data, Error accounted. Sample size and observation accounted for. Frank should move in with Mel. He could save enough on food and gas alone, that some kid in his country would be able to taste real food, a boxed mac and cheese. He would be so upbeat, he would bake cookies for his NA meetings, leading to better social adaptability, he would have access to Mel 24/7, significantly reducing his phone bill and create a vacation fund for them, and it would foremost, make him the happiest person on this earth. He hopes Mel understands how important it is for science. She crashes into him so card, he wonders if his entire world reshifted. It feels it did.

 

“I would like to move in just for you. Just for you.” 

 

He hopes he never starts a war. He hopes if he does end up in a battlefield, it is never opposite to her. Soldier down by words, what a poetry it would make. For 2 months, Frank wakes up next to the scent of vanilla, brings colour to the closet through his black shirts, puts two phones on charging before bed, buys two keychains, buys two ceramic plates for design,two printouts of polaroids, two of everything for two of them. This sounds like poetry from his heart. He consumes his doses of Mel, and chants more, more, more, more, peacefully aided by the knowledge there will be more. There is no timer to overrun, there is no limit to his love. It will be what he will know for his entire lifetime.

So screw the emotionally constipated men and let the feminists take over the chant, he is going all out for his 6 month kiss anniversary. The world deserves to celebrate Mel King and Frank Langdon is going to take the entire advantage of being her +1. Romantic movie date, late night dinner, walk in the park, dessert and B99 run at home, Mel King wouldn’t know what the wife can pull out of her hat. 

“Yes, I am celebrating the day I kissed her, yoyo. Grow up, non-frat boys don't burst into ashes by showing emotions.”

“Well you gotta compensate for the lack of your dick. For next birthday I will get you the ‘trophy wife’, well, trophy.”

“Oh my god, who was that? Oh just you running away from emotional intelligence. Hey, maybe I could teach you that, I have definitely taught you how to do a surgery.”

“I would have you murdered in a blink. Just take your wife and make out in the theatre like a teenager. I will have her out by 7. As for gifts, your credit card will do just fine.”

“Thank you, I knew you had a 1% living heart left in you.”

 

Mel  : We are going for dinner?

Frank : What the hell? She could have waited 15 seconds before she told you anything, why is universe giving me signs to just kill myself.

Frank : After the dinner of course, so yeah we are going out tonight! 

Mel : She said and I quote, “have better things to do” and “don’t make me an aunt yet, I still have two more years of club vip membership”. She also said I should wear the red dress, and let the world burn to crash. What was that?

Frank : Omg, bestie, she loves me so much. Please, Please, Please, take my soul and bring out the red dress.

Mel : Fine, lover boy. Do you want me to chart that I am having great sex tonight too?

Frank : What if I say that ever since I have come out of addiction, I have always felt I am undeserving of people’s love and I always keep second guessing whether I really deserve you or not, and this simple action of putting down my dick as magic in a patient chart would help me bring back the smile and old frank energy back into this unkind universe 

Mel : I would say, let’s skip dinner for therapy 

Frank : And I would shoot myself and you explain to authorities why as the most beautiful blond woman who looks like angel under the light of this kitchen and speak the kindest words ever known to humanity is responsible for killing a heart of a doctor who simply wanted to make the world known you are forever his

Mel : I love you, please stay alive to tell I look beautiful tonight

Frank : Always, beautiful

Mel : Fine, see you on the other end, as much as I hate to end the foreplay

Frank : This was foreplay? Let the poor magic dick rest a bit baby, it is already doing a hard enough of being hard for you forever. But okay yeah, save lives.

Mel : Deal, love you.

Frank : SAY IT

Mel : I love you the most?

Frank : pretending that question mark is a typo but Melissa King don’t fettle my nerves now, I have hours and you know I am the mean sugar baby girlfriend who is always ready to read between the lines, SAY IT, SAY IT, SAY IT NOW

Mel : Fine, it’s a date

Frank : Oh, now I am blushing. Of course babygirl, it’s date!

 

Beep. Beep. Louder Beep. Shit the timer, the pie. Better now disappoint the breadwinner of the day. Oh, Frank was living the dream life.

 

Mel : I did something bad

Frank : Step away from Robby, wash your hands. Don’t go near the body. I will be there in five, I’ll move it. Don’t say a word to anything.

Mel : I will not kill the attending! Not in the hospital anyway-

Frank : Marry me for plausible deniability 

Mel : Okay, Dr. Jekyll. But I did something worse, please don’t hate me

Frank : Even my autocorrect changes ‘I hate you’ to ‘I love you’ for you. Hate her, she says as if I am not outside digging a hole to hide the attending she killed because he refused to acknowledge he is a human and touch base with emotions

Mel : I didn’t kill anybody. Remember all the beautiful great times, we made love and the think about the more beautiful ethereal times we fucked 

Frank : in a daze right now 

Mel : I have to stay here till 8! I promise it is a friend's emergency, there are clouds of sadness and woe drowning this place. I had no other option.

Frank : oh

Mel : Babe, please, please, please, I swear, I told them we had plans and then they went into the ‘of course you do, I am so sorry for unloading all this into you’ phase, and I just couldn’t leave them behind. Like it was a puppy, with an already broken bleeding leg. How do I tell them they won’t have an eye in the next five minutes too?

Frank : no, it’s okay, I understand 

Mel : Babe , communication? How about a deal? We have our movie night date? I would not wear the red dress but I could wear the yellow lingerie? I would also take tomorrow off to match yours, make someone else voluntarily cover my shift because I am dying to have sex with my beloved handsome boyfriend

Frank : I prepared pie for us

Mel : I wouldn’t make us do any house chore and it would just be one full day of food, bed, sex?

Frank : sold to Dr. Langdon!

 

It is probably a little cautionary, how much caution is thrown to the wind, when Frank thinks about Mel. He loves reasoning, finding more about why it works so perfectly, knowing their choices bringing them closer and to a better future than mere streak of fortune, he caught. Destiny is definitely the big game player here, but Mel and Frank might always have been written to be closer to each other, but they have chosen to be in love, to grow that love. How could he ever deny someone else the taste of her kindness, when it was the only life in him at one point? What would have been the emergency department without a doe eyed spectacles wearing transfer holding the thread with a sinking addict doctor? Luckily, he never has to find out. The routine of camping against the monstrosity of the couch, surrounded by pillows, as Mel lays in his arms, a bowl of popcorn precariously placed, the campsite fenced by takeout containers, because he has finally rubbed off on her, literally and figuratively ( I was always going to clean baby! But I was just waiting for everything to reach a state that needed to be cleaned!), is as good if not better, as going out and observing the brown of her eyes under the candles. The goal has always been to spend time with her. In whatever capacity she chooses to have him.

 

“Oh hey baby! Ugh, I know I volunteered but the world could stop dying a little bit so I can enjoy this. Missed you so much. Oh and Mr.Anderson was back-”

“After sweetheart. I am all ears. Go freshen up now though, I have five different kinds of popcorn buckets where kernels sacrificed themselves to be in your mouth. Get, set, go!”

 

 Frank, stupidly, believes in past lives. Scientifically, he knows he is going to be kicked out of every conference in the area but emotionally, it is a beautiful ray of hope to hold. What else could explain the randomness of selection, the place of birth, the set of parents, the number of siblings, the friends you make along the way, the friends you lose along the way, how could all critical decisions of life be simply meaningless? The what-ifs sometimes surprises so much, his breath becomes a sludge in his lungs, what if he had never touched drugs, what if he had bounced back at once, what if he had never chosen the pitt, what if he had not found Robby in the pitt, so many lives he could have lived, so many lives himself live, simply by believing. Circumstances shaped character but what was the original form to begin with? The world falls like a web of possibilities. Which is why he believes he executed Trinity Santos in his previous life, like an obnoxious chauvinist king who couldn’t accept progress of woman and her poor children must have died of cold on the sheets, alone in the bullying world, putting an unbreakable curse on him, straight from the honest heart. Why else would she stand at the door of his apartment, dropping her bag and shoes on the floor? Committing action to make him believe he has lost his mind and think of her staying voluntarily with him?

 

“Hello Dr.Langdon!”

“I am hallucinating. A drug particle just refused to get out of my blood stream.”

“Haha, you should try this poetic device called sarcasm, it suits your personality well.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Well, Melly invited me to her home, by the way, to watch a movie with her.”

“You are not five, she is not Melly, she is Mel.”

“She is actually my Melly jelly, you know as friends? I don’t know if they taught the concept back in the little special cool for emotionally dead people, but it is two people, choosing to spend time with each other, and would you look at that, enjoying it too. She likes me, she likes watching movies with me. Hence she invited me to her home. Her being the highlighted word here.”

5 days into rehab, Frank knew how stupid it was to blame Trinity for any of it. Really, really stupid. How could a thief blame the police for patrolling? The first apology had been addressed right to her, and it was written in ink of honesty. The real culprit sat comfortable in his bathroom, pretending he could stop, anytime he wanted, any moment he decided. Accountability is maturity. The years of sobriety won’t take away the fact he was an addict, but they are a testament he had gotten better, day one is one day. It was still a dark place, why he had fallen to the ocean bed, but past actions were for retrospection not changing consequences. He still doesn’t know where Trinity being a cockblocker fits. 

 

“Oh Trin, why are you still standing, make yourself at home. You can use the bathroom on the left, freshen up and we will get started at 15. I am dying for food. Let me know if you need anything, seriously, do yell.”

“Thanks Melly, cannot wait to be a blob on you.”

 

“Ahem, ahem.”

“Hi baby.”

“Oh hey, she does remember me. Oh well, at least I am resourceful to make dinner come together. I must have forgotten the cloak, this is why I am still invisible.”

“Nerd. Also what? What did I do?”

“Why is Santos in the apartment? Is she out of groceries or something? Give her a carrot and get her out of here.”

“Hey, she was having a bad day. I told you about it, she looked so defeated today, I got zero jokes on today. I got a compliment for being kind. This is equivalent to dying of cancer for her. She needs us.”

“But it’s our movie night. OUR represents two people in my dictionary. Three means I have to write a new one, get it approved and get it published, and throw every copy of the previous one. Can’t you be kinder to less depressed people?”

“I am so sorry, and you guys are finally friends, we can do things together. You know she doesn’t share her feelings easily. Just till dinner, I promise she will leave after that, I couldn’t have just abandoned her, not knowing she needed me. Please, Please, Please. I will make it up to you.”

“She is a person I tolerate because murder is a crime. Any part of that sentence changes and her existence changes. It was supposed to be us enjoying our date night, making babies not babysitting. Ugh, that was a bad sentence structure.”

“Yeah, workshop through it. Plus we have forever right? Could we just please include her once? For me?”

 

 For Mel, he could place his heart outside his body just to show the chokehold she had on him. But yeah, he would sit, and watch rom-coms with the woman he blamed for destroying his life. Might have issued out the apology too soon.

Mel loved the pasta he cooked. Sitting on the floor, one big plate in between, feeding each other, who decided the rules of dishes? The dishwasher actually. Mel looked at him with such grace and tenderness, all the hard work reaching its due course. She has a little leftover on her corner lip. Frank couldn’t help it. He has helped himself enough in the past. Cradling his face, he could actually fit the world in his palm. His world anyway. And then kiss her and feel the same spark he had months ago, the same clarity. Anything could go wrong at any given point of time, this would always be right. He cannot help himself, his hands always find the edge of her shirt. He loves to feel the shiver running through her skin. He did this, all alone, it is just his achievement. Then up, up, up they go, until they find just the edge of her breast. The moment of excitement before pleasure follows through. Knowing she would be taken care of, in every way possible. And then his thumbs find the aching nipples. So smooth, so eager for attention. The slow circle turns to twisting and the gasps that leave Mel’s mouth should be written as part of his obituary. One more time, please. It’s always the same dance between them.

“It is movie night! We have to watch the movie! Oh! More, more, please,-”

“You watch the movie, I am watching my favourite thing, baby.”

“Pleaseee, I want to watch this one. Common on eyes on screen, oh fuck, don’t stop!”

 He knew the bite on collarbone would get that reaction. Always under the edge, if someone looked with dedication, they would always find him on her. 

“You know the rules, number-”

“We are watching the movie.”

“Number, number, number sweetheart.”

“500”

“Sure”

“I mean it.”

“I mean it too, babygirl.”

 They never make it to the mark. 15 minutes later, Mel pauses the movie, releases the cutest huff and straddles his lap. Then logic leaves the room. It’s just the urge to combine, to put himself so deep within, he finds a permanent spot. 

They do get to watch that movie, they are people with culture. Just when Mel mentions another number and the orgasms chart is well updated. He lies with his head on her lap, hands tugging at the hair, in a bliss, no poetry could define.

All this happens, in another universe. Today Santos occupies the next spot to Mel. Today his hand cannot curl onto her, without bringing in Santos to the party. Today they watch the movie like normal human beings and make jokes along the way. Her hand rests on his thigh, but Santos' head lies in her lap. The hair she fiddles with are long deep night streaks and Frank wonders if he killed Santos in his past two lives to be subjected to this. 


 

The efficiency of ED comes from assigned roles and never ending list of roles. Every puzzle fits, sometimes forcefully, all edges clashing into each other. They don’t make a beautiful picture, they make a cohesive flowchart. Any piece lost, the internal chaos will be the largest killer of humans. Dana is the biggest piece, the sun, around which people arrange herself, the beaming ray of hope, as thousands have fallen in this Pitt and thousand dreams too. The security keeps the fence white and pretty, always questioning the false sense of safety can lure enough doctors in. The administration is for bonding, hate bonding. Nobody makes two doctor immediate friends than two people filing the same nonsensical paperwork. The Pitt also chews out the weeds regularly, people who long served the purpose and are now going to be swallowed into another. Robby is admiral of the ship, although lately the reins have been more empathetic than unrealistic. Trinity and Garcia, brings adventure in, always making him regret his comebacks in shower. Whitaker sort of brings an old soul companionship, of perhaps what good starting look like. People who grew up to be doctors to save the world, not because they lost someone to the system. Frank changes the wave questionably. From a corridor of rush and bouncing legs, he turns to wandering eyes, always finding his reason to stay. Frank brings a personal bodyguard for Mel.

 

Mel, makes everything much more tolerable, life more wonderful, oxygen more cheerful, star more brighter, worries more distant. Apart from invaluable wisdom and intelligence. Mel slowly becomes the thread of kindness that seeps in the gap of puzzles. It’s incomprehensible to him how people were reluctant to open up to her, how she had ever struggled to find her own place in, as if she isn’t the whole hospital herself, as if one looks at the unbounded smile of Mel King and in sanity decides to not to share their entire world with her. Frank doesn’t know how others don’t feel the pull, the constant ache that sits right behind his chest, a more feeling of liveliness than pain. The kind you tell your generations and their generations about. Verbal fights are not enough, he should be allowed to bring in his fist.

 

“No Dr.Langdon, you cannot refuse to treat a patient because he called Mel, a boring white lady whose excitement of the day is watering her roses plant and having a date with a shower clip.”

“You are right. I should have him fucking restrained from the office.”

 

The shirt becomes tighter the next day. Right until the scratches on his bicep become so graspable, people don’t maintain eye contact with him. Mel goes home happy, vibrating, to a date for eternity. Setting the right tone is moral duty of an attending.

He thinks he is the father. No, not like that. Father of Invention, father of reason for the girl group that stands in front of his desk, making working a task greater than finding another earth. There is always an option of asking Mel to move to another place, and make her hips out of his fingertips reach, but then also there is the option of leaving this hospital and never having to move again. The former isn’t a real option anyway. The group ( how does he never escape teenage girl drama?) is beaches, a slight poetic ode to the power of bitches. Samaria, Mel, Trinity are the founding fathers (second generation? He was the first one) with Emma, Victoria , Casey as the new club members. And any girl who has money to pool in.

This is why he is the father. Mel was friends with Mohan. Mel was friends with Santos. Mel was becoming close friends with Victoria. This could possibly relate to three hangouts per week, three after shift activities. Which would have been great for Bachelor Mel, not moving in with girlfriend Mel. She has someone waiting for her at home, counting the seconds, reheating the food knowing she would love it. So he dropped the casual idea, why not club the hangout? Why not just give him one day of suffering? His therapist did mention being kind of self. Necessity is the mother of invention. 

The activities of the club are of no significance but to ensure alcohol in the bloodstream. The opinion, structure and interference of the club keeps it flourishing and charming. The duties are primarily but not limited to, ensuring each other is alive, creating a conscious information exchange network paralleling nurses (they gave up on day 01), exchanging skincare and lingerie deals (Frank felt he would start a trust for just this), approving date outfits, restaurants and boyfriend choices, with such an insane amount of flirting in between, it made no sense, except to the three residents. The club actively frowned upon the presence of men, but had adopted Dennis a few back (coronation included body glitter and crowns, Frank failed to call if they were playing a joke on Whitaker or he was really a special guy). The club was the second husband of Mel, only because Frank woke up with the renowned purpose of topping the choices, though Mel did most of the topping for it. 

Frank rates the club three out of five. Getting Mel to try lipgloss was such an iconic day in ER, five patients had appraised him for healthy masculinity. All he did was suck a face. Getting Mel to try skirts was an intervention by God to make him believe in the goodness of people, that the universe really did listen to those who manifest, or don’t stop having dirty dreams about her girlfriend. Getting Mel to try beach waves while wearing a blue sundress on a beach date was such a stupid move because how embarrassing it would be for one of the people to die on the date due to a cardiac arrest. They used just 30 mins of time.

 

The only part I can tell others about this vacation is room service, Frank!” 

 

To this date Frank doesn’t realise how this was not an invitation for one more round.

 

“Alright, golden retriever! Spill. Mam ain’t got more seconds to waste with you.”

“Hi Dr. Santos. Yes, I am doing good, you know the chaos. Thank you for asking. Oh Yes, the weather is indeed  lovely, such lovely spring days, summer just around the corner. What a great time of the year to enjoy!”

“Careful, your white suburban wife is showing. I don’t have time to make jabs, just give me my winning bet loser. This is the least you could do after giving me trauma on day 01.”

“You literally got me suspended. I am still in therapy because of you.”

“Now your white boy is showing. Why don’t your breed listen at once? Maybe the reason women turn lesbians is really you.”

“That’s okay. Garcia is my lesbian trophy, you would never be able to sleep in peace because of me.” ( Garcia was the devil's trophy. She has just once in a very very very good mood muttered ‘I am a lesbian and even I am appreciating the wanna be post divorce abs, Langdon.’ Santos didn’t know that. Knowledge is power)

“Langdon, be of use once in your life.”

“What do you want from me, go feed on someone else flesh, why do you hate your friend Santos, find your own person to mentally torture”

“You wish you were that important in my life. Slip up, what time after yesterday's date?”

“My personal life is well, personal and mine. Do you really need that third strike from HR?”

“Don’t test the power in these hands. I know your inner 13 year old nerd, super creep by the way, had a field day yesterday.”

“Yes the black dress was ethereal, elegant, exquisite, paradisiacal, sublime, divine, tenuous and something I will actually be grateful to you for in this life. Quote me word to word if your rotten brain manages to remember the complex words. Here let me write it down for the dumb -”

“Can you give me a valid reason why Mel really likes you? Valid. Well-founded. Sound. Solid. Rational. Justifiable. Convincing.”

“Don’t you have anything else to do? Have people stopped dying here?”

“Your Mrs. gave me the break. Just give me a number and let me end the torture. Torture for me of course, you must be excited to talk to a higher IQ person.”

“Fuck off. There is no number. There is nothing for you. Stop being our step child. It is creepy. Deport to Iceland or somewhere.”

“Geez, you came in your pants? Why do stupid men also feisty ? You actually didn't, right? My poor baby, Mel. Oh if she only came to the right side of things. These fingers are an excerpt.”

“She is perfectly fine where she is, stop hogging my women.”

“As if they would ever look at you, if I was an option. The stories don’t build themselves, lovers. The tales of extraordinary satisfaction come from very vocal feedback and outcomes.”

“STOP. Stop ruining my life.”

“You know I have a bet with Mohan on this. Let a girl afford coffee in this economy and then go out and do gay things. Why are you homophobic?”

“I would say you sold your soul for 20 but that implies you have a soul when you have a fucking blackhole feeding on people’s irritation.”

“Confession time, tell me about your sins, dear child.”

“Fine, Mel will kill you for me. 20, I guess.”

“Haha, hey you are funny once every 100 years. There is no way, you lasted 20 minutes with the way my pretty little baby was alluring with blond waves and un-tight dresses.”

“I didn’t mention the word minutes. But hey it has always been your habit to poke nose in things I don’t tell you. And she is not your pretty little baby, she is MINE.”

“Jeez, jealousy is another thing not good on you, after your face of course. But 20 seconds? Damn, that is some game? Did you guys fucking left your table and fucking fucked in washroom. Ugh, so classy of you.”

“Please feel free to fuck off anytime. I gave you enough to win.”

“Take an actual look at me and think if you can get away with it.”

“You are so annoying, they probably coined the word to define your behavior. Fine, we did it in the car. Now do you want how far the car seat went? Maybe you want the angle? Hey she called me a pretty name too, wanna know how many before we got home?”

“Hold the pride horses. Also fuck, I didn’t think Mel had it in her. I always thought she was the kind of person to think about dogs and babies in parking lots.”

“What can I say? My services are capable of great satisfaction scores.”

“Do you think Mel would forgive me if I punched you right now? Maybe if I cry once or twice, I can get away with it. But then your tongue might be the only thing making up for your personality.”

 

“She does prove the ‘it is always the quiet ones’ reddit opinion true. Out of the three, I cannot believe she has the story of public sex. And oh my god that body, of course I am the true appreciator of the art, but I don’t think skorts have looked so good on anyone? Those legs? In heaven is the waist around those they shall wrap themselves. And then the other day we got her to try waist chains and I was a dog with bone. Why is she hiding THAT waist? Do me favour and cut all of her tanks. Just the barest slimmer, because Mel King is the only person who will maintain modesty in a ‘I think porn stars shop from here’ store. And then I found a barest hint of red strap under her shirt. HOW IS RED THAT IN STARK WITH HER SKIN? Like has she any idea what a celebrity she would be in a lesbian bar? Just the red would throw off the line. I get you, I so so so get you, Langdon, I just hope you keep me away from her enough Steal your girl could be your next radio hit.”

 

Frank knows that when the description of Mel King will be written in his biography, the chapter will be skipped, because no words from any language would suffice, no metaphors would paint the accuracy she would undeniably want, no imagery would do justification. The world will have to borrow the eyes of Frank Langdon to understand the most beautiful woman on this earth. Outside and inside. While at it, take his brain out and go through the collection of moments simply labelled as love of my life, the sounds, the arches, the tears, the raise of hips, the urges, the sounds at biting, pulling and pushing. The intelligence to solve problems, the smartness to catch what everyone would miss, the humility to keep good for everyone. Nobody understands fortune more than him. Trinity and Frank cannot be the same. The sour mood rearranges the list of worst things I have heard in this life. Does Trinity want a star for topping?

 

Logically, he knows it is their thing, making each other's day worse, friends with intentions of enemy. Logically, he knows she wasn’t on date yesterday, as Mel stepped out in satin, with black lace pooling around the knees, almost like a curtain, asking if someone remembered this part of her enough. But the peeks meant access, proof of presence, all he would need is one hand under the skirt, higher, higher, higher, until he would have found his right place. Going with her was not enough, he needed to suck right behind that strap, something so pleasurable to peel off skin, another physical proof he was chosen by her, he was chosen for pleasure by her. Perhaps every life decision was meant to be exactly here, good and bad, right and wrong. 

 

Trinity was never in this conversation too.

“Frank, NO, don’t give me that look. We are going home.”

“But I was such a good baby. I did not give into the temptation.”

“We are just 15 mins out, I am all yours then. This is a parking lot. We cannot do that here.”

“I have been stopping myself the entire day. I did even say anything when the wine came and how I could drown you in a bottle and just taste you for hours. This dress wouldn’t even be ruined. I deserve a reward.”

“Here? No we cannot do it here, no, this is so incident, what if there is a child around, fuck what if there is a pet around, no, this is so wrong, move your seat back, now-”

 

The straps did feel delirious falling off the shoulders. The lace felt intriguing against the nipples. So he bit hard, maybe if his mouth was enough, the aftertaste of wine would be a good mixer for the taste of Mel.

Trinity would have the images Mel sent. Trinity would have the coaxed out descriptions. Trinity, much to his discharge, will have the freedom to think about Mel, Mel leg’s, Mel fucking breasts, Mel’s waist, Mel, Mel, Mel. But this is where it would end. The sheets were changed by him. The woman came back home to him. And that would go down as a fact. Reliable, source of truth, unchangeable. 

“Oh hi, babe, how is it going?”

 Frank doesn’t laugh, not externally. Internally he feels reborn. Has the ED always been calming? Have they always been doing this great work? He feels so grateful, saving lives, learning infinite, right by the love of his life. The anxious panic attacks in school, the longer panic attacks in med school, the trembling hands as he cut another human’s hand, the stare contest with pill, the delusion of having a problem, the crush of indeed having a problem, the plead to see him again as a capable human, the begging to just see him as a human. But none of it in vain? In the end, he has a happy ending. He stands as a better doctor, as a better human, babe-d by the most intelligent and sexy woman on this earth, returning home to a bowl of keys, overflowing laundry, an overbearing stack of pamphlets, folded laundry, leftovers and meal prep charts. He gets to see the side of Mel that prepares a list for groceries (alphabetized and categorized), the one calculating savings on bulk deals, the one finding new detergents, new salsa sauces, new stationary for Becca. He puts a hand on her back, as her savings taunt her, as a random woman tells her she is a good daughter. The babe in question will always be him and he can tell it is because Mel knew he needed it. Perhaps the uneasiness of him always finds her. Perhaps every emotion finds validation from her. And she always finds the right thing he needs, things he fails to ask for, fails to think of. But Mel is always a step ahead and always looking out for him. 

 

“You know, it actually does feel really feminist. To say babe to your girlfriends. I loved saying that to you, Trin. I think it is my most favourite one. Do you mind if I keep calling you that here? Or would it be unprofessional?”

“You are my babe, Melly. Anyone who has anything to say can take hateful eyes from me. Alright babygirl, I am off to save the world.”

“Oh Dr.Langdon, shall we have our lunch?”


“Alright, say lego! And we love you the most Frank.”

He knew the proverb. Hell in the ER, you had to hear it once. Yet, as the words morph into his reality, his eyes become misty. They have come such a long way. From explaining why they couldn’t always be outside and why shit was word not to be shared with mommy to stories of friendships and enmity, to opinions on beetroots and cheer up cards for the classroom, his kids were racing against the time. With a big win. How could yesterday be him buying his first ‘all to know as a parent book’, cradling the smallest head on his palm, and today being signing report cards? Oh seeing the 26 letters, neatly arranged in cursive on a sheet, on knowing his daughter knew 2+2 is 4 and feeling like he had accomplished the most by a human being? Time and Tide, waiter of none, indeed.

 

“Common penguin, help me pick the stickers for this one!”

Frank knew he was a good dad. Not on all days but when he looked at the two goodness he produced in the world, the pride settled like the wind. The world needed two sharp, kind, loving, trusting hearts and hell yeah, they came from him, biologically and morally. There was good in his son and somewhere there had to be good in him too. By the definition of patriarchy and Instagram trad wives  accounts, he is up for the President. Might have a statue made in his honor and have ted talks all ending in one sentence, ‘be like me.’ The first year had been a flying high, compliments all around the street, until even his children learnt new words and helped him move on from ‘ba ba’ responses.  He loved spending time with kids, especially without the tag of good father. They were his, blood, flesh, dirt, accountability, responsibility. How hard were these words to grasp for other men?

 

The one advantage to growing up with four brothers and fascinatingly only one, is, the youngest is the prince. The one advantage of being the prince of the house with the bluest eyes with the rosiest cheeks and stubborn curls meant superpower of always hearing a yes. 

Ben, you know the rules, Frankie goes with you!”

The A’s on the table always went straight to facebook friends ( Calm down dad! You have two more sons who know how to write eleven!) ,  the permissions- a roundtable conference, the house filled with baby pictures. He has 400 alone in his first year. Alex had 350 in total! His mom had made him a scrapbook for every year, filling it with flowers, love, messy animal drawings, tears and infinite love. In a fire emergency, he would go back for them, unmasked. The tradition continued with her grandkids, and while his cloud would be more than enough for them to remember their milestones, Frank loved the old schoolness of it. Stopping to buy patterned tapes, adding stickers to polaroid frames, and adding a note of ‘dad loves you the most’ at the bottom of the page. It was equally for him and them. Physical proof of love, along with the sea in his heart. 

 

Huh. He really, really, really, needed to convince Mel to join his side. Melissa King was neither allergic to photography, albeit a bit triggered by flash nor resistant to digitally preserving memories. She was in an ever going protest against the art of posing and nitpicking herself in said hardcopy. For some reason, Mel would happily take the photo, observe it for 5 seconds and happily find 50 things wrong with her. Always, her.

 

“Look at my smile! It is lopsided!”

“Mel, you are on 20x zoom. No one sees an instagram post of a coworker and thinks hey, 20 x zoom. I bet her smile is not even.”

“But  the knowledge is out there. I would know and somehow whenever anyone would mention this photo, i would tell them, but my smile was loopy! Plus how do you know anyone doesn’t do that, I have found santos doing it 100 times.”

“Because she is a creep. Baby, you look like the most gorgeous woman on this earth. Maybe, because YOU ARE. No, maybe, you definitely are!”

“No, No, No! You can post the other ones! Oh, you and Becca look so cute. I want to post that one too!”

 

 Both his and Becca’s eyes were shut in that one. Frank knows this fight is long and without an end goal, the insecurities are the first life partner you get. If only Mel could see what everyone else had, her looking straight at her with a smile threatening to expand out of the photo, as if there was simply anything else to look into this world for. The photo rests between a heart cutout from a borrowed pink sheet from Becca’s craftbox, and Frank finally finds himself understanding the giggly, swinging legs, teenage girl in rom-coms. Teaches him more empathy, if you look at it another way. 

 

He really, really, really wishes he could convince Mel to take one for the refrigerator. Maybe at the picnic, as he kisses her cheek under the hat, the shadows of sunscreen still on his face, the bougainvillea matching the pink under her skin. Maybe at the company dinner, as the straps hang on her back, the ever flowing fabric scrunched in his fist, the lapels smoothened by her. Just after they emerge mysteriously from a closet, Mel always said the post orgasm glow is her best. Maybe just at the lake, as they build the puzzle with two sets of tiny stands, and a runny nose, when the sky looks so bright, he wonders if gods above work for her. They can join his corporation. Sighs, yearning is indeed the final stage of love.

 

The devil is in the details. Heaven is suspiciously also lying underneath those details. Knowledge is power, anyway. The details save lives, so fragile slipping away in minutes. Details helped him come back to a hospital with traits of haunted house, to a boss who has finally turned into a supportive good friend. Mel loves details. Frank loves Mel. Frank loves the details of Mel. Of the moles at her back, only he gets to access. Of the patterns loved on curtains, of spices that make ramen enjoyable, tangles that make shows more watchable. He finds himself remembering cuts and scratches, he finds himself remembering hair tie colors and nail paint chipping schedules. Mel finds it endearing, Frank doesn’t see it above responsibility. 

The white frame is a siren. Something is not only impossible to notice, it is placed strategically at the front, above chore charts, above lists, above reminders, to be seen, to be admired, to be a memory to come home too. The photo strip is the newest addition to the family. Mel looks radiant. Frank wonders if indeed the brain is capable of putting filters. Hallucinations are an untapped field of study. Perhaps the only way to see Mel King is with joy, smiles, arousal and fondness. To see the in sync peace signs, the attempts at pouts, the overthrown hug, the cheek kiss. The pink frame somehow adds to the beauty, unsurprisingly, many things of the world do. The second person makes him listen to cat scratches, of pointed chalks shrilling on boards, of iron nails hammered into his mind, until his memory blocks out the face with trauma. Trinity Santos found a place on the old ragged ‘my husband is a cheater so I am selling everything from his house at quarter price’ yard sale before him. 

 

“You guys went to the photobooth!”

The right decision was to wait. To have Mel woken up to kisses on thighs and bites on stomach. To a tongue on mission. To whisper good morning, as her hands travel along his body and find the perfect rhythm. To shout in her ear, as the world becomes that wonderful place where only two people exist. To let her shower, put breakfast on the table, play with breakfast on the table and curl on the couch with no attempts to get up. Then slowly, smoothly, in the middle of one big sitcom moment, introduce the question. No scales tipped. Frank waits one second after Mel curls into him, his lips still glistening, his tongue still darting out for more. 

“Incapable of words, sorry.”

“You need to host a class on how to boost a guy's ego. But no, other people shouldn’t get that. Only, I will be the student. Fuck, you like that baby? Teacher-student roleplay 2.0 sweetheart? Melissa King, do you want extra credit, a letter of recommendation if you are good for me throughout- ”

“FRANK, unfair.”

“I have the fairest grade curve. You have to work hard to earn the top position in this class, babygirl.”

“I hate you. So much. Forever. And more.”

“Yeah, forever and more. So photobooth, you guys went to a photobooth.”

“Um what? Oh yeah, me and Trin! We were coming back from our karaoke night and there was a middle school fundraiser doing it. Two birds one stone, Trin was begging me for pictures, and well charity is always good. So yeah we took 4 photo strips. She got one, I got one.”

“I said I wanted to join karaoke night.”

“And I said we need capable hands for night patients too. We will take you the next time, I promise. Now, hands-”

“Is it going to be a regular thing, like a tradition with Santos, now? Karaoke ? Photobooth?”

“Nevermind, hearing Santos in bed did it for me, I think the mood is over. Also I think so? I don’t know, I never had this sort of thing with friends? I don’t know if it is really tradition, but we both try to schedule it, and we both do have a good time together.”

“You and I have ample of great traditions. We always try a new movie on Thursday, a new dish on the second Saturday, kiss each other after the first save of the day, kiss each other after the last save of the day, morning runs on Wednesday, chocolate cookies on Sunday. Sufficient, in my humble opinion.”

“You and I are different. You also have access to my sleep shorts right now, which are miraculously moving down by a hand that seems attached to you-”

“Don’t interrupt the doctor’s handiwork. But other people could feel left out, maybe karaoke could be a group thing, more voices are always fun, and I could join more if we set a day around and inform Dana, yeah that would work really great, and till when was the charity? Gotta take the kids to the booth, it will be such a sweet memory-”

“Oh, is it weird, I like it when it is just me and Trin? It’s just, we don’t always have overlapping social activities, I like we got one common thing in our Venn diagram. And I don’t know if the booth was a multiple day thing, I think it was just for yesterday.”

“No, what you say always makes sense honey, I am glad you have a friend, people should be on their knees to keep you in life. You should take the photo down though, it would get ruined by kitchen water or splashes, maybe keep in a memory box and see it once a year and feel nostalgic about it-”

“I look weird in it right? I knew that! It was such a long shift and I didn’t even brush my hair. Trin just took away the hair band and then put it through some tiktok messy bun tutorial and I am just all over the place, of course, thank you for noticing that for me-”

“Mel, no! You are beautiful, Most beautiful. So much, that would never be able to get me up from you now. You and I will be mummified and the words would be , human with the most beautiful creature in this universe. You look great, baby, you always and always do! We will keep the photo right where it is. It belongs there.”

 

And the knife in my heart. We will keep the knife twisted there too. Frank completes the sentence in his brain. Five photos that Mel loved with Trinity, watched after heavy shifts to decompress, laminated to stop spoiling from kitchen splashes, brought  a fridge magnet to decorate, while Frank stood and just added one more to favourites. But not on the door of the refrigerator. 


Trinity starts appearing everywhere. Like a bad omen. A ghost. Say her name thrice and the devil shall help you to the worst day of your life. Trinity appears when they are carpooling back from the bar, after one girl night he has been allowed to join and suddenly the numbers are a puzzle. Someone has to sit in someone’s lap and frustratingly, it cannot be Mel in the driver seat, on top of Frank. She dismisses the decision with so much speed, he cannot even go forward with his point to try once. So starts the permutation and combination. Cannot be Dennis, too awkward as roommates, cannot be Samaria who borderlines on puking her last cherry vodka out, cannot be Ellis who giggles and hiccups every nine seconds like an arithmetic progression. They could always crumble up in the boot space and hope nothing breaks on the way. Even if it does, she is in capable hands of restitching and surgery. Garcia can be manipulated a bit. But suddenly, Mel and Santos have a millisecond eye moment and the world gets another eureka moment. 

 

“Yeah I am comfortable, just don’t tighten your hands around my stomach too much. Thighs are okay, and I will try not to squirm too much. You will be our first drop anyway. It will be short and the passenger seat does have more space than the backseat, problem solved! I am your lap partner for this semester.”

 

Frank knows the feeling. Trinity knows the feeling, Frank is feeling. Frank knows Trinity knows the feeling, he is feeling. 

“Steady Mel baby, I can feel you coping a feel. Oh chill, the feeling is very welcomed to the lady.”

“Dividers are for slowing down Langdon, any faster and Mel and I would have made a baby. Don’t worry, you will be the godfather. Good thing I am not exclusive or I would have a very interesting conversation with my partner today, Mel you are officially my number five cheating list option.”

“Oh babe, you do have the smoothest thighs, no razor burns, damn you are a dream in a lesbian bar. Gotta take you once and start a rumour, we fucked. I have been trying to go out with this bartender, nothing more sharp than jealousy.”

True words, indeed. 

Frank wobbles the dining chair first, then buys stain remover second, pours glitter solution on couch third.  There is a little profit he made from stocks trading last week. What was it about one life and enjoyment to fullest? Mel stops wearing shorts altogether, after the day, the things are more purple than skin.


Santos is planning a coup. The when, how, where remain unquestioned and frankly unimportant. Frank should have seen it coming, hell he knew he would find himself on hands with someone. However, only Frank would be the smoother stealer. And he had hoped it was a man, a boring regular library working man, who neither could name all nerves starting with ‘s’ in 40 seconds and didn’t poked guts to impress Mel. He can still turn his shortcomings into an upper hand. The last win is the victory of a war. Santos can only start, it is him at the finishing line, in shining diamonds. 

Trinity is going to propose to Mel. To be her girlfriend, exclusive, leave Frank and be mine, leave Frank and become my room partner as we get endless subscription of karaoke, leave Frank and eat the weird dish I made from noodles, leave Frank and get your hair braided into prettiest strands by me. She is going to go down on a knee and say the words, Mel has heard from a different mouth at different places, I love you. He doesn’t blame Trinity. He understands her atomically, actually. He understands how easy the wave of falling in love with Mel is, how the entire life rearranges in concentric circles around her, how everything is simply better. Frank basked in his pleasure and he respected Trinity for yearning a sip of that oasis. He too stood no chance against the span of freckled honey skin, reminding him of the shining sand, when he closed his eyes and still felt warmth behind them. There is a reason his vacation place hasn’t changed in thirty years. Frank understands. And now Frank plans. Before her, he will go down on knees, and Mel King can be stolen. Mel King, soon to be King Langdon is a warning that will sweep the whole town. Let the festivities begin.

 

Imagining a future with Mel is purposeless and ineffectual. There is no imagination needed. All the answers start and end at Mel. Should they get a bigger house in a better area? Whenever Mel feels like moving. Will they have more kids? Whatever Mel decides. Isn’t it too soon to jump into another life commitment so soon? It is Mel, any other life commitment is missing Mel. But they have known each other for so short ? It is Mel, there is nothing more to know, and ah well, it will keep life interesting. What about big fights? Whatever Mel wants. 

Whatever Mel wants because all now Frank wants is a ring on her finger, in a chain round her neck as she brings another glory to the hospital, on the slimy surface of bars, so that men always know she in unapproachable, on the cutting board of their kitchen, as they cook a future together and preferable in her, if he plays all the cards right. He will be fucking his fiancee tonight. 

The ring is so Mel, he figures the world was waiting for him to do a google search and borrow Casey’s pinterest account. The stone looks like the snowflake that had fallen on her eyelash once, after the snowball fight, when christmas snow really felt like a clean state and not another year passing by. When he first found hope after his rehab, and now he finds her everyday. 

 

In the end it is so simple, it is perfect. There are candles on the table. Electronic, he knows the woman he is going to marry. Marry! There is a chocolate mud cake in the oven, a family recipe. Oh she would be officially family now! In the centre of the table sits the diamond and the whole apartment feels like a setup around it. The gate opens, and in flushed cheeks, a yellow dress swaying, a blond strand escaping, a single hoop in her hand, a bandaged toe, a barely there lipgloss, is the only thing better than that ring. The first tear from Frank's eye lands directly on his shoe. 

“I always have a lot to say, when it comes to you. But here is the thing, I want a forever with you, to tell you everything. I want to feel a lot, even though I have always been told to not. All of it with you. You. You. You. Will you marry me, darling?”

“No.”

 

“Frank, baby, please look at me.”

They are on chairs, double dining room chairs, where Frank sits on one corner and Mel sits diagonal, not perfectly aligned, like they are supposed to be. Like the last time he and Abby sat and finally said the doomed word into the air, divorce, breakup, separate. Life is a full circle and the circle repeats itself after the first iteration.

“I, I will move out of course, you can still have the ring, I cannot look at it, and oh god, I told Becca- I am so sorry Mel, -”

“Baby, please, please, please stop crying, and let’s talk-”

“Oh god, I shouldn’t have really told Becca and kids, I have more sense than that- and now you will feel guilty when it isn’t even your fault and sorry I cannot stop crying, I am really trying-”

“Babe, honey, darling, common on, deep breaths for me-”

“Okay, the light's receipt is still here. I am going to pack a duffel and then you can Santos over, she is good Mel, I know I hate her, but she is good, and oh shit the oven-”
“Frank, my fucking future husband, would you JUST LISTEN TO ME?”

“Future husband?”

“Of course, do I look like someone who loses words in anger? Have you ever beaten me at scrabble?”

“Yeah, now is the time to kick me down.”

“Sorry, but I meant it. Can we please please please have a talk after you have had half a bottle of water ?”

“Okay, I am listening, go on-”

“I do want to marry you-”

“Fuck, did you say something after no, oh god this is worst proposal story, you will be able to tell no one-”

“No. I was going to say no only. Like I don’t want to marry you.”

“What the hell? Do I or do I not cry?”

“I want to marry you eventually. Not right now, but baby, when I think about my future, I don’t think about you. You are an irreplaceable source of truth factor. You are there, because it is you and me. There is no other reality or explanation. This was a once life lock-in. If you get the next life, I am there too. Why are you tearing up, again?”

“Sorry, that was really beautiful, you wanting me like that, fuck, sweetheart, I am there for more after forever too.”

“Thank you, because you don’t have any options now.”

“We don’t have to marry now, we could do schedule it for later-”

“No, I want to be called a fiancee and then a wife in the following year. Plus, people always assume there is something weird going on between people who wait too much, like they are not sure enough. Like someone proposed too soon because of a false pregnancy and now don’t know how to take it back. And I love the phase of wedding planning, it is highlight of life and for so long, everything is about you, well us-”

“Yeah anything about you is good enough for me-”

“I love you so much. I said no, because I feel we are rushing in, not that I will regret saying yes today, I would never regret it, I just want to enjoy every phase of a relationship with you. I want to be called your girlfriend so many times, nurses start referring to me like that. I want us to come home for years and still tease each other as boyfriend and girlfriend, while Dana makes endless jokes about good girls never waiting. I want people to grow exasperated at how in love we are and they are sick of us, with just marrying her already spoken thousand times. And then I want you to propose, with this same ring, because it is so beautiful and then I want everyone to shout congratulations and finally! I want you to correct every person we have ever met with ‘actually she is my fiancee now’ and then discuss questions on will you take his last name? I want to cry because wedding planning is tiring and I want you to make me forget, because in the end it is our wedding, I would stand in a sports jersey and you would marry me. I want to create moodboards, I want to look into expensive dresses and then say they are not worth it, but then say fuck it, and buy it at once. And I want you to taste 15 different cake flavours with me and settle on vanilla. And then 15 different icings. And then 15 different creams. And then 15 different toppings. And then we will be married and people will tell stories of how they always knew we were going to end up here. Because, let’s be frank, we were going to.”

“Oh-”

“Yeah princess. I would marry you in an instant and never look back with regret. But Frank, we have so much time, we have so much to live, I want every cringe thing with you. Because I don’t ask much from this world, and I keep being kind because one should be, but when it comes to us, I want to feel everything and more with you. For once I am on neither side of the timeturner, I have a person who would get me through everything. I am sickenly self assured. I am a therapist's wet dream.”

“Fuck off therapist, you are just mine, mine, mine, mine, mine. I am so sorry baby, I want it too, all of it, in the same way you described, in the same way you want it. I know it sounds bad, but I wanted to win a sports tournament and run all sweaty to kiss you too. I want you to take you to my home town and show off as my girlfriend too. I want to chastise my maa and say it is too soon for a wedding too. I want to imagine you in a wedding dress too. I want to propose, with better timing and social clues next time too, as people see the new chapter beginning, and then I want to tell you everyday of the wedding planning that I cannot wait for the night of marriage. I want to fight you on the wedding song too. I love you, for some reason I got so much into my head, that I thought I had to lock this down, before someone else had any opportunity too. Billions can love you baby, but fuck, you come home to me, always to me, never have to think this is race when the whole fucking prize and organization is mine.”

“I love you, forever and more.”

 

“I hadn’t even told enough people at hospital, like enough patients haven’t even flirted with you and I have roped in saying, actually he has a girlfriend-”

“Baby, I just gave you two best orgasm of your life, and your words not mine, why are you a coherent human being, come back to sleep-”

“I have never once claimed you in public, you have never even showed up in with a hickey or back scratches, there are no locker room rumours-”

“I guess we are cuddling then. Straighten up, and wear a damn shirt, I will die here and then you can have your rumours.”

“I haven’t even introduced you to my previous mean coworkers as my hot boyfriend, oh stop getting turned on by this-”

“Yeah, like that has ever workers for us.”

“I didn’t change my status on facebook, fuck no one knows I am officially in a relationship-”

“Am I on facebook?!”

“I haven’t soft launched you on instagram too, fuck, forget hard launch, you have not been launched anywhere, there is no dedicated highlight to you, there is no song dedicated to you-”

“Oh, feeling more special.”

“No, I haven’t used the word boyfriend enough time in sentences. I just got you out of a marriage Frank,  why cannot you be a boyfriend for just 6 months-”

“Point taken, my lord.”

“Do you even understand how hard it is to be wifed up by a handsome man?”



Notes:

If it in anyway feels inspired by other pieces out in fiction, it might actually be, my brain is mush of them content, always consuming, always hungry. Whosoever find their piece in here, thank you for motivating me to create something to!