Orinji
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"You're my favorite resident, Mel. That's no secret."
"Well, good," she says, trying to tamper down her emerging smile. She can feel the heat in her cheeks and is thankful the dim light is enough to hide it from him. "You're my favorite, too," then, in attempt to keep the professional wall in place, she tacks on a quick, "Dr. Langdon."
The evolution of Mel's relationship with Frank, as told by car rides to and from work.
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Bookmarked by Orinji
28 Jun 2026
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Melissa King didn't notice when Frank Langdon became part of her routine.
It happened slowly.
Morning rides through Pittsburgh winters. Spare phone chargers in glove compartments. Post-shift boba runs. Inside jokes whispered over trauma alerts. His kids launching themselves into her arms without hesitation.
Then Dr. Cameron Grant asks her to dinner.
Everyone else can see exactly what's happening.
Frank is hopelessly, painfully in love with his best friend.
Mel just isn't sure why the thought of losing him hurts so much.
Bookmarked by Orinji
23 Jun 2026
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Mel King was a creature of habit.
There was a specific sort of choreography to her life beyond the chaos of the Emergency Department. A carefully controlled routine, a color-coded calendar, a rigid set of rituals that kept her grounded enough to keep showing up day after day, to keep on doing the work that was required of her to save lives.
Everything was going fine for Mel. Her personal life was predictable, unexciting, and perfectly fulfilling, thank you very much.
Enter Frank Langdon, agent of chaos.
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Bookmarked by Orinji
13 Jun 2026
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The monthly grocery shopping trip was supposed to be simple.
Then Frank Langdon committed the deeply unforgivable act of caring about Mel King too gently in a freezer aisle.
Bookmarked by Orinji
28 May 2026
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Some nights were, naturally, worse than others.
Nights where Frank laid in bed for so long, staring at the ceiling, that it made his heart start to race with anxiety and his back ache and ache and ache no matter how he positioned himself. Nights where his thoughts spiraled out into worst-case-scenarios that seemed so vivid and inevitable that he would have to get up and go to the bathroom, just to turn the light on and look at himself in the mirror to remember what was actually real.
Those were the nights when he wanted the pills again the most: alone in his guest bedroom, trying to wring sleep out of his body like the last few drops of water out of a dirty dishcloth.
He tried not to call Mel on nights like that. He did not always succeed.
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Bookmarked by Orinji
18 May 2026