suchalady
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But Frank was the one who had taken her under his wing that first day, watched out for her, listened to her, learned from her. He was kind, in a way that didn’t feel like he was pitying her or babying her. Frank respected her as a doctor, as a person, and Mel now wanted to know how he’d treat her as a woman.
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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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She stared down at his picture on her phone in confusion. Like it was a bomb she'd been given only seconds to diffuse. She could handle a cricothyrotomy or a spinal tap, but Mel had trained for neither bombs nor online dating.
She panicked.
(Mel finds out about Frank's divorce via his Tinder profile because they're both trying to distract themselves from their crushes)
Bookmarked by suchalady
12 May 2026
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Ten months gone, ten months back. Frank Langdon goes to his first Ren Faire to save Mel King from being a third wheel, and not at all because he's in love with her.
Bookmarked by suchalady
06 May 2026
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He doesn’t know why he does it, says, “Let me,” and gestures for her to turn around. He thinks she’ll wave him off, tell him not to worry, that she can do it herself.
But she doesn’t.
She turns around so her back is to him, and he takes a step closer, reaching up to grab onto her braid, slowly sliding the hair tie off.
He puts it on his wrist, next to the one he already has on, and the plait almost falls apart on its own, but he can’t help putting his hands in her hair, undoing the braid and running his fingers through the strands gently.
“There you go,” he says quietly once her hair is loose around her shoulders.
She sighs and leans into him, her back against his chest, and tilts her head to rest on his shoulder.
Bookmarked by suchalady
30 Apr 2026