LOVED.

            NOSTALGIA seeped through her veins as the blonde stood at the reception desk, flipping through a young girl’s chart. this was the place where george confessed his syphilis outbreak, where mer puked all over the floor when everyone assumed appendicitis was pregnancy, where ALEX helped pass the countless hours of paperwork with his sarcastic jokes and excessive flirtation. it was home. izzie hadn’t necessarily come back for alex —-  technically, she HAD come back for a case. however, she desperately sought closure. she had CONVINCED herself that she had moved on, that she no longer wanted the other. relationships of hers had come and gone since him, but no one could fill the black hole of regret that she had felt ever since.

            brown orbs scanned the room, the way someone would look at a foreign country when visiting for the first time. a culture shock. bewildered, but still drinking in the sights and sounds. eyes flickered back down to the clipboard before she instantly did a double take and saw him. there he was, alex karev in the flesh, hovering tensely over a patient’s bed. the surgeon stared dumbfoundedly. izzie had so thoroughly made herself believe that she would never see him again that actually seeing him was a major wake up call.  a breath of fresh air that she didn’t know she needed. eyes averted their gaze the second he left the room and headed into the attending’s lounge. the paperwork had long since been forgotten about.

            legs carried her quietly into the room, shutting the door behind her. she approached slowly, much like if alex were some feral, wild ANIMAL that was baring it’s teeth, ready to attack at any moment. she shouldn’t have done this. she shouldn’t have followed him, shouldn’t have chased him. she shouldn’t have come back at all. dammit, she should have known better. he deserved better than this game of cat and mouse and he always did. ❛ —- ALEX. ❜ the name escaped her breathily like she had been punched in the gut. she couldn’t stop the way her lower lip quivered with emotion or the way her voice shook unreliably. she had thought she had moved on, sure, but she still loved him. god, did she love him. that was one thing that never changed.SEVEN years had passed yet the name fell effortlessly from her lips as if saying it were still a HABIT.

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            ———don’t. just—— don’t, alright? ❜  she hasn’t done anything. she doesn’t have to. all she has to do is walk in, and all he can picture is sunshine finally breaking through on a cloudy day; say his name like that, like she’s been waiting to say it for years, and all he wants is to hear it for the rest of time; look at him with those big, brown eyes, and all he wants is to get lost in them. the vulnerability is both frightening and infuriating. she’d been gone for so long, after all. long enough for him to get over her and even want to marry someone else, despite the relationship falling apart after she kept so much from him. and yet all it takes is for izzie to waltz in here and be IZZIE for him to realize that it had never been anyone else. it had always been her, even when he hadn’t wanted it to be.

          his hands find his hips, nestling neatly beneath his lab coat as he meets her eyes. this wouldn’t be happening if she hadn’t come back. he had pushed her away, told her he deserved better — but that doesn’t mean he didn’t want her to fight for him. she should have stayed and fought, but she left him and he had managed to cope with that. he dealt with all of his emotions without closure, forcing them down until they were so quiet that he could forget about them. now that she’s here, they’ve all been dredged up. they’re a muddle of hurt and heartbreak and longing, but the easiest one to hold on to, the one that he habitually gravitates towards like the earth to the sun, the one that so naturally comes to him, is anger. the words he lost just a few moments earlier have returned with a vengeance.

            ❛ why’d you have to come back, huh?   he demands of her, the telltale stinging that precedes tears irritating his eyes.   i was fine without you. i was fine with you being gone. you couldn’t have just done your surgery and left, right? you had to come see me. well, i don’t want to hear whatever crap you have to say. just do your damn surgery and get the HELL out of here like you should have done in the first place.   alex realizes he had gotten closer to her during his tirade, a good three or four feet. tears that spilled are hastily brushed from his cheeks with the back of his hand. he’s angry that she left. he’s angry that she’s back. he’s angry that she still loves him. ( he can tell. ) most of all, he’s angry that he still loves her back.

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@lxstfights

          everything from the moment after seeing izzie through the window into his patient’s room on feels slow. it’s the only way he knows to describe it. slow and arduous, like trying to run in a pool or punch in a dream. he has to consciously make his legs keep moving, make his fingers keep their grip on the tablet in hand, make his smile stay bright for the girl in the bed — nine year old jenna fischer, whose parents had a world renowned neurosurgeon fly across the country to perform a risky procedure. he answers the parents’ questions habitually once whatever resident is in the room is finished presenting her case, but he doesn’t quite remember doing it.

          somehow he winds up in the hallway, mind catching up with time, expression screaming ‘you really don’t want to talk to me right now,’ muscles unknowingly clenched finally relaxing. he hates that she can elicit such a visceral reaction from his after all this time — but maybe it’s because it’s been so long that her presence shakes him to the core. he’d kept up with her, sure. he read about her successful clinical trials and fancy surgeries whenever they popped up on his screen, but other than that, she hasn’t existed to him in years. he’s just seen a ghost, and he finds respite from the tax it puts on him in the thankfully empty attendings’ lounge.

          of course, not for very long. footsteps he still recognizes approach the door, pause, and all of the sharp words ( more akin to knives, really ) he had prepared run at the sight of her.

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  "I still love the people I’ve loved, even if I cross the street to avoid them." 

      — Uma Thurman  (via thelovejournals)  

atlas carries

today's the day my life begins. all my life i've been just me, just a smart mouth kid. today i become a
M A N.

the world

ind. pri. sel. alex karev
penned by sabrina
est. april 9th, 2016
#smartmcuth

dutifully 'pon

drafts: 20
asks: 15
starters: 13

weary shoulders

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previously bcttleworn