One Life To Live

Getting back down to business, Melanie removed the gauze wrap she meticulously placed over my cut, and fixed her critical eyes on it. I’d never seen her like this – her hair pulled back in a low, carefree ponytail; tendrils sneaking out to waft in her face, the sweatpants, and the Minnesota Gophers t-shirt she wore. The now, calculating med student was in full swing as she thought through how to take the best foot forward on an odd situation she was pushed into. As I focused my eyes on the wound briefly, I was pleasantly surprised. There was a thin line of blood protruding from the wound, but not gushing nonstop as it had before. Mel bit her lip as she analyzed the battle scar (hopefully it wouldn’t be one.) in concentration as she dug for the tools she was seeking on the round table. I was correct when I said to myself that this last minute ditch effort to see her was going to be one hell of a rude awakening.

Every time she unconsciously whisked her falling hair back, I’d wanted to reach my hand forward and do it for her. The undeniable urge to take her – sigh – adorably serious face into my hands and taste her lips with mine…God, I was driving myself nuts.

“Okay,” Mel paused, peering up at me with her green-blue eyes, “I’ve got a Nova cane shot for your arm.”

“No, no.” I immediately rejected. “I don’t need it, Mel.”

“Well you’re going to get it,” she declared in a no-nonsense tone. I almost cracked a smile at this one. “I’m not going to have you squirming around when I’m sewing this mess up.”

In her defense, it did make sense. Of course, I will make the silent concession that I wasn’t crazy about getting needles into my skin. I wasn’t a pussy, but the way they intruded into my veins like that…I literally think I’d rather get sliced with a knife again. But I trusted her. I gave her a small, brief smile that curled at the corners. “Okay, Mel.” I replied endearingly.

Her eyes flickered up to mine for a few seconds, and I swear she was studying me, trying to find answers in my gaze. I didn’t even know what she was trying to find, but I stared right back, sending a nonverbal message to let her know I’m on the same wavelength. Not that we’d ever had that problem before.

She swallowed, obviously noticing the tension as she cast her eyes away from me, and gathered the Nova cane needle in her hand. “Small pinch,” she said deftly. I mentally sighed, here we go. She expertly pinched my skin as she poked the medium–sized needle into my arm. I was astonished when I didn’t feel the needle puncture my skin at all. The pinching was the thing I felt, not the alien-like needle seeping into my skin, I mused. Good trick.

“Five minutes or so,” she said, tossing the cap of the needle into the waste basket, and covering the injection site with a small, circular band-aid. I nodded in response.

Mel sighed, and reached over to her right to pick up her remote, changing the channel to TNT, which was airing an episode of Bones.

I leaned forward, my forearms on my legs, trying to think of something to say that would make her see. However, it kept eluding me. I didn’t want to just tell her I loved her again because she already knew that. No – I was going to come up with a strategic plan. Déjà vu hit me right then as I remembered her saying something to me that first night we went out - , “you like to party and play games with people,” is what I think she said. I could quote it to the T. Odd because I never had a photographic memory. “It’s all a matter of pride, and success with you. If you do not win in the games you play, you get…discontent, unsettled.” Yes. I was very discontent at the moment, Mel, that’s for sure. How about you and me go make up by taking a stroll through Central Park? I smiled. Maybe we could neck on the couch after to relieve all this goddamn stress, I thought as I stared her down from where I was sitting. If only.

Numbness spread down my arm, so I knew the Nova cane was doing its job. Odd, I was always used to Nova cane being drilled into my gums from a couple cavities I had as a kid. Now it was doing justice for an intense gang fight – quite the contrary. As Bones went to a commercial break when Booth got kidnapped by God-knows-who, Mel turned, and laid her delicate hand on my shoulder.

“Is it feeling numb yet?” Mel inquired, her brows forming a tight line.

I nodded in affirmation. She then nodded like she wasn’t surprised. I wonder how many times she’s done this before – sewing up a cut. Probably on a dummy, I mused, not a living, breathing person. “I gave you an extra dose,” she explained, “I knew just one wouldn’t work.”

Now it was my turn to throw a little gas on the fire – ruffle her complacent feathers. “Because of all my muscles?” I smiled wide, clearing knowing I was being irrational. I waited for her reaction.

Her skin flushed subtly, and she nodded, a quick smile appearing on her face. Huh, I thought, maybe I wasn’t being irrational at all. I looked at her for a moment. I loved her smile – I’ve missed it. “Something like that,” she almost joked. She tugged the loose band out of her hair, and it fell in curly drapes on her shoulders. She was growing it out, I immediately speculated. It hung right on top of her – damn it – breasts, which I also found myself admiring. I was a dead man, but at least I could admit it, right?

“This hair is driving me nuts,” she murmured, suddenly self – conscious like she had to explain herself for the pause in procedure. It’s all right, I replied silently; take as much time as you want.

“Growing it out?” I responded, a smile in my voice.

She darted her eyes to mine, raising her eyebrows in surprise that I noticed something trivial like that. “Yes,” she answered, puzzled.

I nodded, watching her. “I like it, Mel.”

Her jaw hardened ever so slightly as the compliment came out of my mouth. I wanted to smack myself in the head. What did she care if I liked it or not? Clearly this was setting off the mental alarm system in her head that reminded her of our intense relationship we’d ended. She bit down on the side of her lip, and reverted back to her sewing needles.

“Lay your arm flat on the table.” I did so, and she continued. “You shouldn’t be able to feel anything, if you do, tell me so I can give you another shot.”

Joy.

-----------------

“That’s it,” she declared, sighing in relief. Spreading out her cramped fingers, and rotating her shoulders back, she pushed conspicuous hairs off her forehead absentmindedly as she rose from her seat. I did the same. I didn’t know how she could sit there for 30 minutes and not jerk or fidget. Maybe I just had the ADD when I insisted on bouncing my leg up and down, or cocking my head to the side and back as she worked on my arm. Obviously she was suited to be a doctor.

I nodded, meeting her gaze. “Thanks for doing this, Mel.” I said truthfully.

She nodded in recognition, pausing to look down. After a moment, she cleared her throat, saying, “Doing my job.”

She sucked her bottom lip in – out of habit, I deducted. Her lips. If I was going to take a chance to finally break free of this silly, cordial, “friendly” illusion she had going, my chance was now. What did I have to lose? I lost her, so what else mattered but trying to get her back?

“Really,” I muttered in a low voice, reaching forward to close the distance between us as I touched my hands to her wrists. “I really appreciate it, Mel.” I caught and held her wary eyes before she could look away once more. Her arms grew stiff, and I knew she was beginning to cage me off. Feeling a powerful confidence kick in, I leaned down, my eyes watching her like a hawk as they flashed before I connected my lips to hers in a more-than-friendly kiss. I expected her not to respond as I met her soft, supple, excruitiatingly lips. Yes, this is exactly what I had missing these last three weeks. Fuck self control, I thought. I just wanted her to be mine again.

As contact of my hands to her body increased, her muscles in her arms tensed, and I knew then that she was trying to fight it. That she most likely didn’t want to feel this way again, I supposed. Not at this level. Well, too bad, Mel, I fought back. You know as much as I do that this feels damn good. Because I was selfish and knew I couldn’t bear being without her, my tongue dragged against the line separating her lips while I kissed her hotly. At this point, I needed a reaction out of her. Whether she withdrew and screamed at me, or she yanked my hair and made out with me just because she could as a single woman. I hoped for the latter. I could deal with the bullshit emotions that were bound to come afterward.

I parted my lips, resting my nose against hers, staring into her eyes. She stared right back, dread and misery creasing her forehead. Her tormented, glistening eyes tore through me. Damn it. It’s not like I wanted to make her teary eyed and sad. I just wanted to rewind from the crappy supper at my parent’s, and go back to being her boyfriend. She didn’t make a move, just stood there stunned. I held my ground for a few moments before releasing myself from her. I gave her one last, serious glance before I turned my back to her, plucking my jacket from the couch and walking through her door.