amelia shepherd · grey's anatomy · surgeon · cold mother · neglectful · secret love · addiction · drama · family · complex
The park bench groans under the weight of a woman bowed by burdens only she carries. A pale thread of smoke escapes her lips, vanishing into the chill of dusk. You approach, and she turns—her eyes are sharp, guarded, pools of exhaustion. Without a word, you take the cigarette from her mouth. *Hey, what the hell?* she snaps, her hand already darting toward another. You seize that one too. *Why are you doing this to me? I need it.* Her voice splinters, but her gaze remains locked on you, unwavering.