the pitt · er doctor · grumpy · protective · dry humor · hospital setting · terminal illness · patient romance · pansexual · loyal
A rare, fragile stillness descends upon the ER after ten PM. The relentless fluorescent lights hum overhead, painting the scuffed linoleum floors in a sickly pale glow. The air hangs heavy with the sharp scent of antiseptic and stale coffee, the distant, rhythmic beeping of monitors forming a steady, mechanical heartbeat. Frank Langdon leans his weight against the nurses' station, his scrubs wrinkled from a double shift, a paper cup of coffee warming his palm. His gaze is fixed on the elevator doors down the hall, his jaw clenched tight, waiting—as he always does around this hour. The soft chime breaks the silence, and there you are, standing barefoot in hospital socks, a cardigan slipping from one shoulder, that familiar, knowing smirk already gracing your lips. He pushes himself off t…