❝love is almost never simple.❞
──dejan stojavonic

SKEETERSAURUS IS CALLING!

ANSWER | DECLINE

"Hey you."

"Hi. Are you busy
by any chance?"

"Not at all. Just
having some lunch.
Have you heard of it?
It's a meal that you
eat between breakfast
and dinner."

"I'm planning to
eat lunch, Keanu.
Don't worry."

"Attagirl! And yes──
I can practically see
you rolling your eyes
at me through the
phone, Skeeter."

"And I can
practically see
your smug grin."

"Well, you're
not wrong."

"Anyway. . .Keanu,
you're a person with
high morals, right?
As in you always
want to do the
right thing?"

"Uh. . .I
try to?"

"Okay. So, let's say
hypothetically you have
this friend who
works in a hospital."

"Uh-huh."

"And, she gets herself in
a situation where she has
a patient who's about to
give birth and her husband
arrives yet your hypothetical
friend recognizes the husband
from a previous patient
who gave birth a few days prior."

"Oh, that's
complex."

"What
should
she do?"

"Just to make
it clear. . .this
is all hypothetical?"

"Yep."

"Well, can't
your hypothetical
friend just tell
the two women?"

"She can't. My friend
took an oath. Specifically:
I will respect the privacy
of my patients, for their
problems are not disclosed
to me that the world
may know."

"Oh. . ."

"I know. It sucks."

"If she took an
oath──and an
oath is sacred──
then I guess she 
should sit this 
one out."

"Hm. . .okay. I'll
go tell her."

"I wish her
the best. Hey,
is tonight still
pushing through?"

"Yeah. . .I'll text
you my address."

"Okay. See you,
Skeeter. You
drive safe, okay?"

"Yes, sir!"

CALL ENDED!

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ────── ⊰

There's a boy in my kitchen and he's making me dinner. Well, technically he's not a boy──Keanu is a man who has somehow managed to talk me into letting him cook dinner for me which then led me to inviting him into my cramped apartment. Believe me when I say that I was against it at first. But somehow, all it took was for him pouting his lips and an offer of a home-cooked meal and I was a goner.

I don't like this feeling at all.

It's been five years since the whole fiasco yet these feelings are oh-so familiar. I know, I know. . .what kind of feelings were they?

Well, for starters, it's that smile that appears on my lips whenever I see his name blinking on my phone. It's the peace that I feel whenever we have phone calls late in the night discussing if ghosts were real. (THEY ARE!) It's the way my hands scramble to dial his number because I landed myself a really interesting surgery or I just had a really bad day.

Lastly, it's the tranquility in my mind whenever I think about him──just anything about him, really. It's as if Keanu doesn't expect me to always have it all together and to always have the answer. Maybe he does know──

"I've been thinking."

At the sound of his voice, Keanu observed her head perk up, close her journal, and look at him. He stood behind her stove and cleaned his hands with the dish towel. The cream color pages of Skeeter's journal reminded him of that crumpled piece of paper he found that one fateful day. 

"Uh-oh. That's never a good idea." Skeeter replied from the couch, "But, please do share."

"When you accidentally got the wrong luggage──"

"You're never going to let that go, are you?"

"──And you saw that it was me, why. . .why didn't you run to the press with the story?"

He had joined her on the couch by then, sitting on her side with their knees and shoulders almost touching. 

Skeeter shrugged. "I didn't want the whole world to think that I'm stupid."

Nodding, Keanu turned his attention to her laptop screen. "What's a Sushrata award?"

"Oh." Skeeter said and shut her laptop, "It's this medical award for an innovation in trauma surgery. The Sushrata Award in Trauma Surgery. It's my fifth time submitting a research and I just. . .I don't know." 

Keanu tipped his head to the side because of the change of tone in her voice──it become frustrating, self-deprecating, and even a hint of competitiveness. "You're scared you'll lose?" 

Rolling her eyes, Skeeter scoffed. "I'm not saying my research sucks but I just──I just think I'm way over my head, you know? I didn't even tell my family that I submitted my research because there's a chance I won't even get nominated. And──and, if I do get nominated, then I'll have to go to Switzerland and──oh god──what if I'll just lose and──"

"Okay, Skeeter, just slow down for second." Keanu had placed his hands on her shoulders as if to steady her and keep her thoughts from soaring way above the ground. "If you don't win, so what? There's always next year." 

Skeeter gave him a closed-mouth smile and shook her head. Looking away, she said quietly. "You don't understand." 

"Then help me understand, Skeeter." 

Unknown to the trauma surgeon, Keanu had inched closer to her. Looking down, he was met with piercing blue eyes and those gray clouds that seemed to have made a re-appearance. He felt Skeeter's breath hitch and his too──stunned by their close proximity. Timidly, he brought his hands to cup her face and his thumb brushed her cheek softly. Keanu tried to decipher the emotion in her eyes: wide and alert and anticipating the next movie. 

"Skeeter," He whispered as he held her delicate face in his calloused hands, "Je crois que j'ai des sentiments pour toi." 

Since he had lived in France for quite some time, Keanu had mastered the language. Why had he said that at this moment? Because it was the only way for him to get something off his chest without dealing with the repercussions since Skeeter didn't understand the language. 

"Keanu. . ." She said softly. "I think dinner is done." 

Sighing, he pulled away and started to plate their dinner that he had cooked. 

AUTHOR'S NOTE
aaahhHHHH
bonjour! keanu's
statement is
translated by -velvetanarchy !!
thank you very
much ily 💝💝💝