"I'm on my knees in a puddle of coffee, and he's lying on the couch playing with himself, you know?"

"He was doing. . .that? In front of you?"

"No, not in the good way."

Meredith slips her curled stethoscope into a pocket. "But he's recovering from surgery. And you've read the studies on recovery and depression in surgical patients."

"Yeah, well, he's not a patient. He's Preston Burke. He's just milking it." She snatches the granola bar out of my hand. "Now he's got me fetching his food and the paper and his slippers like I'm a dog."

"Cristina Yang fetches for no one." I taunt while pressing the button to the elevator. "At least you're not being pressured into. . .here we go."

Derek steps out of the next open elevator, still wearing his regular clothes but holding a tray of two coffees with a brown paper bag.

"Leven, hi." He beams brightly at the sight of me. "I just brought you some coffee because. . .well, they were having a two-for-one deal."

"Uh-huh."

"And I thought of you."

"Okay."

"Iced chai latte? With a slice of coffee cake?"

My lips curve in a small, apologetic smile. "I don't have an answer for you yet. Sorry, Derek."

"Hey. You take all the time you need." He passes me the cup and bag before walking away. "I'll see you in a bit."

"Are you guys secretly dating?"

"What?"

I pull the two of them into the elevator and wait for the doors to shut. Once they do, I pull the red trigger to shut off the elevator.

Cristina's tongue clicks against her teeth. "How come I never thought about doing that?"

"The day after the prom, he came to visit me at Meredith's house."

"You guys had sex."

"Would you let me tell the story?"

". . .sorry."

With a quick trip down memory lane from a week and a half ago, I explain the dilemma I have in my hands: do I or do I not date him?

"Guys don't pour their hearts out like that, you know." Meredith slumps against the wall in the corner. "I would kill to have someone do that to me."

The tips of my nails tap against the metal rail. "You mean put you in an awkward situation where you don't know if you should greet him or run away from him? Because it's so fun."

"Better than watching your depressed boyfriend play with balls all day."

". . .don't ever say that in front of me again."

Downstairs at the nurse's station, Alex, Cristina, George, Meredith, and I inhale the giant slice of coffee cake Derek brought.

"Morning, people."

With mouths full of cake, the five of us turn around to face our mentor.

She gives us our assignments for the day: Meredith writes discharge forms, Yang works with Derek, Alex reports to Addison, George is requested by Torres, and I. . .am on scut.

"Scut. She has me doing scut work."

"Because you should be resting from your injury."

"And figuring out what you're going to say to McDreamy."

"I don't think a scratch justifies absence from work." I squint my eyes at the two before walking out of the hospital.

In the same position as this morning, Izzie stares up at the building, her arms crossed over her chest and words of self-encouragement leaving her parted mouth.

"Hey, Izzie." Meredith's the first to greet her. "You done with the chief?"

"Not yet." She replies.

"Are you alright?" Teeth sink into my bottom lip in concern.

Izzie nods. "I'm fine. What are you guys doing?"

"Lev's regretting transferring to Seattle, Mer's figuring out how to break it off with McVet, and I'm trying to get Burke out of the bell jar."

"Accurate depiction of us, honestly."

"I've got a lunch date with Finn."

"And I've got lunch with. . .myself."

Upstairs in the cafeteria, Meredith and Finn enjoy a fun date at the table across from George, Alex, and Cristina — who enjoy mocking the couple.

But with one miniscule action, their attention draws to me.

Derek invites himself to my table and sits across from me, a cup of coffee in his hands and a gratified grin on his face.

I barely look up from my copy of These Violent Delights.

"You, me, and a corpus callosotomy."

"Kissing up to me isn't going to help you in any case."

"Who said anything about kissing you?"

"I. . ." My head shakes in disbelief, and I finally set aside my book. "Don't make me regret considering your offer."

"So you're considering?"

"What do you think I've been doing for the past week and a half?"

He reaches a hand to the book and reads the front cover for himself. "These Violent Delights. What is it about?"

"It's a retelling of Romeo and Juliet." I grab it back from him. "But I think it's much more. . .prevalent."

"Do you want to scrub in?"

"I'm on scut. Sorry."

Meredith and I sit up in the gallery of the O.R., a clear view of Cristina and Derek working on the patient.

"You said no to scrubbing in to watch him cut a man's brain in half?"

"He was only inviting me so I'd make my decision sooner."

"But you said no?"

"Yes, I said no, Mer."

Her head rests against the edge of my lap, flipping through a medical journal. I go to check the time on my watch but sigh in remembrance.

"Meredith, did you —"

"I checked the dress at least ten times. There wasn't a wristwatch."

"It's the last thing I had of my mother." My fingers graze the empty space. "God, I barely even remember her, and I shouldn't even want to."

"She left when you were five, right?" Her voice grows soft in sympathy. "Guess we have that and dying parents in common."

"God, I wish I could make up my mind."

"What's stopping you from saying yes?" Her head tilts back to look at me. "It's clear you want to be with him as much as he wants to be with you."

"I'm scared."

"Of what?"

"Of what happens next."

That night, I walk Scar at the nearby trail with my dad. He and I sit at a bench while taking turns throwing a ball for him to catch.

"Derek's still visiting you, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is." He props his elbows behind him. "To be honest, though, I prefer your presence over his any day."

"Dad, I have to tell you something."

"Go on, then, Levie."

"I. . ." My throat constricts. "Derek said he loves me."

"And you love him back." He assumes.

An exasperated sigh leaves my lips. "Everyone keeps saying that to me." Few tears escape my eyes. "And most of me believes I love him, too."

"But?"

"With all of the problems I have — mentally and physically — he's going to leave me."

"How do you know?"

For the first time since our conversation began, I stay silent.

"How would you know if you won't give him a chance?"