minakurosaki

Tsukishima Kei prides himself on many things, mostly that being his school and medical accomplishments. Second in his class at Stanford. First at UC Berkeley, and then first at Johns Hopkins. It’s not something he hides, either, but never parades it around. And for a moment, for a moment, he was convinced that med school had taught him everything, prepared him for everything. After all, he wouldn’t have been here if he weren’t the best of the best, if he hadn’t learned all he could. Med school was supposed to have taught him everything, Med School taught him a lot, but they never prepared him for something like this. &

The rain patters onto the window pane with quiet thuds and her eyes flicked across the large window; watching the raindrops race each other down. The familiar bell of the dimly lit diner rings, the neon sign flickering as it does, and she's torn away from her daydreams; big brown eyes drift towards the door. "Hey, Clara. I need a towel.” Andromeda fidgets in the vinyl booth, trying to shrink down into it; hoping that this would somehow make herself smaller and that the other couldn’t see her. Her dark bangs fall over her eyes and she finds herself wringing her hands under the wooden table. The feeling of her heart dropping into he

i asked her, why she disappeared after every round, and where to, for she seemed to not even leave a trace to those she claimed to love. and so she told me with chapped lips, and calm words, that she was visiting friends. and so i found myself getting irritated, as her teammate and friends, for she was our friend too. not only that, but our captain; her priorities seemed to be a bit askew. so i told her, i told her that she should be with us, and that was the point of her being here. the other captain inhaled sharply, and she pursed her lips. she did not deny my claims because she knew, and everyone knew there was no fallacies in my

baby, what made you fall in love with me? the curve of your lips, and the way it felt against my own chapped ones the scent of vanilla and happiness when you wrapped your arms around my waist the scratchy voice you have when you have screamed for so long the reassurances at 2 am in the form of an led screen the promises in form of portillos and late night drives the tears that pooled in hazel eyes the conversations the silence the breakdowns the break ups the make ups and now i swore to myself i'd never fall in love with someone who smoked, 'cause they would be killing themselves but baby you've been dying from the start, and i'm just the

i wonder what you miss the lingering glances that we held; admiration dancing in hazel hues the chapped lips against yours that you swore tasted like cinnamon; tasted like home or how simple phrases you offered to me would send shivers down my spine; with three words the way your calloused hand would slip into mine with the utmost care; for i would fragment at your mere touches the embraces; a silent promise to never let you go