Medicbled - Saviour Complex *
More Posts from Medicbled and Others
one thing about gloria is that, she loves very intensely. it isn’t something fleeting that can be turned on an off like a faucet. yes, she can have a one night stand but it won’t mean a single thing to her…she won’t even get off. if she has feelings for someone and she isn’t sure they’d want her because they have not shown anywhere close to signs she would recognize, she won’t do a damn thing. but back to the point, they might not be able to handle the level of love she has to give. it’s consuming, it comes from the perspective of someone that leaves claw marks in things because she can’t hold onto things. people die, people fade and time is a luxury.
her hand doesn’t move. it stays there, over his chest, over the heat of a heart still BEATING, even if it feels like it’s barely holding on. her fingers curl a little, as though she could press through flesh and bone and cradle it in her palm with tenderness. ❛ what am i without my hypocrisy? ❜ her smile is world-weary, a life lived before she ever stepped foot into the emergency department. one she couldn't shake from her bones or broken soul. just the same, she couldn't shake off obligations, duty, her purpose in this world. ❛ i know we do, trust me on that — ❜ a pause to relinquish touch, if only to toy with the pocket of his hoodie. ❛ i'm just asking for a day. the details of which i will be forcing you to relax and in turn i will relax so it's mutually beneficial. ❜
tired eyes flick to the hand on his chest like it's an open wound. the warmth of it hurts and sears his skin, in the way that softness does when you're starving for it. he can't afford to vanish. too many people need him functioning, unflinching. to unravel is not an option, not even at the seams. “ have you ever thought about taking your own advice? ” he offers a small grin before shaking his head. “ people like us. we belong here. ” they couldn't walk away if they wanted to.
it comes from a place she'll never have for herself - CONCERN, sincerity cornering him with tenderness. ❛ take the phone off the hook and disappear for a while. ❜ there with a gentle palm against his chest, a smile that aches. ❛ it's alright, you can afford to lose a day or two. ❜
lyrical sc // @rbnvtch
❛ you can't let other peoples opinions get in the way of what you want especially because other people suck. ❜
holt & diaz quote starters // @jennifershepard
🌶️ SC // @washsins ( russell shaw )
she didn’t think. she couldn’t think. by the time she had crossed the threshold past his door, gloria’s hands were shaking. not from fear, not from the cold, but from something hungrier, meaner. something she couldn’t scrape out of her chest, no matter how hard she tried. it had been gnawing at her for days, weeks maybe. that hollow, bone-deep need that curled under her skin and made her feel too tight, too human, too breakable. heart hammering against her ribs, adrenaline stabbing at the base of her skull the way it used to before firefights.
only this was worse; this was personal.
gloria doesn't give russell a second to breathe or contemplate the brokenness she carried in. she was already on him, grabbing the collar of his shirt and dragging him down to meet her mouth. it was desperate, waking up the part of her soul that had been warped into something caustic and fractured. her teeth caught on his lip, fingers yanking at the fabric over his chest like she could tear her need out by force if she just clawed hard enough. she needed someone real. someone solid, someone that could pin her down when the world spun out and she couldn’t catch her breath. ❛ please. ❜ gloria heard herself say it like a disembodied entity haunting the room. a hoarse whisper, nearly unrecognizable. she hated the sound of it, the crack in her own voice, but she needed him more than she needed pride right now.
her hand lingers on his chest longer than it should. like she’s not sure whether she’s holding him BACK or holding him UP. the heat beneath her palm is blistering, not from his rage, no...she’s felt that before, watched it shatter men like glass. it's something older, deeper — that relentless ache between them that never stops, only roots and blooms stronger than the last time. there's nothing made of coldness in her eyes, they never are with him and maybe that's part of why she's letting it all CRUSH her. they’re tired, though. tired in that bone-deep way that comes from years of standing just outside the life she maybe could’ve had by some shift of luck. but that's not made for people like her, rewards for unforgivable deeds. ❛ no... fuck, i don't know! ❜
and there it is. that band hitting the dim lighting just enough to coax every bit of guilt eating her from the inside out to the surface. gloria stares, choking down penance and letting the barbed wire cut into her throat. the worst part was that it never stopped her. not once. she pulls her hand back, cradling it like a third-degree burn against her chest. a step back, but it doesn't matter how far she goes, he'll always HAUNT her and she'll always let him. ❛ i don't know what to do, you're not mine. ❜ the fight in her voice is gone, and what's left is so much worse. a quiet devastation, worn thin at the edges. trembled in dewy honey eyes, her arms thrown up with a defeat she can't escape. she could imagine it as some surge of fading adrenaline, from de-escalating impending dread. from the even more fucked up part of her that wanted frank to pummel that handsy fuck into the dirt. but it's so much more than that. ❛ i don't do it to hurt you. ❜ almost a plea, entirely mournful. ❛ i have to remind myself that there's a world outside of you, frank, cause if i don't, i'll keep drowning in you. ❜
anger doesn't just simmer inside him, it boils over — violent, clawing at his chest like something alive. one minute he's nursing a drink with the squad, laughter buzzing around him. the next, he spots the brunette locked in some stranger's orbit, their bodies too close. he watches the guy's hand slide from her arm to the curve of her waist, and something in him snaps. now, he’s the center of gravity — surrounded by too many eyes, all waiting for the kind of show that starts with a punch and ends with smears of blood on the asphalt. it doesn't come to that, thanks to gloria.
palm pressed to his chest, he tears his gaze from the man walking away and leans back against the wall, shaking his head like it might clear the heat rising in his throat. the words are there, coiled tight, but they won’t come out — not when she’s looking at him like that, not with the weight of the ring on his finger. “ what do you mean i can't? what the hell do you want me to do, gloria? you want me to sit back and smile while he has his hands all over you?. ” right now, he wishes the other guy would've swung at him. it would've given him a reason to let the poison out, to crack his knuckles on his skull and stake his claim on her, somehow. “ why do you always gotta do that shit in front of me. ” the anger’s still there, but it’s dulled now — muted by something heavier. that quiet, bitter frustration he saves for himself. the kind he’s been carrying too long, the kind that keeps him up at night with the thought of her.
i don't like t.swift so it makes it so much worse that she has two songs that are very gloria. i hate it here.
