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Was it cruelty, or was it a gift from the universe to allow Birdie enough consciousness for Lixin to reach her? To feel his warmth around her one last time? There was no stopping the blood seeping through her body, painting the world red. More seconds, she idly wondered how many she had left. There was a calmness that came with dying. So much was going on around them, yet Birdie felt like they were sitting in the eye of a hurricane. As she looked up at him, a light behind blue eyes, like life was fighting to hang on, she managed bring a hand to cover his bloodied one. "It'll be okay. Promise," she whispered with the last bit of strength she could muster before the light behind her eyes faded too.
Birdie had never been religious, but she had also never quite subscribed to the idea that a life ended completely with death. How could it? Life was so beautiful. So full of wonder. A soul didn't move through life, every day seeing the beauty in the small things simply to be cut off and rid from existence. Birdie, who bought herself yellow daisies from the markets. Who somehow burnt her toast more often than not. Who loved to take walks in summer rain showers, who couldn't walk past a bakery without getting a strawberry donut. Birdie who had lost someone close to her, and instead of turning to anger dedicated her life to helping others. A girl who had fallen in love with the quiet doctor and begun dreaming of a future, one where together they would decorate their living room with yellow daisies.
It felt impossible to her that a life so lived could suddenly become nothing but blackness. How could such warmth become nothing? Where was all that love to go? Maybe that was the comfort all along, as she stared down that gun. As her heart broke for Lixin, for her mum and dad who by now would be finding out they've lost another child. For her friends, for little Johnny who would pull through the other end of his illness but be left with the trauma of what happened in that room that day. As her heart broke, there was the comfort that something was coming next. Another chapter. She would see her brother again.
Birdie Baker may have died that day, a victim to a man whose entire world had shattered, but she would never truly be gone. Not as long as her family celebrated her birthdays in the years to come, or as long as her friends shared memories, or as long as the markets kept selling her favourite flowers. Not as long as she was loved by the man who she'd loved so dearly.
No, she wasn't gone. One day, somewhere, they would meet again.
finished.
Was there anything more cruel than a brief glimmer of hope and happiness before the inevitable arrived? Lixin stood there, incapable of changing the future or the past, and watched as Birdie stared back at him. The tiniest of smiles on her face, one that he knew was just for him. One final parting gift before his own vision became a reality. Before he was proven to be right, and once more he wished he had never been given this type of burden in the first place. To be able to see the end of someone’s life was not some beautiful power that Lixin had to treat well. It was the kind of curse that he wouldn’t wish upon anyone, not when moments like this were possible—when he was standing toe to toe with his own failings.
The gunshot went off, guards seemingly appeared out of the blue, like they too were frozen in time, halted by death’s own armies. Told to sit and wait, to allow this tragedy to occur, if only to keep balance. And he hated them for it. He hated them for their timing, and himself for being unable to move, and the man for holding, then squeezing the trigger in the first place. There had never been much room in Lixin’s heart for that kind of anger, and while he knew Birdie would have thought less of him for it, that didn’t stop the feeling from happening all the same. It was the same thing that propelled him forward, whether it was desire to help the woman he loved, or the training he had faced on the way to becoming a doctor. Either way, before he could even register the sudden movement, his hands were putting pressure on her wound. Blood funneling between his fingers. His normally pristine white coat now stained with the reminder that none of them could outrun fate.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled into Birdie’s hair, now propping her up against his shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” Every word cost him something. Like they were being wrenched horribly from his throat, somewhere between a sob and a scream. The kind of words one might expect from the man who just lost all purpose and focus in the world. Who just had the entire earth tilt and shake, who was attempting to navigate an unfamiliar place that he wasn’t sure he cared about anymore. Even the boy behind Birdie, he couldn’t even spare a glance towards him. All kindness in Lixin turned poisonous.
As a doctor, there were many important lessons he learned in medical school. The first was to always do no harm. To follow that code to the letter. Lixin was here to save and heal, and do his best at both when nothing else could actually be done. The second was knowing when someone was beyond saving. When hearts stopped beating. When too much blood was lost. When the brain lost functioning, and all of that beautiful miracle of a human body stopped feeding oxygen into the most important systems.
He knew where the bullet had ripped through Birdie’s body. Where the veins lay underneath, and how quickly the blood could flow out. He knew that seconds mattered, and in this instance, those seconds never stood a chance. Birdie never stood a chance. What he was holding was flesh, and bone, and the skin of a person that was already turning cold. The visions couldn’t have prepared him for that. It couldn’t have told him about the horrible violence of seeing someone’s life drain out of their eyes, lost in whatever world came after. Of feeling the warmth that Birdie gave to others bled dry across the cold hospital tiles.
She was gone, and he was to blame. The story always began and ended the same. Lixin was a snake eating his own tail, and the blood on his hands proved it.
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For someone so surrounded by death, Birdie was never one to dwell on it. The loss of a loved one, a broken family suddenly smaller than it should’ve been. Patients so sick that nothing could be done except help make their last days comfortable. Yet never had she thought what it would be like to die, when her time would come. Even with her own time spent in hospitals, with her asthma. She was too focused on living. Not losing herself to the darkness of the island she called home.
But now she was face to face with it, and it felt like everything had come to a standstill. It felt like she’d stuffed cotton wool in her ear, the alarm and commotion from the rest of the hospital like muffled background noise. It was as if her body was two steps ahead of her brain, weirdly calm as she stood there, face to face with the gun of a man who could not be reasoned with.
The grief of losing a child was hard. She'd seen it first hand with her own parents, parents who currently were going about their day with no idea that within moments they would once again be a family of two, that a vicious cycle of grief was about to start again. Or maybe they'd be able to feel it, the loss.
Because Birdie knew there was no other course of action here. Even with little Johnny stuck to his bed and whimpering behind her, there was no talking the man with the gun out of it. Because just like her parents, and just like parents in that hospital every day, his world had been ripped from him. In his eyes, Birdie was to blame. He couldn't know the amount of time she'd spent with his son, checking his vitals, making him laugh. Nor could he know how his death had affected her.
She didn't realise she was crying until she felt the tear drop from her chin and land on her arm. This moment felt like everything was moving in slow motion, like the world had stopped and she simply could walk away and everything would stay the same around her. But really, it was only seconds. One, two, three, between the man raising his gun and the bullet hitting her. Seconds, that Lixin suddenly appeared behind the man, that she met his gaze. Seconds, not long enough to wonder how he was there but enough time for the smallest of smiles to automatically cross her face at the sight of him, and the pain to blossom from inside her at the thought of him after all this, even before bullet pierced her chest.
But the man was no professional. There were many people on the island who could end a life in seconds with their bare hands. This man was not one of those people. She remembered what he was lie before. Gentle and kind, always laughing when she told a terrible joke. Now he was a heartbroken father, acting out of a pain that had stewed into rage, with a gun he'd purchased in a shady deal a few days before in an attempt to heal, or maybe an attempt to end it all. Before then he'd never held a gun, let alone shot at someone with it. All over the hospital were people who he believed failed them, failed his son, now bleeding out from their wounds. Shots that, if he had a more accurate aim, would be fatal. Yet most would survive, as Birdie wavered from the impact, only a beat passing before she dropped to the ground. The guards who took the man down were seconds too late.
It felt like she was drowning.
Lixin had never experienced drowning before. Growing up in Wailing Waters, swimming was one of the first activities he learned how to do. From an early age, he had been a strong swimmer. Legs kicking, arms reaching out and grabbing the water to propel himself forward. As he ran to the pediatrics ward, he could feel his lungs rushing with water. His brain going in and out of consciousness as if he were ten feet below the surface, and not just gliding across the too slippery floor of a hospital. His breathing was erratic, his eyes crazed, like maybe in all of this he had become the lunatic with the fun. The madman intent on causing chaos and destruction.
In reality, he was simply a death seer. A fortune teller of the worst kind. Months ago, the vision had appeared during one of the worst moments of his life, and now he had the distinct honor of watching it play out in front of him. He knew the room to go to. He knew what he would find there. The gun. The man. Birdie, doing her best at being brave, protecting a child to the very end. Lixin was going to be sick, but the adrenaline pushed him forward, moving him that much more quickly in the direction of his only chance at stepping in front of the train that was fate. He’d gladly stand toe to toe with death now. Lixin would raise his fists in the air, or maybe he would simply do the most insane thought possible—take the bullet instead. There were no rules here. No laws of nature that he cared about pissing off.
And then he skidded to a halt. The door wide open, and a few nurses hiding in nearby areas gesturing at him to get down. To step away from the danger and save himself. Didn’t they know that there was no going back for him now? That for all of his time, he had considered himself like something of Birdie’s keeper. Someone that could keep her safe despite the danger that lay before them. In all of his hubris, he never once believed that he would fail in this final task. But as he stepped behind his destiny, Birdie standing in the room, her eyes full of emotions he still couldn’t discern, he began to wonder why he hadn’t just carried a gun on his person all this time.
Maybe then he could have fought back. Maybe then he wouldn’t just be a specter of the worst film he had ever seen in his life. Because it was playing on with or without him. The pieces were in motion. The clock was ticking. Time had finally run out, and all Lixin could do was stare into the eyes of the woman he loved, and watch as Death took what it came for.
He had been told as a child to respect the decisions of Death. To understand it as a kind of entity that they simply communed with. A part of their culture, and history. They were, in many ways, stewards of Death. The kind of people that could sense it more than anyone else, and as a result, were a part of it, too. Today, Lixin felt no such connection, just the empty, cavernous loss that was threatening to blow him open, even without a gun pointed at him.
“Birdie—” A stretched out hand, and hope that was pulled taut, ready to snap.
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Despite herself, Birdie flinched, head whipping towards the door. Her unease only lead to more from the child se considered one of her favourite patients. He started asking what was going on, what was the bang, why were people screaming, did someone have a gun, were they safe? It was too much for Birdie to answer, especially as she didn’t know the answer. Were they safe?
It’s going to be okay, she reassured. Now she had to remember her training. Close the blinds, she squeezed Johnny’s arm before getting up to do just that. They always preached hiding, if you could, but where could they go? The only other room attached was the small bathroom, but Johnny was currently hooked up and it would take time, and risk. Another bang. The risk, Birdie decided, was something she’d have to take. The IV she could carry, she just needed to secure the door.
It was as if that thought triggered it. The universe telling her she was a fraction too late for a party she didn’t know was being held in her honour. The door burst open, and standing in front of her was a familiar face, surprising but instantly filling her with dread.
The face was that of a broken man. You could tell he had cracked and whatever he was doing now, with the gun in his hand and the wicked smile on his face as he registered Birdie, would glue those cracks back together. Because it had been only a few months before that Birdie had been consoling that man and his wife on this very ward. Only a few months ago that the death of their son had broken her, lead to her crying in the supply cupboard during a shift, to telling Lixin the story of her brother. Standing in front of her was a man who had lost everything and, raising his gun once again to point at Birdie, thought this was the only way he could feel something different than that pain.
Fear was a noose. A knife between the ribs. The seeds of doubt being sowed in a person's mind as every horrible thought surfaced. Lixin was drowning. He was screaming. The world was spinning too quickly for him to even stand. But he did anyway. Without a second thought, he began to run. Not away from the bullets, but toward the sound, already knowing, in that horrible part of his mind, exactly where he'd find Birdie. What a terrifying thought to put into action. That when he finally would come to a pause in his movements, the inevitable would play out in front of him without there being anything he could possibly do about it. Merely background noise for the larger story at hand.
Everyone else was running, too. There was panic. Pandemonium. Nurses trying to tend to terrified patients, others doing their best to employ the techniques they'd been taught in case this happened. The police had been called. Security guards at the hospital were doing their best to follow the noises, too. They weren't defenseless. They couldn't imagine the tragedy that might unfold, because to a point, they were resigned to it.
Lixin was, too, but for an entirely different reason. Because he had seen it time and time again, replaying the worst loop a person could ever hope to have in their own head. The death of the woman they loved. The raising of the gun. The look in her eyes, and the way in which he knew he would always, always be too late in trying to save her.
Still he moved, flying through the hallways with shouts behind him. Were they warning him away? Cheering him on? Did they see someone brave in a white coat with a stethoscope jingling out of a pocket? They shouldn't have, but there was no time to pause and correct their assumptions. He couldn't very well stop in the middle of his sprint and explain that he had seen a vision, and it was about to come true.
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The gun shot felt so loud that it rang through her, chilling her down to her bones. They'd been trained for this, well, loosely told what. todo in an emergency, but Birdie was currently in a room with a little boy who was strapped up to wires that she couldn't remove without hurting him, who couldn't easily run for cover unless she grabbed a wheelchair for him. And there was no chance she was going to leave him. Besides, whatever was going on out there had nothing to do with her, she told herself, a weak attempt at convincing herself it was okay. They wouldn't hurt Johnny, and they wouldn't hurt her.
She would die before she let him see any of that fear though, moving over to the hospital bed and perching on the side of his bed. A smile was on her face, trying to be convincing as she reassured him it was okay. Someone just dropped something. He wasn't stupid though. Kids could pick up on these things, the undercurrent that ran through the hospital. "Why don't you tell me about those drea --" she started, cut off by another bang, louder this time. Whatever was going on, it was in their ward.
The screaming wasn't necessarily a surprise. Living in a city like this one had most people used to that kind of noise, with devastation being more of a normality than some kind of shock to the system. Most people were numb to the violence that happened around them. The senseless death. The criminals who ran rampant. Lixin might have expended more energy toward all of that if he wasn't trying to save people's live, and keep his family afloat.
But the gun shot, and it was a gun shot, how couldn't it have not been? That was what made him pause. What made his stomach contort, his intestines writhe, and his mind start to explode with the worst kind of feeling possible. Deja vu. He had heard that sound before in this building. The echoing of similar screams from another scared person. In his mind he had replayed those moments over and over and over again. But another voice countered the fear. Telling him that anything could happen at any point, and one gun shot didn't equate to the worst case scenario.
If he believed it, his body certainly didn't. Lixin was tensed up as he saw nurses beginning to run. Whether it was to or away from the shots, he couldn't quite tell, his own hearing feeling like it was distorted. Like the world was shifting and he was doing his best to level off in this new kind of gravity. The only thing that was running through his mind was one name.
Birdie.
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For Birdie, she heard the alarm first, but she ignored it, just like she always did. They were a hospital in the middle of a dangerous city. The alarm went off all the time, people in emergency with knives, someone trying to steal drugs. But after a moment it was like she could feel the difference. There was an energy to the air, the sounds of people rushing, frantic. It felt closer to them, tucked away in paediatrics they rarely felt the need for an alarm.
With a reassuring smile to Johnny, she moved over to the door way and poked her head out to investigate. She wasn't sure what she saw. There was confusion, yes, many staff like herself in the middle of their checks. But there was fear too. Obvious in the way people moved.
She heard a voice from behind her, turning to her patient with comforting smile and closing the door behind her. "It's okay," she reassured, although the uncertainty of it all set her on edge -- not knowing what was going on. "Nothing to do with us." But then she too, heard the faint screams, followed by an impossible to miss bang.
The wound on Olivia's head was healing nicely, the stitching he had performed was close, and he relayed the information that she shouldn't have much of a scar left behind. Especially if she stayed out of the sun for a few weeks, and lathered plenty of sunscreen to the area of the wound. Some people made the mistake of doing otherwise, and they looked more like a sea worn captain than a manager of a bank.
"I'm going to let you get some rest, and your nurse will be with you here shortly to get more of the specifics squared away. If you have any questions, feel free to ask, and its been a pleasure being a part of your recovery." That was one of the major perks of being a doctor. He was more of an absent father than anything else. He didn't always need the best people skills.
Lixin smiled at Olivia, and then walked swiftly from the room, checking the charts to see which room came next. Each shift was like this. A rotation of doors he walked in and out of. Nurses that brought their concerns. Patients who didn't want the prescribed treatments. He loved it all. There was a pattern to how hospitals flowed. Things that Lixin was always able to predict, even with his senses being dulled.
And then he heard the screams.
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Birdie listened attentively as she moved around Johnny's bed, making the regular checKs she made every morning. Vitals, heart rate, his IV. All this boys normal, as he rattled on excitedly about the dream he had last night, and how he couldn't wait to draw it all and show her, barely even phased as she cleaned around where the IV entered his arm.
"You know what, I cannot wait to see them." They played this game multiple times a week, Birdie acting surprised at the drawings that came her way. Anything to add a bit of joy to the children's lives, she thought.
Olivia nodded, Lixin seeing the excitement in her eyes that he was sure the pain medication was helping along, too. "I live in an apartment, so I have access to an elevator. Everything else is on one floor." Lixin smiled in response, showing his doctorly bedside manners that he had been practicing as much as he could manage. Be encouraging. Be kind. Be positive.
"Excellent. Your at-home PT will be given a full list of notes, along with recommendations from your orthopedic surgeon. He'll like want specific exercises done fairly regularly." Lixin wasn't a surgeon, he was just making sure that a trauma patient was going home in good hands. That the rest of her health was taken care of, too.
He stepped closer, clipboard still in hand. "You came in with a head laceration. I know we ruled out a concussion, but I'd like to double check how the healing of that is going, if I might?" Lixin put a hand toward the bandage along her right temple. "The stitches for that can probably come out in about a week."
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The little boy lit up as Birdie entered his room, the status of favourite certainly going both ways. It was patients like Johnny that made it all worth it, that solidified everything about her why. That she could make him so happy when he was sicker than any child should be meant she was doing right. Doing what she was meant to be doing. It was the fact that even though she was here to set up his drip, he wasn't scared, he was excited, comfortable enough in her presence to be more focused on the promise of something fun than the routine of his medicine.
"It's chocolate pudding day in the cafeteria." It was so small, wasn't it? And that was the sad part, if you dwelled on it too much. That something like chocolate pudding was the one of the only points of excitement in this child's life. Pudding, trips out in the hospital garden in his wheelchair. Yet you wouldn't know it, not when he clapped his hands together with glee.
Lixin had a headache, and this was the worst times he could have one. His shift at the hospital had just start, and the need for another hit of ethereum was starting to grab him by the throat. These last few months hadn’t given him any trouble at all in that department, but he felt the squeeze. The knowing that in just a few short hours he’d be left writhing and shaking on the floor from the lack of the substance. Did anyone else know how much he took every day? Did he even know himself?
He looked both ways before shoving himself into a closet, hands digging in his pockets for a few capsules he kept tucked away from anyone else’s prying eyes. As soon as they hit the back of his throat, the headache was gone, his mind was clear, and no voices seemed like they might burst from his ears at any moment. Lixin let out a deep, contented sigh, feeling, for the first time since he woke up that morning, that today might actually be a good day. Three back to backs was never what anyone wanted, but there wasn’t much of a choice in a city with a dwindling supply of medical personnel. There wasn’t much money in it, not when being a criminal was far more lucrative. His ethereum dealer would attest to that.
Shoving the door open he straightened himself up and went to his first patient of the day. Luckily, this wasn’t emergency, and he could go about a relatively leisurely pace unless alarms started ringing. And fuck if the alarms weren’t always seeming to ring in this place. How had he gotten used to it all? Likely just exposure to the elements. It was here, in the hospital, where Lixin felt the most at home. Every time he knocked on a patient’s door, gave them what he hoped was a good smile, and read through their charts, he felt purposeful. Today he had Olivia Caste. Thirty-eight. She had come in with two broken legs, a need for major surgery, and far more physical therapy than anyone could ever want.
“How are we feeling today, Olivia? Your stats look good, your physical therapist has been giving me good updates on how you’re proceeding.” This was always the hardest part. The persistence someone had to have after an accident. To keep pushing despite the pain. “We’d really like to get you home as soon as possible, and maybe have PT come visit you there so we can get a better idea of what your needs will be.”
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When: 15th July 2023
Where: St. Asclepius
Who: @lixinzhou
It was a work day like any other. In fact, it was one of the rare days that her and Lixin had the exact same shift. They had quickly become her favourites, as sappy as that was. But she had begun to treasure the way they could wake up together, the simplicity of getting ready for work, of sharing their commute, then meeting together when the day was done. To some working with their partner would've been hell, but their jobs were so intrinsic to who they were, both separately and together, that it just worked.
It was days like today, that weren't too hot even in the middle of summer, where the sun shone through the hospital windows and turned the drab walls (as much as they tried to decorate them for the kids) a sparkling sort of yellow, that were even better. To those having a bad day at work, she would be insufferable, but Birdie didn't care. She was happy.
It was with a singsong voice as she rounded the corner into her favourite patients room. Not that she outwardly admitted favouritism, but the boy, Johnny, reminded her so much of her little brother, and had been in and out of the hospital so often he felt like he was there as much as some of the nurses. Not to mention he was the most hilarious ten year old she'd ever met. "You'll never guess what day it is."
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walledupward:
“It doesn’t matter, ‘m not leaving the car, so may as well get to your job.” Tristan leaned forward, his fist hitting the back of the driver’s chair to catch his attention. “Take her where she needs to go first and she’ll give you a massive tip. Thanks, mate.” He looked over at Birdie as the car began to move.
.
Birdie had been fine with just paying, if only to hurry this interaction along and get herself to work. That was until he went and hit the drivers seat for no reason at all. It was one thing to accidentally get into the wrong Uber, but then to be an absolute dick about it when someone was letting you stay. As the car started moving, she fished her phone out of her pocket and opened the app, handing it over to him. “Pop your number in. We can split.”
~~~ fin ~~~
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walledupward:
Tristan gave her a look. He wanted to ask if he looked like he was headed towards the hospital given that he definitely didn’t look injured nor did he look like he was dressed to start working there either. He refrained, though. “You’re much more relaxed when you’re breaking into an ice cream shop,” he grunted to her.
.
That stopped Birdie, confusion painting her features for a moment before, “Ohhh,” realisation set in. It was enough to distract her from the fact she was running late, for about five seconds. “Well, that was after a shift when all I wanted was icecream and a shitty movie on my sofa. Today I’m getting later and later the longer we sit here so -- are you going that side of the city or not?” She would probably look back on this conversation and regret her shortness later, but she also knew that little Kenny was due his medicine soon and he was incredibly fussy about who gave it to him. Besides, she was offering to let this semi-stranger share her uber.
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walledupward:
Of course, Tristan had gotten Ubers before, though admittedly, he wasn’t the sort of person who took them often, if he could help it. They were typically outside of his budget, but he’d recently gotten a decent pay bump and wasn’t feeling like spending a huge amount of time on a lengthy commute.
“Yeah, s’there not a carpool option or something?” Tristan said as he now pulled out his phone. Cracked screen. Old model. Although he had an iPhone, it still had a button on it. He knew nowadays most phones were all screen. He began to navigate through it, squinting to see past the cracks.
.
“There is, but I didn’t --” she paused and let out a breath. “Look, I’m running late to work. If you’re heading towards the hospital you’re welcome to just come with me if you want.” After all, she had an inkling that otherwise they would just be sitting here going in circles, making her later and later.
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lixinzhou:
He took a deep breath, her words cutting him straight to the bone, leaving no prisoners. I’ll be okay. They were a lie. A complete falsehood and fabrication. Today she’d live, he could feel it in his head, the one he addled consistently with ethereum to keep the dark thoughts at bay. But one day, and one day soon, she wouldn’t be able to speak that thought at all. She’d be gone, and all he’d have left to remember her by was the lies he continued to speak straight to her face. The ones of assurances and care, like he hadn’t seen her death.
“Promise,” he replied back, wondering what it might take to wipe the slate clean.
the end
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walledupward:
Tristan rolled his eyes. “Yes, because ‘m going to believe you without asking any questions. Because as it so happens ‘ve only just arrived here and was born yesterday, as well.” He probably could have just said that he wasn’t naive or that she ought to provide more than just words to back up her blame, but it wouldn’t be Tristan if he didn’t inject some semblance of sarcasm.
.
If Birdie was a ruder person, she would’ve let her thoughts out. That yes, she wouldn’t be surprised if he was only born yesterday given how he was acting. Instead, she went for the only slightly nicer, “Have you never gotten an uber before? There’s number plates. And names.” She glanced at the drivers phone, confirming it was her car before gesturing. “See.”
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lixinzhou:
“If you want to go in, then you need to call in for another prescription for your inhaler. You can’t go walking around like this, no matter how badly you want to be there for your patient. Imagine if you have another episode while you’re there?” Fear spiked through him, the kind that he wished he could will away. Close his eyes hard enough and make disappear. Nothing worked like that. And he couldn’t control Birdie, either. Despite how badly he wished he could. Maybe then she’d be safe.
.
Birdie nodded, relieved that she wouldn’t have to convince him that she needed to be at work. “We can stop by the chemist on our way,” Birdie wasn’t worried. This was her life, it always had been and always would be. Her supervisor knew about her asthma, that she needed to take it easier sometimes. But she had to be there. She couldn’t blame Lixin for worrying. After all, she’d seen her fair share of asthma attacks in her patients, it was terrifying, especially if you didn’t know, even more so if it was someone you cared about. She squeezed his hand lightly, looking over her shoulder to give Lixin a small smile. “I’ll be okay. Promise.”
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walledupward:
Tristan didn’t typically take Ubers. It was usually because it was well outside his budget and he just would rather take public transportation around the city, but today was one of those days where he had preferred to simply not bother. Besides, he was visiting his father across the city and this just happened to be the easiest way.
He had just settled in, when he was startled to hear someone else’s voice on and looked over. “Taking a ride. What the fuck are you doing?” he asked back, feeling the answer should have been obvious.
.
Birdie frowned at him -- a real, comical frown. “Going to work.” She looked to the driver again and then back to the stranger, although he looked familiar. “This is my Uber.” She didn’t want to be rude, but -- god, she was running so late.
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