#ethan ramsey × mc

[lsvdw-blog]

Now & Always: Part 3

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x f!MC

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings; Rating: Angst galore; Teen+

Premise: The continued aftermath of the break-up.

Author’s Note: Today marks one YEAR of writing fics here on Tumblr - how time flies! I have truly loved being a part of this fandom, interacting with other writers and readers, and making new friends. The support and love I have been shown here has forever touched my heart and I hope to carry and spread this kindness forward. From the bottom of my heart, I love and appreciate every single one of you and am immensely grateful for everything. I have SO much love for all of you 💕💕💕 I hope you enjoy and thank you for sticking around and reading 💖

Ethan holds open the door for Serena as they enter South Street Diner, stepping into a 1950’s atmosphere. They’re greeted cheerily by the staff and Sol, the owner, waits for them at the counter. 

“The usual?”

Serena smiles meekly, preparing to ask for her usual “post-getting-plastered-at-Donahue’s” order, but Ethan beats her to it.

“She’ll have the Boston Crème Pancakes with chicken fingers and a chocolate Frappe with ice cream. I’ll have the smoked salmon eggs benedict.” 

“You got it, Chief.”

Serena stares at Ethan in awe as he hands Sol his black Amex. 

“You remembered.”

Ethan turns to face Serena. 

“The last time I drank this much at Donahue’s and ordered this exact meal was years ago. How did you—”

“If it has anything remotely to do with you, I remember.” 

The fire and devotion shining through Ethan’s eyes in that moment sends a shiver down Serena’s spine. 

Ethan physically can’t look away as he immediately shrugs off his charcoal gray wool jacket and drapes it around her, rubbing her upper arms gently to provide some extra warmth. 

“Better?” 

The touch of Ethan’s hands and being engulfed in her favorite scent once more after nearly two months makes Serena lightheaded. She nods, mouth too dry to verbalize anything.

“Why don't you grab our booth and I’ll meet you there when our food is ready, hm?” Ethan murmurs, hands still stroking her arms.

“Yeah, okay,” Serena utters. She hazily walks to the back of the restaurant, Ethan’s eyes following her every movement. 

Halfway there, Serena cranes her head backwards to look at Ethan, locking eyes. She’s unsure how to interpret what she finds churning in those cobalt blues, so she tightens the oversized jacket around herself and drops her gaze, continuing to her destination.

~~~~~~

Ethan sets their food on the table and slides in opposite Serena. He removes her order from the tray, placing it in front of her. 

Serena cuts into her pancakes and takes a big bite. “Ohmygosh.” Her proclamation comes out muffled, but she’s too busy enjoying the flavor hitting her tastebuds to care. 

She proceeds to inhale half a chicken finger and slurp on her frappe, mouth as full as a chipmunk’s. 

Ethan relaxes slightly, back hitting the booth. A relieved sigh, coupled with a half-smile, escapes his nostrils. While Serena’s eyes are glued to her food, Ethan’s are drinking in the sight of the contented woman before him. 

It's only after she realizes the chewing sounds are solely coming from her that Serena pauses. She lifts her head, looking at Ethan like a deer in headlights. 

"Why aren't you eating?" She asks, mouth full. 

"I've missed this." 

Serena snorts. 

"I'm serious. I love how excited you get about food. It's endearing." 

Serena takes a swig of her frappe to wash down her mouthful. 

"You love to eat too." 

“This is true.”

"So?" Serena waves at his untouched plate. "Eat!" 

Ethan still can't tear his eyes away from her, grateful beyond measure that he's sharing the same space as her again.

"Tsk." 

Serena reaches over with her utensils, cutting into the eggs benedict. She pierces a bite with her fork and brings it to Ethan's mouth. 

"Eat," she urges.

Ethan's eyes drop down to the fork before him for a split second. The intimate nature of her action is lost on Serena until Ethan's eyes look back up and bore into hers with passion and intensity. 

One large hand comes to hold her dainty one as he takes the bite, eyes never wavering.  

Serena swallows heavily and drops her hand, looking anywhere but at him. She returns to eating her meal and Ethan picks up his own utensils, stealing glances at her between every bite. 

They dine in an awkward silence for a few minutes before Ethan clears his throat and looks up.  

“I really am sorry.” 

Serena doesn’t respond, the only inkling that she heard him is her brief pause in cutting her pancakes. 

“There are absolutely no excuses for my behavior.”

“You’re right; there are none.”

She doesn’t say more after that and Ethan takes this as a sign to continue.  

“I am utterly ashamed and incredibly remorseful for how I have acted and treated you the past few months. In my own inability to process my grief, I failed to recognize how this affected you; that you lost a parent too.”

“Instead of shutting you out, we could have leaned on each other. For nearly three decades, I have kept my emotions locked away and that has served me well enough. It has staved off any possibility of me being hurt again, even by my own father. You’re aware that I never understood, or quite frankly, forgave, dad for continuing to adore Louise, and that was a point of conflict between us. However, due in no small part to your support, dad and I had begun to better understand each other and grow closer in the past few years.”

Serena slowly puts down her utensils.

“Besides you, it was the only other time I have felt safe enough to let my guard down, safe enough to breathe. I was very much looking forward to continuing on that trajectory with my father and I thought I had decades left. Decades where he’d get to experience all of the things he always worried I wouldn’t shift on: standing next to me at the altar at our wedding and gaining a daughter, witnessing me becoming a father and him becoming a grandpa that spoils our children rotten, and watching me maneuver into administration and becoming Chief.” 

Serena is gazing at Ethan intently, hands clasped in front of her. Ethan swallows over the lump forming in his throat before persisting. 

“Not only did I lose the man who raised me, but all of these things I had accepted that dad would get to experience with us, and all of the images I had conjured up, were ripped away from me in a matter of hours. And I—”

Ethan is cut off by his own exhausted sigh, his eyes heavy from unshed tears. 

This is the most Ethan has opened up about Alan’s death since the funeral, giving Serena a glimpse into his thoughts, finally answering the plea she made months ago. 

“I felt so betrayed by the universe and was so resentful, yet felt so lost at the same time. I hadn’t felt like this since I was eleven, when Louise left, so I dealt with this situation the same way I did then; I didn’t know how to handle it, so instead, I shut down. But even then, it wasn’t this painful.” 

Ethan’s usually confident and commanding baritone comes out small, vulnerable. Serena’s features have fully softened now, her heart aching for the man before her. 

“In my anguish, I lashed out at you and took you for granted, which you did not deserve.”

“Not only did I not deserve that, I deserve better.” 

At the last part of Serena’s declaration, the color drains from Ethan’s face. He agrees with her, wholeheartedly, but he is terrified that her definition of “better” doesn’t include giving him another chance.

Serena’s face remains impassive, giving nothing away as she studies him under an icy stare that causes Ethan to fidget. 

“There’s an African proverb: ‘The axe forgets, but the tree remembers.’ Do you even know how many times you've hurt me? Because I d—" 

“Our very first interaction, I dismissed you and your capabilities. The way I handled what happened in Miami and the aftermath of it. Kissing you, but then pulling back at the Opera. Asserting that we would figure it out after Naveen placed you on the Diagnostics team, but running to the Amazon instead. Freezing you out while I was in the Amazon. My poor excuse of ‘needing a reset’ to dismiss my absence. Not going after you that night at Donahue’s. Not going up for a nightcap after dinner with the Governor. Delaying the talk about us that I had promised you after the softball game. All of this during what seemed like I was stringing you along because I was too much of a coward to face my feelings for you. Every little thing these past few months, our last fight.”

"I know there are more instances, I know there are; we’ll be here till sunrise if I list them all out, but I do remember. I remember all of it, every single case."

Serena is stunned into silence. She knew Ethan remembered the monumental events, but she wasn’t expecting him to remember so many others, let alone list them out in chronological order. 

“You are unequivocally correct: you deserve better. I want to be that ‘better’ and I can only hope that your definition of ‘better’ includes giving me another chance.” 

Serena isn’t sure what to say next, so she just stares at him with wide eyes. What comes out of Ethan’s mouth next catches her even more off guard. 

“Do you still love me?”

#ethan x mc #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #open heart #choices open heart #ethan ramsey open heart #open heart fanfiction #open heart choices #playchoices #dr ethan ramsey #dr. ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey fic #ethan ramsey fanfiction #ethan fic #ethan ramsey × mc

[liaromancewriter]

As much as Cassie enjoys hiding with Ethan in the supply closet, this option is so much fun.

Practice but he also really enjoys it. Look at the smirk. 😂

#ethan ramsey × mc #ethan ramsey #oph replay

[jamespotterthefirst]

OMG THERE IS A BARBIE PICREW MAKER

PLEASE MAKE YOUR MCS/OCS AND REBLOG THIS WITH THEM I WANT TO SEE THEM ALL 🩷

#ethan ramsey #open heart #ethan x mc #playchoices #crimes of passion #The royal romance #wake the dead #Barbie

[jerzwriter]

A Novel Concept

Ethan Ramsey is in the dog house. It's apparently clear, and his buddy, Tobias, comes in with an assist. But will his advice help or hurt Ethan's chances of getting back in Kaycee's good graces?

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Kaycee MacClennan (F!MC) Characters: Tobias Carrick Rating: Teen Words: 1,778

A/N: Thank you, Nonny, for this ask from the @choicesaprilchallenge24 prompt “A picnic?! Have you swallowed a romance novel?”" It went a little longer than a drabble, I hope you don't mind! (Didn't have much time to edit... so hope it's all good!)

My Masterlist

The tension in the Diagnostic Team Office was almost palpable. So palpable that Harper retreated to her office nearly an hour before. But Tobias was braver than that – or just stupid; the jury was still out.

He remained behind, his eyes darting up from his laptop every time Ethan mumbled under his breath or Kaycee let out an exaggerated sigh. Both of them assumed Tobias was doing research on their recently admitted patient, blissfully unaware of the missive he was typing, all about professionalism in the workplace and why it’s ill-advised to date your colleagues. He’d shoot that to them in an e-mail once he was sure they were in better moods. But the truth was, Tobias Carrick was nosy and was not about to leave before he got the tea. And there had to be tea!

Tobias was in on the secret, but to most, Ethan and Kaycee were the worst-kept secret in Edenbrook. On a typical day, they were all heart eyes and butterflies, but today, they barely acknowledged each other during their morning meeting, and that hadn’t changed since its end. Even Kaycee incessantly tapping her pen against the conference table hadn’t earned any commentary from the stone-faced Dr. Ramsey. Not a single sarcastic comment, endearing remark, or complaint fell from his lips.

Kaycee was the one to finally break the standoff. Standing up with a huff, she pointedly looked at Tobias and announced she was going to make her rounds. With a side-eyed glance at Ethan, she slunk out the door without another word. Tobias waited patiently for his friend to open up... but that never occurred. If the man retained water as much as he did his emotions, he’d be their next patient, not to mention a sideshow act: Edenbrook’s human blowfish! Tobias laughed at the image in his mind, finally requiring his friend to acknowledge his presence.

“Care to share what’s so amusing?” He said after clearing his throat. “Did you finally figure out the knock-knock joke Dr. Lewis told at the conference two weeks ago, or are you imagining what your latest conquest’s reaction will be when she figures out how old you really are?”

Tobias pushed back from the table with a raised brow, “Really? Do you want to go there, Ramsey? Because according to my calculations, Kaycee is about three years younger than my latest... has she figured it out yet?”

Mouth agape, Ethan was eager to change the course of the conversation. “So... what were you laughing at.”

“I was imagining you as a human blowfish.”

“You know what... remind me to never ask you what’s on your mind again. It’s too dark and scary in there.”

“As if you could resist!” Tobias laughed. “But I want to know what’s on your mind. What’s with you and my buddy MacKlennan? You could cut the tension in here with a knife this morning.”

“Nothing is going on,” Ethan said, offering no genuine attempt at being convincing.

“You’re a shitty liar, Ramsey. What did you do?”

Ethan finally looked up from his notebook. “Why do you automatically assume I’m the one to blame?”

“Because you usually are,” Tobias smirked. “Now, what’s going on?”

Ethan took off his glasses, placing them on the table with a sigh as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Kaycee is mad at me because I forgot our six-month anniversary.”

“Man,” Tobias chuckled, “You suck.”

“That’s not the worst part. See, I didn’t forget. But it happened to coincide with me coming off my second double in three days. I was so tired. I truly thought it was still a day away.”

“But that’s understandable, and Kaycee is reasonable. Why would she be so upset with you over that?”

“Probably because I followed up with ‘who celebrates six-month anniversaries anyway? High school students and people who are certain they’ll never hit the year mark.”  

“Really?” Tobias glared. “All these years, and still none of my charm and charisma has rubbed off on you? What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t!” Ethan protested. “I was exhausted and cranky.”

“YOU?” Tobias teased.

“I’ve apologized a half-dozen times, but she still barely speaks to me.”

“Well, in fairness, she’s worked a lot this week, too. I doubt either of you are your best selves right now.”

“Thank you, Mother Oprah. Now, do you have any wisdom to help me repair this situation?”

“As a matter of fact, I do, wiseass... but keep talking like that, and you can add me to the list of people barely speaking to you.”

“All right,” Ethan surrendered. “I’ll be nice...how do I fix this?”

“A sincere apology, not the half-assed shit I’m sure you’ve mustered so far... and then you’re going to have to go all out to celebrate your anniversary.”

“I’ve already made reservations at Mistral. I just don’t think she’ll want to join me at this point.”

Tobias waved a dismissive hand. “Anyone can make reservations at Mistral. You need to do something better than that,” he snapped his fingers as an idea came to mind. “A picnic! Show up at her place with a picnic basket filled with her favorite treats, then take her to a pretty, secluded spot... for a small fee, I can share some of my favorite places... you may even have to pick wildflowers for her, buddy.”

“A picnic?” Ethan sneered. “Have you swallowed a romance novel?”

“Fine!” Tobias said, shutting his laptop and rising to his feet. “If you don’t want my advice, figure it out on your own.”

“Wait, wait...” Ethan softened. “I’m sorry, did I mention the sleep deprivation?”

“You did... but face it, we all know you’re still an ass when fully rested.”

“A picnic?” Ethan asked, ignoring him. “Do you really think she’d like that?”

“Chicks, dig that shit,” Tobias insisted, pulling a pen from his lab coat to jot some notes. “Here... these are some very romantic spots within driving distance, and the name of a little gourmet deli in Cambridge that will make a great lunch and pair it with the perfect wine... I can write some of my go-to lines when I need to get out of the dog house if you like?”

“No... no... I’m good. If I’m honest, I don’t think you’ve had a relationship that lasted more than three months in the past decade, so I may need a different approach.”

“Yeah, but that’s not because they didn’t want them to last longer... I think you’re missing out.”

The sound of footsteps approaching caused the men’s heads to turn toward the door, where they saw Kaycee coming down the hall.

“Shh!” Tobias ordered. “She’s back! Here’s your chance.... turn on the charm, bro. I know you’ve got it in you.”

Oblivious to Tobias, Kaycee walked up to Ethan with a look of contrition. “Ethan, we have to talk.”

“No,” he said, reaching for her hand. “I have to talk. I am so sorry for being a jerk. It’s not an excuse, but I’ve been tired and more of a curmudgeon than usual. But of course our six-month anniversary is something to be celebrated. I hope you know how much each day I’m with you means to me, and I hope you’ll let me make it up to you.”

Kaycee let out a breath, and her lips twisted into a tender smile. “I mean, I kind of like the fact that you’re a curmudgeon... just not when it’s aimed directly at me.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, brushing a tendril away from her face. “If you’ll forgive me, I will make it up to you.”

“Oh, will you?” she simpered. “What do you have in mind?”

“Well,” Ethan glanced at silent Tobias, who gave him the thumbs up. “I know this quiet little spot on Spectacle Island. I thought we could go there for a picnic. I’ll get your favorite wine, some baguettes, a nice brie... chocolates for after. Maybe we can pick some flowers before, you know...”

“Really?” she asked, “That’s what you want to do? A picnic?”

“Why? Don’t you like the idea?”

“I do,” Kaycee insisted. “It’s just... it doesn’t sound like you. Did you swallow a romance novel or something?”

Ethan's eyes shoot to Tobias, who bursted into laughter.

“Tobias?” Kaycee said, finally noticing he was in the room.  

“I’m sorry! I’m leaving,” he grinned. “But you two need to work whatever you’ve got going on, and do it now... because, I swear,  you two... you’re perfect for each other.

Ethan smiled proudly and wrapped an arm around Kaycee’s shoulder as Tobias slunk out of the room. “He’s right, you know... we are.”

“He is,” she blushed. “But be honest... the picnic... that was his idea, not yours. Right?”

“What? Don’t you think I’m capable of planning a romantic date for you?”

“Of course you are! And you have, but did you come up with this idea?”

Ethan leaned back against his desk with a sigh, pulling Kaycee against him. “How did you know?”

“Hon, do you have any idea how many people he’s brought to Spectacle Island? The stories in the hospital are legendary.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously! Nurses...doctors... the new PT assistant in pediatrics.... the communications director....”

“All right,” Ethan laughed. “I get it... so that means we won’t be making a spectacle of ourselves on Spectacle Island?”

“Well, it’s not that I’m opposed – but we can do it our way, not Tobias’s.”

“Then what do you say we go with the evening I had planned for us?”

“Oh?” She asked curiosity piqued. “And what did you have in mind?”

“I was thinking we could get all dressed up,” he said, placing a kiss behind her ear.

“Mmm... go on.”

“Dinner at Mistral?” he offered, brushing her hair away from her neck as his lips traced her newly exposed skin. “Maybe a little dancing after... so I can show you off?”

“Mmmhh,” she sighed. “And then?”

“Then we go back to my place... and we get to  take off all those fancy clothes...”

Kaycee pulled back with a playful smile. “To do what, exactly, Dr. Ramsey?”

“Things that will make you forget you were ever mad at me?” he winked.

“Now... how can I resist that. When will you be picking me up?”

“Saturday? Six o’clock?”

“It’s a date,” she beamed. “And Ethan?”

“Yes?”

“You’re pretty good at this romance thing all on your own.”

“Shhh,” he whispered in her ear. “Don’t let that get out. I have a reputation to uphold.”

“I get it,” she said, stepping away and straightening her clothes. She was at the door when she turned with a smile. “We can’t have anyone thinking you swallowed a romance novel.”

~~~~~

@choicesficwriterscreations @choicesaprilchallenge24 @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

#choices fanfic #open heart #open heart fanfic #chocies open heart #open heart choices #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x f!mc #tobias carrick #playchoices fanfic #choices stories you play #choices #playchoices

[potionsprefect]

Adjusting

Pairings: Ethan Ramsey x Victoria Clarke

Word Count: 1k

Summary: Victoria is back at work, and not everything is the same

Rating: Teen

Category: Angst, Fluff

Victoria sat down in the cafeteria, a whole pizza in front of her. Today was her first day back at work since the Senator attack. She knew she would have to come back eventually but it didn’t seem real that she was finally back, sat in her white coat, helping those who desperately needed it.

She was desperately avoiding the corridor where her room was. She knew all she would see would be herself in that room, terrified of whether she was going to die. The team had a patient in there but Victoria hadn’t met them yet.

Slowly, Victoria ate her lunch. She had opted to go early to avoid the queues but she really avoiding doing as much work with the patient as possible. Instead, she stayed in the teams room, helping devise a treatment plan. It was unlike Victoria to hide away and she knew she was being unprofessional.

A figure sat down in front of her, a handsome but concerned look on his face. “You’re in here early.” Ethan said.

“I wanted to beat the lunchtime queue.” Victoria shrugged.

“So it’s nothing to do with you wanting to avoid the patients room?” Ethan folded his arms, an eyebrow raised.

Victoria sighed. “Am I that obvious?”

“Yes. And I don’t need to tell you that it is also unprofessional. But we’re letting you figure it out on your own. You know you can’t avoid that room forever.” Ethan said.

“I know I just… I can’t go back in there. All I see is myself, struggling to fight for life.”

“Maybe you’ve come back too soon.”

Victoria sighed. “It’s not down to me. Blame the system.”

“You know to take it one step at a time. But I’m saying this as your boss and not as your boyfriend. I would like to see you visit at least once before the end of your shift. And I’m saying this as your boyfriend. I’ll come with you if you want.” Ethan reached across the table and took Victorias hand in his.

“I think this is something I need to do myself. But thank you for the offer.” Victoria smiled. “I will probably come back to the office as quickly as possible.”

“Then I’ll be in the office waiting for you with a hug.” Ethan smiled.

Victoria ate the rest of her pizza, quiet in the presence of Ethan. She knew this would be one of the biggest parts of her recovery to date and the longer she put it off, the harder it would be further down the line.

Today would be the day she faced it. The day she proved to herself how strong she really is.

Victoria took several deep breaths as the elevator doors opened. She was thankful that she was in the lift alone for which she could deal with her emotions by herself and not have to embarrass herself in front of anyone else.

The only sound that could be heard was Victoria’s shoes as she walked slowly down the empty corridor. Victoria loved it like this, an empty corridor where she could consider her thoughts was always better than a crowded one.

She cast her mind back to that day, all she could see from her room was the frantic faces of her colleagues who were rushing about trying desperately to find a cure.

We’re running out of time. What if they don’t make it?

The voices were loud and frantic, panic evident in their voices. Victoria wanted desperately to smash her way through the glass and break free.

Victoria approached the window and saw the patient gazing out the window. Victoria smiled softly at the patient. It seemed surreal to think of the horrors this room saw not that long ago.

With a gentle push, Victoria opened the room door. “Mrs Winston? I’m Doctor Clarke. How are you feeling?”

“Oh much better thank you. I don’t believe we’ve met. Are you one of the doctors working alongside the team?” Mrs Winston smiled.

“I am. I’ve been helping draw up some treatment plans for you. I apologise for not coming to visit you sooner.” Victoria replied.

“I understand dear. I remember reading on the news about the awful events that happened here. I’m glad you’re alive.” She smiled.

“Thank you. And I have no doubt that the team and I will help find out what’s wrong with you soon.” Victoria smiled.

After a while, Victoria left the room, heading back to the diagnostics teams office. She felt lighter on her feet, happier even. She had done it and now it was over, she could look forward even further.

Victoria reached the office and opened the door. Ethan was sat at his desk, paperwork in front of him.

“How did it go?” Ethan stood up and walked over to Victoria.

“Better than I hoped. It wasn’t easy but it’s done now.” Victoria said.

Ethan took her face in his hands. “I am so proud of you. He pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.

Victoria pulled away after a few seconds, resting her forehead against his, eyes closed. “This isn’t easy.”

“It was never going to be. Recovery is slow and sometimes painful.” Ethan pulled her to his chest, running a gentle hand through Victoria’s hair.

“I just don’t like living in uncertainty. I want to know what’s happening and I want to know when. But I know that can’t happen and I should just accept whatever comes my way.” Victoria said.

“You don’t need to rush anything further. It can all go at your own pace.” Ethan smiled.

“What if I’m like this for a long time? What if you don’t want to put up with that?” Victoria asked.

“I will endure anything for you. And I don’t care how long it takes. Your health is number one priority and no matter how long your recovery is, I will be by your side throughout.”

“You’re a really good man you know that?”

Ethan laughed. “So I’ve been told. By all the right people.”

Victoria always knew that coming back to work was never going to be easy. But she knew that as long as she has the right people by her side, she could face anything.

And she had exactly that with Ethan. Her fiercest and most loyal protector.

I made it sad and then I made it happy lol

Tag list: @ohchoices @swiftiexstarwarssimp @queencarb @genevievemd @choicesaddict5 @schnitzelbutterfingers @gryffindordaughterofathena @sophxwithers @romewritingshop @coffeeheartaddict2 @mm2305 @nikki-2406 @maurine07 @nishas-paradise @replayfootsteps @mainstreetreader @lsvdw-blog @kiara-36 @quixoticdreamer16 @headoverheelsforramsey @shanzay44 @itsjustamesshonestly @josiesopenheart @mysticalgalaxysstuff @custaroonie @ireneadlerisseggsy @takemyopenheart @kachrisberry @rookiemartin @jamespotterthefirst @a-crepusculo @natureblooms24 @jerzwriter @wanderingamongthewildflowers @rosebudde @lucy-268 @liaromancewriter @bex-la-get @writer-ish @toadfrog26 @tessa-liam @peonierose @cariantha @kyra75 @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan ramsey x victoria clarke #ethan x victoria #playchoices #fanfic #open heart fanfic #open heart fanfiction #choices: open heart #angst #fluff #choices fic writers creations #fics of the week

[cariantha]

Talk is Cheap (2/2)

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks) Rating: General Warning: Mentions of pregnancy Category: AU; Angst (with a happy ending) Word count: 2.7K Prompt: What would have been the outcome if Sawyer had discovered that she was pregnant whilst Ethan was in the Amazon? A/N: The theme song for this fic is “Go Get Her” by Restless Road.

Part One

It took Sawyer two days and ten chewed up fingernails to work up the courage to call. And it took three unanswered calls to realize that her heart wasn’t done breaking. 

“Ethan, it’s Sawyer. Please call me as soon as you get this message. I really need to talk to you.”

Ethan listened to the message several times. There were only two possible reasons for her call: something was wrong, or she wanted to talk about them. The only clue he had, her shaky and hesitant voice, was not enough to go on. Worried that weeks of strategic silence and self-inflicted loneliness would be for nothing, he determined that the safest course of action was to call his mentor. Speaking to Naveen would rule out several of the “something wrong” scenarios that were racing through his anxious mind. 

Ring, ring. “Hello, Ethan. It has been a while,” Naveen answered. The two hadn’t spoken since the video call that ended with Sawyer darting away from his office in tears.

“Naveen. How are you? How have you been feeling?”

“I’m fine, son.” 

“Did you have your check-up with Baz this month?”

“I did. My labs were normal.”

“Good… that’s good… uh, how’s the team?”

“They are managing quite well, and June is taking full advantage of her time at the helm,” Naveen chuckled.

“I don’t doubt it. And the interns? Have they killed anyone while I’ve been away?”

“The interns?” Ethan’s attempt at small talk was already suspicious, but asking about the interns was a dead giveaway. “Or one in particular?” Naveen pressed. 

Giving up his pretense, Ethan confessed, “She left me a vague message. I was concerned that something had happened. That one of you might be sick or hurt.”

“I think it’s safe to say she’s hurt, Ethan,” Naveen challenged. 

“You know that’s not what I meant. Is she okay? Has there been any more backlash from the trial? Has Nash been harassing her?”

An exasperated Naveen sighed, “I don’t know the reason for her call, Ethan. And even if I did, I would tell you to speak with her yourself. Tell me, how are you planning to work together if you’re not on speaking terms?”

“Our relationship will return to that of a strictly professional one. Working together on your case, sharing that secret… the lines got blurred and I let things go too far. It was the result of heightened stress and frequent exposure to-”

“Bullshit,” Naveen interjected.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. We both know if that’s all it was, you wouldn’t have bothered to call me. You wouldn’t care this much. Now, swallow your pride like that over-priced whiskey you drink and call her.”

<><><><><><><><><><>

The following day, Sawyer stood outside of Naveen’s office. “Hi Danielle, any chance the chief has some free time in the next day or two?”

“Let me check his schedule, Dr. Brooks,” the assistant answered, clicking her computer mouse.

“Sawyer? Is that you out there?” Naveen called from inside his office. “Come on in.”

Sawyer offered a thankful smile to Danielle and then stepped into Naveen’s office, closing the door behind her. “Thanks for giving me a few minutes.”

“I can always spare a few for my grand-mentee.” He gestured to one of the seats in front of his desk. “What’s on your mind, dear?”

Sawyer took a grounding breath, then proceeded. “A lot actually. I, uh…” She paused, nervously biting her bottom lip. Then as if ripping off a Band-Aid, she came right out with it. “What is the policy for taking a leave of absence? And if I did, how would that impact my fellowship?”

Naveen pursed his lips, mentally diagnosing the situation. “Well, that depends on the type of leave being requested.”

Sawyer hung her head for a moment, and when she looked up, her eyes were glassy. “Maternity leave.” 

He followed her eyes when they shifted to a picture displayed on the hutch behind him, confirming his suspicion. Naveen hoped that Ethan had taken his advice last night. With a sympathetic air, he leaned forward and folded his hands. "Does he know?"

She shook her head and bit her lips, trying to prevent the spill of tears. “He hasn’t returned my calls," she finally managed.

“I’m so sorry, dear. Is there anything you need? Anything I can do for you?”

Sawyer reached for a tissue. “I just need to know what my options are.”

He nodded.

“And if it comes to it… the process for transferring my residency.”

He couldn’t help the frown on his face. “Of course.” A short while later, with a hug and another offer of support, Naveen said goodbye to Sawyer. 

"Danielle, would you mind letting Dr. Cyrus know that I am running a few minutes behind?" Closing his door for privacy, he retrieved his phone from the pocket of his white lab coat.

Later that night, in his tiny studio apartment in Atalaya, Peru, Ethan sat on the edge of the bed and scrolled through his phone contacts. He stared at Sawyer’s profile picture for a long while, gathering the strength to stay firm in his resolve, while also preparing for the worst. If she was sick, he would call in every favor he was owed. If she was moving on with someone new, he would hate it, but wouldn’t interfere with her happiness. If she was quitting… leaving… he would break. 

With his thumb hovering over the call button, he was startled when the phone pinged. Tapping on the notification, he read the incoming lines of text and quickly realized that he had not anticipated this scenario.

In her bedroom in her Boston apartment, Sawyer paced back and forth. The word “Read” appeared after the last line of her text message and she anxiously chewed on her thumbnail waiting for any kind of response. Preferably a call, but she would settle for three bouncing dots and a few lines of text. A half hour later, accepting the silence as his response, she powered off her phone and tossed it aside. Curling up in her bed, she cried herself to sleep.

In those same thirty minutes, Ethan stared at the sonogram picture and choked back tears. His knee bounced up and down nervously, carefully considering what to say and do to make things right. When he finally pushed the green call button, he immediately heard her voice on the other end of the line. “Hi there, you’ve reached Sawyer. Leave me a message.” He redialed several more times, but each time it went straight to voicemail. “Dammit!”

Ethan stood and raked his fingers through his hair in frustration. He spun around taking in his humble surroundings, considering his current obligations. “To hell with it.” After calling for a ride, he tossed his phone on the bed and began shoving his belongings into his open suitcase.

An hour later, from the backseat of a taxi, Ethan made another call. “Dr. Stehl, it’s Ethan Ramsey. I’m sorry to do this, but something has come up back home in Boston. A family emergency. I’m on my way to the airport now…”

After twenty-four hours of cramped bus rides and connecting flights, and a quick stop at home to freshen up, Ethan stood outside of Sawyer’s apartment door. Taking a deep, calming breath first, he knocked.

Elijah greeted him a half minute later. “Dr. Ramsey? I didn’t know you were back.”

“Yes, just. Is Sawyer here?”

Elijah moved backward and gestured for him to enter, assuming that Sawyer was already expecting him. It wouldn’t have been the first time she entertained Dr. Ramsey in their apartment, after all. It would also explain why she passed on going to Donahue’s with the other roommates for “Ladies Night” half-priced drinks. “She’s in her room. You remember which one, right?”

Ethan nodded. “Thank you.”

���By the way, I like the beard,” Elijah remarked, closing the door. “Maybe I should try to grow one so my patients won’t think I’m fifteen anymore.” 

“Hmph,” Ethan huffed in amusement as he moved deeper into the quiet apartment. 

He inhaled and exhaled slowly before gently knocking on the last door at the end of the hall, the door to Sawyer’s room. Though light emanated from underneath the door, there was no answer. He knocked again, and when she still didn’t answer, he carefully turned the doorknob and peeked inside. 

Sawyer was fast asleep, hugging a pillow close to her body.

Quietly shutting the door behind him, he softly padded to the side of her bed and carefully sat on the edge. Her laptop lay open behind her. On the screen, an application for residency at the Mayo Clinic in Arizona, which made Ethan’s stomach sink.

Odds were she hated him at this point. Despite the risk, he reached out to touch her. Tenderly skimming his fingers along her hairline, he brushed a few loose strands out of the way. “Sawyer,” he quietly said her name. When he repeated it, she finally began to stir and then opened her eyes.

Shocked, she bolted upright and backed away, nearly knocking her laptop to the floor. “W-what are you doing here?” she asked, trying to get her bearings. 

“I came to talk. To apologize. To try to make things right.”

“Ethan, I–”

Sensing her distrust, “Please, give me a chance,” he implored. “I know I don’t deserve it, but will you please hear me out?” When she didn’t protest, he continued.

“I have been so selfish, Sawyer. When Naveen appointed you to the diagnostics team, I feared a scandal if people discovered we were together, especially with the ethics trial still fresh in people’s minds. I could never, in good conscience, put you in a position like that. You worked so hard and earned this fellowship. It’s a rare opportunity that I don’t want to get in the way of.” His eyes begged for understanding. “Please believe me when I say this… I want to be with you. So much so that I considered stepping down as team leader. Hell, I even considered resigning from the team altogether.” He ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath. “As much as I care for you, Sawyer, I couldn’t give it up. I have spent my entire career preparing to one day fill Naveen’s shoes. It’s all I’ve ever wanted, until you. But everything between us happened so fast. It was still so new-”

“Ethan, I would never expect you to make that kind of sacrifice. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you did,” Sawyer firmly cut in.

“I know, Rookie, and that’s why I told myself the only way forward was as colleagues, and nothing more.” He made a point of looking her in the eye. “But the problem is we’ve never just been colleagues, have we. There’s always been something more between us. I took advantage of the distance, hoping that if we cut ties for a while, the connection would fade and make it easier to leave what we had in the past.” 

Sawyer shook her head in frustration. 

“You don’t have to say it. I can probably guess what you’re thinking,” Ethan acknowledged.

“That you’re an idiot?” she quipped.

“Yes, and you’d be right to think so. I had convinced myself it was a solid plan. As long as we still worked together, I would still get to see and talk to my best friend without the constant worry of holding you back or jeopardizing your career.” Sawyer followed when he tipped his head to the laptop screen behind her. “Knowing how badly you wanted to be at Edenbrook, and how hard you fought for the fellowship, I hadn’t considered the possibility that you would leave. When you said you might move back to Arizona, I realized my plan backfired.” 

Ethan gave her a moment to process.

“Why didn’t you call or write me back after I told you about the baby?” she demanded an answer.

"I know this will be hard to believe, but I swear I was just about to call you when I got your text. You can blame me for a lot, but you can’t blame me for the sudden shock of learning that I was going to be a father. It took me a while to catch my breath and find my words. When I finally got my shit together, I tried calling. Several times. But I kept getting your voicemail.” Ethan absent-mindedly stretched his hand toward her. “Sawyer, we both know words without action are meaningless. You mean so much to me and-”

“You have a real shitty way of showing it,” she interjected.

"And I'm here now because I want to change that. You deserve better than a phone call, and certainly more than a text message. You, Rookie, have the unnerving ability to read me like an open book. I want you to be able to look into my eyes and see the truth in my words when I tell you how I feel."

Protectively clutching her pillow to her chest, she braced herself. “And how do you feel?”

“About you?” he paused, his eyes darting between hers. “I am hopelessly in love with you, Sawyer Brooks.” 

She swallowed, nervously anticipating his next words. 

“How do I feel about this baby?” He sighed softly. “I’ll be honest, I never pictured myself settling down or having a family. I’ve spent the last twenty-four hours on buses and planes alone with my thoughts, and they were consumed with the idea of becoming a father. For the first time in my life, Sawyer, I could picture it… a family of my own... but only because you were with me in that dream. And I’m worried that I’ve fucked it all up.”

Overcome with emotion, Sawyer hid her face with her hands and sobbed.

“Sawyer?” 

“Arrrrrgh,” she growled into her hands before lowering them. “I’m still furious with you… I’m not sure where we go from here… how to trust that you won’t walk away again.” She wiped her tears away. “But I guess we have a lot to figure out…” she said, her voice cracking, “because despite myself, I’m still in love with you, too.”

A wave of relief washed over Ethan. There was hope, even if the space between them made it feel like they were still on different continents.       

“How are you feeling?” he asked, looking her over.

“I’ve had a little morning sickness, but mostly I'm exhausted.” She opened her mouth to say more but stopped herself. 

“What is it?” 

Her bottom lip quivered when she continued. “I’m scared to death.” 

Ethan gently removed the pillow barrier and drew her near. “Come here.” He pressed a kiss to her temple and murmured, "It will be okay."

“You’ve said that before,” she mumbled into his chest.

He pulled back to look her in the eyes. “I’m sorry for letting you down before. I know that it will take time to earn back your trust. But I promise you, Sawyer, I’m here for you… for both of you. You can count on me,” he assured, his fingers twining with hers. “I will be the man... the partner… that you need me to be.”

They held onto each other in comforting silence for several minutes.

“I missed you, Asshole,” she whispered, then lifted her head to really look at him. 

Ethan smiled. “I missed you, too, Rookie. Every minute of every day that I was away.”

Sawyer ran her hand over his scruffy beard, then over the soft leather of his jacket. “We’ve got ourselves a brand new Ethan Ramsey,” she assessed.

“This jacket’s been through a lot with me.” 

“It suits you.”

Scratching his cheek, “And the beard?”

She studied him for a moment, then with the playful smile that he had missed so terribly, she teased, “You look like a dad.” 

Seven months later…

Ethan stared in awe at the carefully wrapped bundle his wife held in her arms. The newborn’s tiny hand wrapped around the tip of his finger. Without letting go, he carefully nestled next to his wife on the hospital bed. Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he leaned in and pressed an appreciative kiss to her temple. When he pulled back, she turned to him with a smile, soliciting another kiss but this time on her lips.  

“I love you. How are you feeling?” he asked.

Before she could respond, there was a gentle knock on the door. Two older men bearing flowers, balloons, and teddy bears quietly entered. While the silver-haired man exchanged cheek kisses with Sawyer, the dark-haired man in the sweater vest moved to the other side of the bed and placed a hand on Ethan’s shoulder.

“Dad. Naveen. Let me introduce you to your grandson,” Ethan announced. “Brooks Winter Ramsey.”

#open heart #open heart choices #open heart fanfic #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x mc #ethan x sawyer #choices stories you play #choices open heart #playchoices #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week

[the-pale-goddess]

Vices & Virtues - Ethan Ramsey x MC

Dr. Ramsey's weaknesses don’t disturb his everyday life often, but when they do, a certain intern happens to always be involved.

Book: Open Heart, Intern Year (between Chapters 5 & 6)

Warnings: language, my rusty writing, a truckload of pining

Rating/Category: Teen+ / fluffy angst

Author’s note: [insert the ‘surprise, bitch’ & 'it's been 84 years' reaction GIFs]

I’m eternally grateful for the very few angels still waiting for new E&T content—this one’s for you 🫶🏻 Hope you’ll find a moment to read my word vomit and enjoy the mess (aka my writing). I appreciate every comment and like more than words can convey!

Edenbrook is indigestible on Mondays. Though Ethan Ramsey doesn’t believe in whatever ‘curse’ humankind attributed to an absolutely random day, he cannot deny the madness that usually ensues upon the beginning of each week. An inexplicable air of post-weekend malaise does tend to envelop the globe, and Boston is no lucky exception.

“Mondays suck!”

Striding across the hustly-bustly pediatric ward, Doctor Ramsey overhears an agitated boy explicitly expressing his annoyance.

Ethan’s Monday has been a doozy of a day as well, but he’d rather keep his troubles six feet under, preferably in concrete. Nevertheless, a drop of sympathy implores him to stop near the patient’s room and watch the scene unfold at a safe distance.

The child blows a raspberry at the nurse preparing him for a corridor-long wheelchair ride, clearly upset about the surgery he’s being taken to.

A heavy sigh followed by the unmistakable giggle of a certain copper-haired radiologist interrupts Ethan’s first break during today’s demanding shift.

“It’s not Monday, kid. It’s just your life.” Doctor Herbert whispers into Ethan’s ear, a large cup of raspberry tea in her hand. “But at least it’s going to be all rainbows and candy again in three weeks.”

Meanwhile, the situation has escalated quickly: a river of tears streams down the young Monday-hater's cheeks now, his concerned mother shooting pleading looks between her shuddering offspring and the strict nurse trying to efficiently finish the task so she could move on with her hectic schedule.

A pang of dejection pierces Ethan all of a sudden when a long-forgotten fragment of the past he buried flashes through his mind. Before its splinters reopen old wounds, he swiftly pushes the unwanted memory back to the unexplored depths of his psyche.

“I don’t think he’s heard you.”

“Gee, Doctor Ramsey, share some of that cheerful attitude with the rest of us!” Liz nudges his side, almost spilling her hot beverage on his foot. She mouths an apology, but his unimpressed gaze falls elsewhere.

“You wouldn’t even know what to do with it.”

“Thank God your interns still haven’t caught that grumpiness you’re suffering from.”

“No need to worry, it’s not contagious.” He gives a dismissive wave of his hand, partially to announce his departure, then continues the journey to his primary destination: the harmonious sanctuary of his private office.

As soon as the elevator door closes behind Ethan, the confined space becomes his temporary resort. He takes a deep breath, rubbing his sunken, aweary eyes to relieve the tension—an aching remnant of the sleepless night. The exhaustion begins to mess with his senses, but it’s nothing out of the ordinary; permanent fatigue has been his steadfast companion for more than a decade of his career as a doctor.

There’s a crack in that orderly, borderline clinical life of his, as big as a closed fist, and he’s slowly beginning to realize its detrimental consequences.

But none of that matters now.

What matters is that his desperate efforts to bend Naveen’s stubbornness weren’t in vain; there’s still hope—a notion Ethan isn’t exactly on board with, but he puts his trust in science, and beyond any doubt science will point him in the right direction. As long as there’s time, he’ll do whatever it takes to save his mentor, his friend. He’s confident he can do it, he’s capable of diagnosing and curing whichever mysterious illness keeps Naveen captive.

He’s the only one who can do it.

A double shot of deep roasted espresso shall help this cause. Or, at the very least, make his Monday slightly more endurable.

Loud metallic thud followed by a streak of bright fluorescent lighting annunciates the arrival. Empty, windowless corridor welcomes his nostrils with the odious mixture of staleness and antiseptic, typical of the office wing on the sixth floor. He operates on autopilot, mindlessly trudging ahead, marginally consoled by the aura of eerie quietude. Blissfully oblivious to what the so-called Manic Monday has prepared for him next.

All his rational thought and peerless logic evaporate into thin air the second his drowsy gaze zooms in on the old waiting room under renovation currently withheld by the recent budget cuts. Within its hoary walls, a familiar sylphlike figure catches his eye, unwittingly staking her claim to his undivided attention.

Ethan’s dire need of coffee has vanished as well; he’s wide awake now.

Smiling to herself, a sense of pride evident in the alluring dimples carved into her cheeks, Doctor Addams arranges a stack of papers atop a massive couch protected by thin plastic sheet.

Ethan acknowledges that he must ignore the tempest raging inside his chest, but he’s unable to focus on anything else other than the energy she exudes, luring him in like a siren’s song.

This isn’t the first time the infamous Doctor Terminator is utterly powerless in the face of her—the most intriguing mystery he’s tempted to unravel for some godforsaken, unfathomable reason.

Everything he knows about Tiffany Addams has been collateral damage from their close proximity and the isolating nature of their work. Against better judgment, Ethan has stored every single crumb of information thrown at him, like it’s a treasure guarded in the vault of his mind, acquiring new pieces and adding them to this clandestine collection.

With certainty, there’s a new element behind that glass wall, ready to be studied in secret.

As though pulled by a magnet, his feet carry him towards the room while Ethan shuffles through a myriad of excuses plausible enough to start a conversation. A good excuse, however, requires an elaborate background story, supported by a carefully planned follow-up—both of which clearly out of his reach at the moment.

Fully aware of the possible disaster awaiting inside, Ethan steps into the room quietly, leaning against the doorframe with arms crossed over his chest. A sophisticated scent of sultry vanilla wrapped with notes of luminous lavender pervades the space, handily smothering the musty odor of the old hospital furniture stored here for at least a year.

Heedless of his presence, Tiffany remains locked in her own bubble. She’s seated on the couch, browsing through a large leather bag with a lot of noise.

Long onyx locks neatly tamed in a sleek bun reveal the exquisitely sculpted contour of her features, its sharp edges so far removed from the overpowering warmth hiding in her sparkling emeralds and tenacious kindness dripping from the corners of her full mouth.

That stark contrast surely must be a part of her allure, he reckons. Not that there’s any evidence at his disposal—he’s her boss, for fuck’s sake. But the set of cardinal rules applying to the situation doesn’t stop him from looking, nor does it dilute the poison seeping from that singular contaminated thought…

Loud, treacherous voice snarls inside his mind like a beast at the gates of his sanity.

This isn’t staring, this is a comprehensive risk assessment.

Regardless of the pretext, watching her feels almost perverse, but he’s too transfixed to listen to his voice of reason hopelessly trying to redirect him to the path of impeccable propriety.

He can’t look away. Can’t move either. She'll notice him…Eventually.

Is that all he’s become? A disappointment, a fraud. One of the best diagnosticians of the generation, the esteemed Dr. Ethan Ramsey is consistently failing to do his job. His own mind appalls him—once the most treasured asset, his pride and joy, now compromised, useless, struggling to cut through the veil of his inappropriate longing.

Perhaps instead of triggering a spiral of destruction, he should address a more pressing matter: why is there a splotch of purple paint on her cheek?

Better late than never, his focus switches from Tiffany to the negligible surroundings. On her left, spread across the polythene-covered couch, lie a couple of ridiculously abstract drawings, colorful and confusing, each of them made with the skill and precision equal to a six-year-old if he has to guess.

Suddenly, it all clicks.

Along with his tongue.

The short clack doesn’t make her flinch, though she straightens immediately, a glimmer of surprise shining in her riveting eyes when she looks up at the intruder and deems him worthy of a smile. Her lush, rosy lips curl up generously, greeting him with a beam so dazzling his body heats up like bare skin kissed by the blazing midday sun in the middle of summer.

The older doctor doesn’t return the cordial gesture—he has a reputation to uphold and his bruised dignity to save. He quickly takes refuge in the shadow of his perfect decorum, dexterously covering the unjustifiable act of treason committed by his very own carnality.

Tiffany, however, is undeterred in her mission to melt his callous indifference with the disarming sincerity of her vivacious spirit.

“Before you drop your sarcastic grenades on me: no, I have not found my true calling elsewhere. I have not been slacking up either. These aren’t even mine, so insulting someone else’s artistic skills would be totally inappropriate.” Her hand waves over the drawings.

“I wouldn’t dare to insult a respected artist and credit you with their art.” He retorts flatly, then spills the aforementioned sarcasm like the Lord intended. “Early Pollock must cost a fortune or two. How come such rare artworks ended up in your possession?”

His comment inspires a peal of infectious laughter; the powerful melody of Tiffany’s unadulterated amusement conquers the room, all but obliterating the chronic sternness of Ethan’s face.

He cannot help but bask in the glory of this unexpected outcome: he’s the reason behind the glorious, velvety sound; she’s laughing because of him.

“You made a pretty solid assumption, Doctor Ramsey, but I have to disappoint you: early Pollock had an affair with surrealism and his style was way more compositional than this.” She points at the glittery mess splashed in the center of one of the pieces, not so subtly suppressing another wave of laughter.

Miss Addams and her irreplaceable wit painfully remind him of the golden rule he often pretends doesn’t concern his giant ego: do not speak on the topics your knowledge of is insufficient.

Lustrous vivid-green eyes fixed on him and the urgency he’s facing at the moment leave him no choice but to quickly shake off the embarrassment and adapt his reaction accordingly.

Reluctantly, Ethan clings to brutal honesty. “I’m not an art connoisseur, so I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.”

“Oh, trust me, you would.”

A smudge of amethyst retrieves the diagnostician’s attention for one split second, demanding a seamless change of topic.

“I presume you spent your lunch break on the pediatric ward again, trying to start a new art movement.”

Doctor Addams gasps theatrically and presses her slender fingers to her mouth, lowering her head slightly. “What gave me away?”

Ethan considers revealing the truth through another shot of bluntly delivered sarcasm (something he would have done in any other case), but his body betrays him, subconsciously drawing near Tiffany.

“Apart from the excited chatter on the second floor? Nothing.” He replies, straining to keep his impeccable composure just as she bites into her lower lip tantalizingly in what appears to be keen anticipation.

A few risky steps later she’s at his arm’s length, and he decides to measure that dangerously short distance; akin to an audience member of some ludicrous soap opera, the diagnostician observes his hand move towards the intern’s face in slow motion, as if that bloody limb wasn’t his and the falsely innocent intention swarming inside his incisive, virtuous mind filled him with repulsion.

Except he wants this. He needs to feel her.

Even though the mere ghost of an idea may bring his demise, he cannot break free, imprisoned by the torturous vision of her vanilla-scented skin gliding smoothly against his.

Much to his bewilderment, her breath quickens just as much as his; the evergreen forest in her eyes bursts into flames when their gazes meet, burning his hesitation down.

She wants this too.

Nothing could convince him to refrain from acting on this forbidden desire now, not a single reasonable thought seems to be charged with a cogent argument.

So he lets his thumb brush down her right cheek, down the lick of wet paint smeared across her warm skin, taking most of the dark purple off the silken canvas along the way.

The sky didn’t tear in half, there was no divine retribution exacted upon a sinner like him, no sign of punishment fit for his appalling misdeed.

“Nothing. At. All.”

Nothing but the silky smoothness of her face, rapid rise and fall of her shapely chest, and fiery heat searing through his veins…

Inevitably, the unbearable tension crackling between them dissipates in a flash when Tiffany snorts at the sight of his acrylic-stained thumb, a soundless ‘fuck’ escapes her mouth as she sprints to find a prompt solution for the paintmergency, stripping him of time to ponder on what the living hell just happened.

He takes advantage of the moment, immediately scolding himself, forcing his thoughts to flee from the crime scene concocted by his newly depraved brain.

“Must be your enviable instinct of an outstanding diagnostician then.” Cheeky as ever, she casts a playful eye over Ethan while rummaging through the drawers, summoning him to focus on her.

Within a long minute, she scuttles back to him, stretched arm offering one of the two pieces of paper towel sprayed with hand sanitizer. They use it to rub the paint off their skin. As soon as they’re done, Ethan quips back. Sort of.

“The balance between mockery and flattery is a bit too delicate to be used in a professional environment, don’t you agree, Addams?”

Unintimidated by the tricky question, Tiffany lifts her shoulder in a half shrug. “It all depends on the intelligence of the person you’re speaking with. You’re ultrawealthy in that department, so I assumed you wouldn’t mind some harmless friendly banter.”

“We’re not friends.” The speed with which he retaliates might have just sealed his fate. Deep down, he doesn’t quite believe those words himself, but there are rules to be followed unconditionally, rules that cannot be broken under any circumstances.

Dark, noble brows accentuating the breadth of her radiance crease together in sheer bewilderment. He can almost hear the scoff she’s choking back when she sees right through the cone-shaped hole in the thick wall separating them.

Liar, liar, pants on fire.

“We’re getting there.” She nods vigorously, openly mocking his well-meaning mendacity with lips pursed into a thin line and narrowed eyes surveying him diligently.

„An attending befriending his intern? I can’t see that happening.”

A winning grin lights Tiffany’s features up. „It’s already happening, whether you like it or not.”

The more she pushes forward, infuriatingly so, the more he resists, fortifying his helpless defense.

„Would you be kind enough to explain why on Earth would I let it happen?”

“It’s beyond your control.” She shakes her head. „There’s nothing you can do now.”

He frowns at her, takes her fierce expression in, feigning utter disinterest in the mesmerizing spatter of freckles adorning her glowy skin.

Is the intensity of his glare too revealing? Can there be a flash of ardent curiosity swimming in his eyes and acting up against him?

„You’re awfully confident about all the wrong things, Rookie.”

She mimics the military salute, right hand raised sharply, touching her forehead, fingers and thumb extended and joined, palm facing down. „The colossal pain in your ass reporting for duty, sir.”

This display of her goofiness, derived from the smidgeon of irreverence he’s found himself covertly fond of, successfully penetrates his ruptured facade.

At last, Doctor Terminator’s perpetually grim face blooms with an ear-to-ear smile, so wide and genuine that Tiffany blinks once, twice, most probably questioning whether the exceptionally unusual scene in front of her is real.

The way she gapes at his mouth almost drills a hole in him—she’s that awestruck, like a pious believer who stumbled upon irrefutable evidence confirming the foundation of her faith.

“You should smile more. You…” Her plush lips part when she trails off, then sucks in a breath, as if to stop the profanation of their professional relationship jumping on the tip of her tongue from slipping out recklessly.

She wants this too.

“It suits you.”

Ethan’s cheeks erupt with disgraceful heat, resembling an awkward teenager attracting his crush’s attention for the very first time—the feeling almost as mortifying and inexcusable as the unprecedented lack of any snarky response.

As if the worst was yet to come, Tiffany keeps on staring at him with such exhilarating wonder and sureness he doesn’t quite know how to proceed with such abundance of emotion meddling with his stoic approach.

She wants this too.

For a fleeting moment, the abyss of his solitude shrinks significantly, purple paint filling the crack on the illusory contentment with the life he’s chosen, just as her piercing gaze invites him further into the impossible fantasy.

Then, a jolt of sobering guilt runs along his spine in a rude awakening, at the same time when Tiffany realizes the gravity of her daring statement and its perilous implications.

“I, erm…”

“Uhm, my…”

Ethan smashes the uncharacteristic uneasiness descending on them, a benign half-smile and barely perceptible nod encourage her to continue. “Go on.”

Her gaze flickers towards the hall, a tinge of crimson reddening freckled porcelain. “My break is almost over. I should head back to the ER.”

Hell must have frozen over: his fearless protégée, strong-willed and sharp-tongued at all times, befuddles him with this uncommonly demure armor plate she has put on. The most challenging obstacles and cases fail to break her down, stress and pressure never threaten her admirable strength, and yet there she is—bleeding from her own sword.

This supremely fascinating token of hidden vulnerability sheds new light on the beguiling collection of contradictions making her whole.

He examines the younger doctor pacing around the room as she gathers her belongings up, stuffing her capacious bag with them. Half-way, she spins to address him directly and points at her cheek.

“Am I…Still…?”

“No, you’re alright. The paint is gone.”

“Splendid.”

As she goes forward, assembling her patients’ drawings into a neat pile, and—rather intentionally—ignoring Ethan, he readjusts his tie and dives headfirst into the pool of her discomfort.

“Addams?”

“Hm?”

“You don’t have to dedicate such a vast portion of your free time to helping others.”

She freezes, visibly offended, but still intent on avoiding his gaze. “I know. I want to.”

“What I meant...Is that you need to add yourself to the equation, Tiffany.”

“I’m doing just fine, thank you.” She scoffs, the barely noticeable defensive undertone reverberating in her firm answer not entirely convincing for the diagnostics virtuoso.

His evaluation is disrupted by the abominably loud beeping of Tiffany’s pager. Their eyes finally clash for a brief shootout with no winner before she shuts the damn thing up.

“Well then. See you later, Doctor Ramsey.” She blurts out hastily without giving him a second glance and turns round to rush out of the room, but stops in her tracks near the door.

Something sparks inside that brilliant mind of hers, reigniting her boldness. Dense curtain of long lashes flutters at him over her shoulder, inky-black and luxurious akin to the finest lace, the signature magnetic smile dancing on her lips again—this time infused with genuine concern. She inspects his countenance for a still moment, inch by inch, crease by crease, until her head falls to the side like she has just uncovered his biggest secret.

“Consider locking the door in your office and getting some rest.”

“Giving me advice isn’t included in your job description.” He sneers, the unnecessarily harsh huff of his disapproval concealing the alien sentiment spilling inside his chest.

Somehow it’s still not enough to antagonize her.

Her eyes bore into his audaciously; the gentleness gleaming from elusive emerald green, reminiscent of safety, offers shelter he despairingly seeks, but cannot take. “But it’s nice to have someone watching out for you, isn’t it?”

Somehow they might have more in common than one would think.

Careful not to expose the motley collection of feelings stirring his blood, Ethan draws in a long breath and slips his hands into the pockets of pristine white coat, perfecting his posture, with tense body standing even taller, as though to appear completely unaffected by her undeniable appeal, more unrelenting.

He’s been looked at countless times, yes, but this must be the first instance where he feels truly seen.

It is indeed nice.

The attending doesn’t say a word, for he would have to agree with the intern. She smirks triumphantly, accepting the tacit disbelief etched on his face as conclusive proof of her diagnosis.

Instead of claiming victory through verbal manifestation of her sass, Doctor Addams attacks him using a different weapon: a provocative wink. “Just think about it.”

With a graceful twirl indicating goodbye, his Rookie struts out, leaving a dizzying mist of her divine scent behind.

Wasting no time, Ethan scoots to the exact place where she stood prior to this moment, soaking up the delicious cloud of fragrance, unable to resist sniffing the air like some sort of disgustingly pathetic creep.

Thankfully, there are no witnesses to this particularly revolting descent into madness.

No witnesses to the beginning of his fall.

Mind over heart has never sounded more delusional than now, that his hard-won empire of spotless reason stands on the verge of crumbling. But he’s not giving up—he can’t give up. There’s too much at stake.

Beyond dispute, Ethan Ramsey is not an easy man to defeat. The King of Quiet Desperation wears his broken crown with arrogance, each burnished gem representing his sins, though the ultimate one hasn’t brought him down yet.

Having put the mask of nonchalance back on, Doctor Ramsey turns off the lights and stomps into the empty corridor—his hand still carrying the heavenly softness of Tiffany’s skin like a fingerprint, like a sin, shaky fingers curling at the very thought of the contact—then begins a seemingly casual stroll to his office.

He doesn’t have many vices—she is all of them.

_____

A/N2: Hope you enjoyed this bad boy ❤️ Sorry (not sorry) if it's too long and repetitive...I literally can't shut up when it comes to these two fsksjdkfjs Plus it felt really good to find my writing mojo after such a long time!

PS. If there are any typos and/or mistakes...No, there aren't lol I'm fighting COVID at the moment, so my brain's a little foggy. I had this fic sitting in my drafts and decided to just go with the flow while I'm feverish and can't see any faults sjfskfkjf I'll get back to everyone waiting for a reply when I'm more coherent. Stay safe, lovelies!

#ethan ramsey #open heart #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey x mc #playchoices #fluffy angst #choices open heart #open heart fanfiction

[genevievemd]

It's You and Me, That's My Whole World...

November 30 - December 2, 2023

Book: Open Heart (Beyond) Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Genevieve McClure) Format: Text/Edits Rating: T Category: fluff Trope(s): and one of them uses social media

Summary: Ethan and Gen get the keys to their new vacation home on the cape and spend the weekend

Warnings: alludes to adult activities

A/N: Follow up to And Now The Storm Is Coming, But... McRam's weekend in NYC. Enjoy

Thursday, November 30th

Friday, December 1st

Saturday, December 2nd

A/N: Hope you enjoyed the update! Next time I pop up with an update will be the pregnancy reveal! Cause our baby G is currently pregnant! She still doesn't know yet... she will soon, tho. Cause she's down with "the flu" right now 😉

Tagging Separately

#ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x mc #open heart #pictagram #ethan ramsey #ethan x gen

[a-cloud-for-dreams]

Do you think we'll be together in another universe?

I think I'll miss you forever (summertime sadness) Like the stars miss the sun in the morning sky (summertime summertime sadness) Later's better than never (summertime summertime sadness) Even if you're gone, I'm gonna drive (drive), drive I got that summertime, summertime sadness Su-su-summertime, summertime sadness Got that summertime, summertime sadness Kiss me hard before you go Summertime sadness I just wanted you to know That baby you the best

Fanart Credits Respectively: frostkitsuneart (VK) & The_mandywalker (Instagram)

#if you thought I would shut up about them you're unfortunately wrong 🤷🏽‍♀️ they EXUDE the same energy #playchoices #romance club #kali call of darkness #open heart #chandini ramakrishnan oc #amala khan #cute prompts #gabriel grant #ethan ramsey #amala x gabriel #ethan & chandini #ethan ramsey x mc #spotify #fic ideas #fave fanart tag 🖼️ #lana del rey #arctic monkeys #mir falls in love <3

[linkysmommy]

Excited to let everyone know that I've finally finished my Open Heart Storyloom fic! It took me a while with all the different romance variants, but it's finished now. Shout out to my friends Orc and Shionch for continually getting after me to finish, and for helping me with the final romance variants when I was oh so stuck.

You can play the full story here if you're on PC, or if you're on mobile, can find it on the Storyloom app by searching "Open Heart: A Toxic Situation." I hope you enjoy this little story I've put together, and thanks to everyone who's read it ❤️

Note: There is currently a bug in the final chapter where Asian MMC is Hispanic MMC. The fix has been submitted, but it won't be live until tomorrow, most likely.

#open heart #playchoices #storyloom #ethan x mc #rafael x mc #bryce x mc #jackie x mc #aurora x mc #ethan ramsey #rafael aveiro #bryce lahela #jackie varma #aurora emery

[storyofmychoices]

Holiday Cheer 🎄 ❤️ 💚

My loveliest @jerzwriter and @lilyoffandoms, I adore you both so very much! I am grateful to this fandom for bring you both into my life! You both make this fandom a better place by being your amazing selves. Love you both!!!

I hope you enjoy this holiday art of our Open Heart babies by the always lovely, @weetlebeetle!

Holiday Cheer 🎄 ❤️ 💚

Prompts: Christmas: @choicesdecember2023, @choicesficwriterscreations, @choicesholidays, @choicesflashfics (holiday prompt, in bold)

Pairing: Bryce x Olivia , Ethan x Merida (@lilyoffandoms), Tobias x Casey (@jerzwriter)

Book: Open Heart

Word Count: >700

Rating/Warnings: general

Synopsis: Olivia, Merida, and Casey decide to decorate the Diagnostic Office.

The Diagnostic Office buzzed with festive energy as Olivia, Casey, and Merida decorated Ethan's office with holiday cheer. The trio, wearing holiday sweaters and festive headbands, worked diligently, preparing a surprise for their significant others. Boxes of decorations lay scattered across the room. In the center of the space lay a jumbled mess of tangled lights. 

Casey grappled with the relentless knots in the string lights, muttering under her breath. The more of the knots she freed, the more the lights seemed to conspire, weaving her into their tangled web.

Merida offered her assistance, teasing her friend playfully. "Making friends with the lights, Casey? Or are they plotting a holiday takeover?"

"They seem a formidable foe," Olivia chimed in, giggling as she watched Casey try to unravel a particularly tangled section.

"Ugh! I feel like neurosurgery would be easier than this," Casey joked, tediously separating the stubbornly intertwined wires.

Olivia added miniature ornaments to the long strands of garlands strewn around the rooms, her eyes sparkling with joy. "I can't wait to see their faces when they walk in." She clapped her hands enthusiastically, unable to contain her excitement. 

"Finally!" Casey jumped up, pumping her hands in the air in victory. She quickly gathered the lights, placing them in Olivia's arms. "They're all yours!" 

"My pleasure!" Olivia took the lights, holding them up in front of her, deciding on their perfect placement. 

A mischievous spark flickered in Casey's eyes as she caught Merida's attention. "Let's add a little extra surprise." She produced a small sprig of mistletoe from her bag.

Merida's brow arched. "Do you and Tobias really need another reason to be all over each other?"

"Oh, it's not for me," Casey teased, winking toward Merida. "I think we can all agree that a certain diagnostician would benefit from letting loose a little bit." 

"I'm not sure he'll share your sentiment, but I'm willing to risk it. Who knows, maybe we'll see our own Christmas miracle," Merida retorted. 

With stealthy precision, they positioned the mistletoe above the office doorway, chuckling at the playful addition to the festive decor.

The two stood beneath it, making sure it was safely secured, and somewhat out of sight. 

Merida's gaze shifted between the decor and Casey. "If this doesn't get Ethan's attention, I'm sure I could find someone else to take advantage of it with?" 

Casey shrugged coyly, curious by the prospect, "And, perhaps also even if he does!"

As the three friends finished up, the room transformed into a cozy haven adorned with twinkling lights and festive cheer.

Just then, the door swung open, and Bryce, Ethan, and Tobias entered, greeted by the sight of the dazzlingly decorated office. Their eyes widened in surprise and appreciation, well, at least for two of them.

“It looks like Santa threw up in here," Ethan grumbled. 

"It's festive," Tobias quickly defended, admiring the decorations. "You gotta lighten up, Scrooge."

"I wish someone would decorate the O.R. like this," Bryce added gleefully.

"You do realize that none of this is sterile," Ethan interrupted. “So unless you plan to risk your patients lives, you do not wish someone to decorate the O.R.”

"Ignore him," Bryce wrapped his arms around Olivia, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "It's beautiful." 

Ethan sighed, rubbing the space between his brows. He was truly outnumbered. He always was, but sometimes he had Olivia on his side. Not this time. “...It can stay," he mumbled reluctantly.

"It really wasn't an option," Casey smirked. 

Ethan stepped further into his office, but his movements were halted.

"Not so fast—" Merida sauntered forward, pressing Ethan back under the doorway once more. "I believe you owe me a kiss." 

"That's a juvenile tradition," he protested.

"Are you refusing? You know that's bad luck."

"You know I don't believe in luck."

Merida shook her head; she wanted to scold him but this was who he was, and she loved him for it. Her fingers flirted with his tie a moment, before she pulled him down to her, her lips crashing against his.

Their embrace was met by whistles and howls from their friends. The pair ignored them, their lingering kiss enduring.

Casey turned to Tobias, her voice soft, "Merry Christmas." Her lips met his tenderly. 

Olivia leaned further into Bryce, letting the warmth and comfort of his embrace engulf her as she marveled at the beautiful lights and displays surrounding them. 

Their jobs weren't always easy, and sometimes things could seem bleak, but right now, surrounded by their friends and such a cheerful display, everything seemed just right.

#bryce lahela #bryce lahela x mc #tobias carrick x mc #ethan ramsey x mc #tobias carrick #ethan ramsey #bryce oph #bryce lahela x oc #open heart #playchoices #choices #choices game #olivia hadley #bryce x olivia #brylivia #lovealexhunt #oph bryce #fan fiction #open heart fan fic #my commission #brylivia commission #lovealexhuntgetsart #december2023

[alwaysmychoices]

Every Night

Synopsis: Now that Charlie and Ethan are back together, they spend the first night of their new lives together -- and Ethan has a question to ask.

Chapter 44 of the “with and without” series

Previous Series: “a weekend with dr. ramsey”

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x MC (Charlotte “Charlie” Greene)

Words: 2.9k

Rating: General Audience

Also available on AO3 & Wattpad (link in Masterlist)

There was something so peaceful about Ethan’s apartment tonight. Had this apartment always been peaceful? No, it couldn’t have been. Only last night, it was a mausoleum dedicated to the loss of true love.

But tonight, it was impossible to imagine these halls echoing anything but affection and contentment. The air tasted sweeter, the space felt warmer, the laughs were louder. One night of Charlie’s presence exorcised the ghosts that haunted Ethan in the middle of the night.

The change was subtle, but Ethan felt it with every step he took.

She’s here, he thought as he towel-dried his hair. She’s here, he thought as he stepped into his pajamas. She’s here, he thought as he savored the smell of her shampoo lingering in the damp air. She’s here, he thought as he padded to the living room.

Boston stared back at him through the windows – all the tallest buildings winking their congratulations.

The dim-lit space left evidence of Charlie’s presence in every corner – her shoes by the door, the crumbled pillow by her favorite chair, and the assortment of hair ties that followed her every step. Ethan was greedy for more of it, his usual tidiness be damned.

Ethan poured himself a glass of water and tapped the keypad of his laptop, waking it so he could check the time. With Charlie, time seemed to stop, but just as he suspected, it had continued for the rest of the world. It was late, so late that they should have been in bed hours ago if Charlie wanted to be well-rested for work tomorrow. But Ethan didn’t regret a moment of their night, nor was he eager to go to sleep now.

Stifling a yawn, Ethan curiously opened his notifications, and he was startled by the staggering amount.

At the top of the screen were the expected messages. HR paperwork for his new position with the hospital. Confirmation emails for cancelled movers. Pleas from a devastated recruiter trying to convince him to leave Boston anyway.

Then, there were the text messages reacting to the news. The Edenbrook rumor mill worked quickly, and by the time Ethan picked up Charlie from work, there were already whispers about their illicit affair.

Harper’s message came first. She was happy to hear that Charlie and Ethan were together, but she chastised Ethan for keeping the secret in the first place, though she insisted she’d sensed it long ago. She demanded dinner with the two of them as an apology, and Ethan typed back his assent, apologizing for lying to his friend and promising to make dinner reservations as soon as possible.

When Ethan sent his reply, he was surprised to realize that he was looking forward to dinner with Charlie and Harper. It wasn’t the first time that the trio spent time together, but it would be the first dinner where Charlie and Ethan didn’t have to perform, stifling themselves to avoid drawing attention to their relationship. Ethan liked the idea of integrating Charlie fully into his life – acknowledging the long-held truth that she was the most important part of it.

Above Harper’s gracious congratulations, Tobias Carrick sent a string of texts. It was clear that he hadn’t paced himself or censored a single thought, resulting in a string of consciousness as Tobias unraveled the revelations.

TOBIAS: I KNEW IT! I can’t believe you got caught MAKING OUT with a RESIDENT before you told me!

TOBIAS: Though Charlie is wonderful.

TOBIAS: So why does she like you then? She knows you enough to know better. How did you convince her to date you?

TOBIAS: Someone just told me you’ve been dating for a year. That better be a lie.

TOBIAS: No, it’s not. You’ve been evasive all year. That’s why, isn’t it?

TOBIAS: Then again, you’re always evasive and awkward.

TOBIAS: My office is next to yours, and I swear I heard noises today.

TOBIAS: Just heard the news that you’re leaving. Don’t fret. I’ll be the leader the Diagnostics Team has always needed.

The last message came a few hours later, when Tobias had clearly processed the news and felt it necessary to give a more cohesive and gracious response.

TOBIAS: Seriously though, congratulations. I’m proud of you.

TOBIAS: But don’t screw it up.

Ethan didn’t really consider Tobias a friend – not after their antagonistic history and current conflicts. But this string of texts tugged on some part of Ethan’s heart that had once considered Tobias his best friend. Perhaps it was worth trying again, even if this was just evidence that Tobias was as insufferable as ever.

ETHAN: Thank you.

There wasn’t much else to say, so Ethan didn’t bother trying. And frankly, for him, it was quite a lot.

After Tobias’s messages, there were a few more. Some of Charlie’s friends reached out to say they were happy for them. Sienna tentatively endorsed the relationship, though she reserved the right to murder Ethan if he messed up again. Jackie’s threats against Ethan were far less veiled, and Bryce sent at least a dozen excited emojis.  Naveen wrote with glee, boasting that their reunion had all gone to plan. When Ethan questioned Naveen’s direct defiance, Naveen ignored the question and offered the happy couple a weekend at his lake house to celebrate. Gracious for the offer (and Naveen’s interference), Ethan didn’t push it.

Nor did he need to push it.

Because there she was – his darling, wonderful Charlotte.

With Jenner close on her heels, Charlie wandered into the kitchen. The familiar scent of coconut and vanilla followed her, enveloping Ethan’s senses long before she looped her arms around his waist and nuzzled into him.

“There you are,” Charlie murmured, resting her cheek on his bare back. His skin was warm and scented with the mixture of their respective body washes – each still sitting in Ethan’s shower as if no time had passed.

In some ways, that made Charlie sad. She didn’t like to picture Ethan ending each night, staring at her half-empty bodywash and refusing to throw it away, even when he’d lost hope of her ever coming home. But the grief for their lost time was only a momentary interruption. In its wake, gratitude emerged. Because she had come home, and the bodywash was still waiting for her.

 Ethan smiled softly, abandoning his laptop and twisting his body so that they were face-to-face.  He leaned down to kiss the crown of her head, and Charlie shifted, leaning further into his embrace.

“What are you up to?” Charlie asked, her voice still in a daze.

The day had been so perfect – their reunion, their afternoon, their time at home. They’d spent most of the evening tangled in Ethan’s sheets, but not a moment of it had been quiet. They’d consumed each other in every way possible, from touch to speech. No time had passed, yet there was so much to catch up on.

“Missing you,” Ethan confessed.

Charlie laughed, “It’s been ten minutes since I kicked you out of the shower so I could actually wash my hair without you distracting me.”

“Way too long.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Charlie rolled her eyes, but it was the blush creeping up her cheeks that made Ethan smile. He kissed the flush as it spread up her skin, and he smiled against her cheek as she laughed.

Had anyone else ever been so happy?

“But really,” Charlie playfully swatted Ethan’s shoulder, “What are you doing? If it’s work, I’ll be obligated to make fun of you.”

Ethan shook his head, shifting so they could both face the laptop, “You’ll enjoy this.”

With a few clicks, Ethan brought up Tobias’s text thread. Somehow, the messages were even funnier from Charlie’s perspective. He lit up as he watched her read the messages, laughing at things he hadn’t even noticed before. Then, he showed her the other congratulatory messages. He thought she would like to see the well-wishes, but really, it was a silent effort to show he embraced the promises he’d made to her. He wanted her to know that he wasn’t hiding her anymore.

And Charlie appreciated every bit of it.

She reveled in the idea of dinners with friends. She wanted to be Ethan’s “plus one” to every event, even she’d have to throw her own party to get the opportunity. She liked how easily they talked about it, how Ethan actively participated in their planning without any pressure.

It was night and day from the man she’d once stormed out on.

Her chest ached with pride.

When Ethan reached Naveen’s message, he almost seemed nervous. As if suggesting a weekend away might break their fragile perfection.

“What do you think?” Ethan asked, when Charlie had sufficient time to read the exchange, “A weekend at the lake?”

Ethan had a whole pitch planned out. He was ready to remind Charlie that spring had just reached the city, the sunshine melting the ice and promising new beginnings. They could get out of the city and reconnect in the place where they’d first fallen in love. It felt like the right place to start their new chapter.

But a pitch wasn’t necessary.

“Yeah,” Charlie smiled softly, “A weekend with Dr. Ramsey. Sounds perfect.”

“A weekend with Dr. Greene,” Ethan echoed, mirroring her soft smile as he rubbed a gentle pattern on her back.

Charlie leaned into Ethan’s side, exhaustion peaking through their blinding happiness. Both of them were tempted to evade sleep altogether and stay awake all night, trading their wasted hours of rest with the promise of tender whispers and sacred promises. But relaxation had already seeped into their bones and lowered their defenses. They were both fighting to stay awake.

It was Ethan who declared the first move.

Pressing a tender kiss to Charlie’s forehead, Ethan suggested, “We should go to bed.”

“No, no,” Charlie shook her head, “It’s too early.”

“You have to be at work in a few hours,” Ethan reminded her, though he lacked conviction. He was just as willing to stay up all night as she was, if not more so since he didn’t have a morning shift.

“I’m a resident. I can handle a sleepless night.”

“Come on,” Ethan nudged her gently, “You’re being stubborn.”

“So are you.”

Ethan shrugged, Fair point.

Charlie eyed him warily – ready for battle. Ready for their opposing wills to dominate their minds until they were forced to pick a winner. Ready to draw blood before admitting defeat.

But then a moment passed, and it was all silly.

Charlie was tired, and Ethan would still be here in the morning. He would be there the night after, and the day after, and every day they were willing to share.

So, Charlie said, “Fine. Let’s go to bed.”

Ethan appreciated the magnanimous resolution, and he peppered her cheeks with quiet praise. Though, admittedly, he was inclined to think that everything Charlotte did was perfect. After kissing Jenner goodnight, the pair went to Ethan’s bedroom, ignoring the alarm clock on Ethan’s bedside table that would surely ruin their morning.

It wasn’t Charlie’s first time in Ethan’s bed tonight, but when she climbed into her usual place on the right side of the bed, it felt monumental.

The rose-colored glasses of their reunion lifted, and the gravity of the situation forced them back to earth. Instead of feeling silly for their reverence, they felt absurd for not having more.

War is over. The end of days never came. Insurmountable grief faded away. All the terrible things didn’t matter anymore. The past was in black and white, and the future was painted in vivid color and neon welcome signs.

Charlie is home. Charlie is in our bed. Everything is right, Ethan thought.

Charlie and Ethan tried to act casual as they settled into the sheets, but they couldn’t help but stare at the other. Their eyes were wide with meaning, communicating what neither had the bravery to say. When Charlie’s eyes began to water, Ethan quietly stroked her cheek.

After what felt like a lifetime, Ethan whispered, “I really did miss you.”

As if something like that needed to be said. As if it didn’t carry through every conversation. As if it wasn’t part of his DNA. As if she didn’t feel it with every adoring kiss and smile.

“I missed you, too,” Charlie met his honesty with her own, though her voice lacked his strength. At the slightest hint of a crack, Ethan tucked Charlie into his embrace, and Charlie took the opportunity to breath him in.

Sandalwood. Cedar. Vanilla. A hint of mint.

The smell of home, she thought.

Nestled safely in Ethan’s arms, Charlie’s eyelids grew heavy. Weeks of sleepless nights caught up with her in an instant, rendering her half-asleep in mere moments. As Ethan peered down at her, his chest squeezed with affection.

And suddenly, he knew.

He knew with absolute certainty that Charlotte Greene was his future.

He was overcome with an urge to propose right then and there. It didn’t matter that he didn’t have a ring or a plan or even ambience. Ethan just wanted to marry her. Hell, given the option, he would have run to City Hall right then and there to seal the deal.

Ethan opened his mouth to speak, but something stopped him.

We need time, he realized. The wounds were too fresh and the peace too fragile. He didn’t want to rush into anything that would endanger their precious newfound happiness, nor did he need to rush.

So, despite his overwhelming urge to the contrary, Ethan decided to wait – and it was just waiting. Not refusing or dismissing the idea. He knew they would make it, and he was sure that she would say yes when it was time.

But stopping himself from proposing didn’t eradicate all Ethan’s impulses.

No, he wasn’t out of grand gestures or over-eager requests.

“Move in with me,” Ethan blurted out.

Charlie stirred, wiping at her eyes as she sleepily asked, “What?”

“Move in with me,” Ethan repeated, less confident this time.

“You’re serious?” Charlie’s eyes widened.

“I am,” Ethan nodded, though he didn’t seem very sure. Despite his obvious commitment to the idea she move in, he didn’t have his argument ready – a rarity in itself. Ethan had never made any big life decision without a reasoned argument.

“You’re always here anyway,” Ethan softened, eagerness belying every justification, “and I want you here. All the time. I want to come home to you and share our closet, and I want to add your books to our bookshelves. We’re living in the ‘in between’ – with you sometimes living here and sometimes not. I’m tired of that. I want to be with you fully. In every way I can. This isn’t home without you.”

Charlie hesitated.

She was startled to realize that she already knew the answer. Before he even started talking, she wanted to say yes. And there was no good reason to say no.

It seemed rushed, but was it really? They’d been together for over a year, and she’d spent more nights here than anywhere else. Did time apart fundamentally change that? Did they feel so fragile that sudden changes would shatter them? Or had it been the status quo that drove them apart in the first place?

And did any of it fucking matter?

Would waiting really make things better? Would a slow approach save them from future disaster? Hiding hadn’t done them any favors, nor had abundant caution kept them from starting their relationship in the first place.

Charlie wanted to come home to Ethan. She wanted to put a name to all the things they’d silently endorsed for months, including her continued presence in this apartment. She wanted to cover the space with evidence of their relationship until it was little more than a shrine.

So, perhaps she didn’t give the offer the careful consideration it deserved. Or maybe she gave it too much consideration when the answer would always be the same.

“Yes,” Charlie blurted out.

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah,” Charlie nodded, realization creeping across her features, “My answer is yes. I want to move in with you.”

Ethan breathed a sigh of relief, happily covering her face with kisses. Between excited kisses, he assured her that she could always keep her old apartment, and he would understand if she changed her mind.

Charlie stopped him, “You don’t need to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Try to form a back-up plan,” Charlie settled her gaze on his, “I’m confident we’ll work out.”

“You are?” Ethan repeated breathlessly. It was one thing for Ethan to be blind in love, but it was quite another to realize she was just as high off this feeling.

“Yeah,” Charlie rested her hand on his chest, feeling the jackhammer of his heart, “Aren’t you?”

And amazingly, he was.

Nodding his head, Ethan whispered, “Yeah, I am.”

“Good,” Charlie leaned her head against his chest, “I love you, Ethan.”

“I love you, too, Charlotte.”

That was how they fell asleep – holding onto each other with persistent desperation and adoring reverence. Like they were so lucky to even get the opportunity to fall asleep together. Like it was a gift from the universe that they were here with each other. But it was better than fate – it was deliberate choice. It was an active effort to stay.

And it was the beginning of everything.

#choices #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan ramsey x charlie greene #with and without #fanfiction #open heart #pixelberry #WIP #Dr. Ethan Ramsey

[liaromancewriter]

Daddy’s Girl

Premise: A poignant moment between father and daughter after the poison attack.

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine); feat. Robert Valentine (OC) Rating/Category: Teen. Angsty Fluff. Words: 1,510

A/N: Submission for @choicesjanuary2024 day 16 prompt "relationships". I'm also using @choicesflashfics week 69, prompt 3

Robert Valentine had a plan. He’d graduate from college, sail around the world and then settle down to live out the Valentine legacy of working in the family business. His father also had a plan, and it featured only two of the three items on his list.

Unable to say no to the strict man who’d raised him, Robert gave up his dream of feeling the wind in his hair on the open seas. A chance encounter in Greenwich during summer break from Wharton further altered his plans.

A year later, he was married to a woman who not only shared his love of adventure but actively encouraged his carefree side. Becoming parents hadn’t been part of the plan, at least not so soon after getting married. But fate had other ideas.

As they stared down at the two tiny humans behind the glass of the nursery at Newport Hospital, he gently hooked one arm around Olivia’s waist. The boy was restless while the girl was asleep, their hands lightly touching.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Olivia murmured, still tired, her head resting on his shoulder.

Even though they’d known Olivia was carrying multiples, seeing them was a different reality. On top of that, the twins had arrived a month early. They still hadn’t landed on names or completed the nursery in the townhouse they’d bought near his work.

“We should come up with appropriate names,” he said quietly after a while. “Can’t keep calling them Thing One and Thing Two.”

“Imagine the shock on our parents’ faces if we put that on their birth certificates,” Olivia teased, her eyes swimming with laughter.

Robert chuckled, folding his wife in his arms. Being a father would change him; it was inevitable. But he didn’t have to give up his dreams, just adjust them for two more.

Now, all these years later, Robert watched his daughter’s even breathing as she lay sleeping on the hospital bed and wished he could turn back time to when she was a baby, tucked safe and sound in his arms.

The last two days had been harrowing and emotional. The panicked call from his son in the middle of the night, the long flight to Boston from Paris, the uncertainty about Cassie’s condition, and the anger when he and Olivia were denied entrance into the hospital.

But that was all over now, he sighed in relief. His daughter was no longer on death’s door. It would take time, but he’d been assured she would recover. If he thought Cassie wouldn’t be pissed at him for doubting her precious Dr. Ramsey, Robert would’ve whisked her off to the best specialists in the world for a second opinion.

Lost in thought, he didn’t notice Cassie’s eyelids fluttering as she slowly awoke. But he heard her whimpers and the sound of sheets rustling. He was out of the chair and by her bedside seconds before her eyes drifted open.

“Hey, kiddo,” Robert smiled softly, taking her hand.

“Daddy?” Cassie said in a confused tone, her voice reed thin and somewhat raspy.

She struggled to sit up, and he placed a steadying hand on her back while pressing a control button on the guardrail to raise the bed’s head. He adjusted the pillow to support her neck and poured a glass of water when she started coughing.

“Better?”

When she nodded, Robert set the glass down on the table. He turned away to drag the visitor’s chair closer to the bed and sat down, covering her hand with his palm. They smiled at each other, matching green eyes.

“You haven’t called me kiddo since I was ten,” she commented, smiling despite the sudden discomfort under her sternum.

The machines she was hooked up to briefly beeped before settling down as the pain subsided. Robert stroked the back of her hand with his thumb.

“Old habits,” he said, taking his eyes off the flashing numbers on the monitor. “You haven’t called me Daddy since you and Max decided that word was for babies.”

“Well, I feel weak as a baby right now, so that could be the reason,” she joked, and then tears filled her eyes, dripping down her cheeks. “I was so scared I’d never see you or Mom again. ”

Robert leaned in and wiped the tears away with his fingers, shushing her the way he used to when she was five and had a nightmare.

“When I was in that room, all I could think of was the last time you took us sailing,” she continued in a watery voice. “It was just before I moved to Boston. The fresh ocean breeze tossing my hair, the taste of salt on our lips as water crashed around us. Max cursing as the unruly waves rocked the boat and almost tipped us over. Your laughter booming in the wind. That feeling of truly being alive.”

Leaving the chair, he sat on the side of the bed and folded her into his arms, mindful of the drip lines and wires.

“You are alive, Cassie honey,” he whispered over and over as sobs wracked her body, and she burrowed her face into his chest. “You’re here, safe in my arms.”

Eventually, the storm passed, and he returned to his seat. The comforting silence stretched, broken only by the beeps and hums of the machines.

“Where’s Mom?”

“At the hotel, hopefully getting some rest,” Robert explained. “She barely slept these last couple of days. Max, too. Your brother pretends to be invincible, but he was running on fumes by the time we got here.”

“Maybe if he drank coffee every now and then,” Cassie said with a wry twist of her lips.

Robert shook his head in amusement and chuckled, well familiar with his children’s opposing views on this matter and their needling of each other as a result.

“Have you seen Ethan?”

“Yes, he dropped by an hour ago to check on you,” Robert replied, hiding his disquiet at how Cassie’s eyes locked on the closed door, waiting for the other man to walk in.

He steepled his index fingers under his chin as he sprawled on the chair, stretching his legs out under the bed. “I take it you’re both still hiding your relationship?”

Robert was glad Cassie at least had the good sense to look abashed. He wasn’t happy with the turn of events, but his wife was convinced it was the real deal and they should give the couple space to work it out. Olivia’s instincts were flawless, which was the only reason he exercised restraint.

“What do you think of him?” she asked, her eyes beseeching him to understand. “You didn’t say anything during or after the weekend in Newport. I really want you to like him, Daddy.”

“He’s certainly different from Jackson or anyone else you’ve dated before,” he said neutrally. “Older, reserved, and perhaps a little austere for my carefree daughter.”

“That’s just the side he shows everyone else,” Cassie said, her voice full of conviction. “He’s different when it’s just the two of us. Granted, our relationship is still evolving, but he cares for me, deeply.”

“I know, Cassie,” Robert said, remembering the tender look in the other man’s eyes earlier. “This isn’t up for debate. But as your father, I’m allowed to be concerned. Gossip from a workplace romance is rarely kind to the woman, especially when there’s a power imbalance.”

He held up a hand when she opened her mouth to protest. “You still have two years left in your training here. All I ask is that you be careful and protect your reputation if not your heart.”

Before Cassie could respond, there was a perfunctory knock on the door, and then it swung open. Ethan Ramsey crossed the threshold and suddenly stopped, causing the nurse accompanying him to crash into his back, the tray in her hand rattling before she steadied it.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Ethan said, his brows furrowing as if sensing he’d stepped into a quagmire. “We need to draw Dr. Valentine’s blood, check her vitals and run a few tests.”

“Yes, of course,” he said, pushing the chair back and standing up. “I’ll let you get on with it while I grab a coffee and check in on Olivia.”

Robert turned to smile down at Cassie. “Why don’t I get you something to eat?”

“Well, I am feeling a bit peckish,” Cassie mused, a teasing twinkle in her eyes. “Hospital food sucks.”

“I’ll ask the chef at the hotel to whip up your favorites.” Robert leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Be good, and no more heroics.”

He nodded at Ethan, who came to stand across from him on the other side of the bed. He noted the softness in Cassie’s eyes, the concern in Ethan’s and felt like a third wheel.

As Robert left the room, he glanced at the nurse, oblivious to their situation, and hoped Cassie heeded his advice. Ethan seemed decent enough, but if he hurt Cassie…. Well, when it came to his children, all bets were off.

---------------

All Fics & Edits: @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @lucy-268 @jerzwriter @lady-calypso @mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @youlookappropriate @zealouscanonindeer

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #open heart choices #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #open heart fanfics #open heart fanfiction #choices fanfics #choices fanfiction #ethan ramsey x cassie valentine

[jamespotterthefirst]

A Note and A Thank You

Dear wonderful readers,

I've been on the fence about this for months, but due to some life-changing (and scary) news I received today in my personal life, I decided it is the right time to say this. I always said that when the time came to hang my writing hat, I would not write a long goodbye post. And I plan to stick to my word. This is not goodbye. Not really. 

This upcoming March 2024 will mark four years of writing for Choices (more specifically, for Open Heart). I started this journey when Open Heart: Second Year was still publishing and as the world was going on lockdown due to the pandemic. Times back then were truly terrifying and unpredictable, but I found solace and comfort in this community. I was lucky to be received with what felt like open arms by friendly users and enthusiastic readers. 

That is a memory I will cherish until the end of my days.

With that in mind, I wanted to take a moment to express my deepest and everlasting gratitude to YOU for joining me in this crazy journey. Writing for Open Heart helped me re-discover my love for writing and I truly believe that wouldn’t have been possible without you. Your support and enthusiasm have been a tremendous source of joy these past four years.

Again, I know this sounds like a goodbye and it’s not. 

But I also want to be completely honest about my future here.

Many of you know that the world has long since returned to normal since the pandemic (or as normal as it can be). Things are vastly different from the day I wrote and published my first Open Heart fic (Lovely). These days, life has presented me with a series of challenges, including serious medical diagnoses and demanding work duties. As a result, finding the time and energy to write has become a complex balancing act.

I wanted to share this with you to express my sincere appreciation for your understanding during this busy (and terrifying) period. Though there is still much I want to create, I am uncertain about the frequency with which I can write in the future. To be brutally honest with myself, I doubt I will be able to create anything in the foreseeable future. I hope one day things will be okay in my life and I can return to doing what I love most. 

In the meantime, I leave you with my Masterlist. The works there are not perfect and if given the chance, I would definitely change many things, but they were written with much, much love. Though my online time is very limited now, I will still be here on Tumblr, reading and reblogging content when I get little breaks here and there. You guys also know I can't resist reblogging pictures of my pairing or answering asks about them! You can also find me on my main blog (if you want to follow the madness there). 

I once more want to say thank you. From the bottom of my heart. Your support, understanding, and patience mean the world to me. Thank you for being a part of this journey, and I hope to return to writing one day.

Until then, I'll see you guys around!

Sincerely,

Bree 

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc

[jerzwriter]

Pen-sive

Thank you so much for this three-word ask @thosehallowedhalls: Ethan, Kaycee, pens. You have no idea how excited I was about this... I'll tell you why at the end of the fic. 😊

Book: Open Heart (Post Series) Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Kaycee MacClennan (F!MC) Rating: Teen Words: 582 Summary: Something is missing, and Kaycee is not amused. A/N: @choicesjanuary2024 Day 17 - Rest (It's a bit of a stretch, but the poor man was resting - for a bit 😊)

It had been a fairly quiet afternoon by Edenbrook standards, and Ethan was relishing the relative quiet in his office. Finally catching up on work he had put aside for a day just like today, he stopped to take a break when he felt the warm sun beaming in from the window. Sitting back in his chair, he closed his eyes to relish the peace and tranquility.

It was short-lived.

Kaycee came barrelling into the room with the force of a hurricane (and we're not talking about a category one). Slamming the door behind her, there was a fire in her eyes as she marched up to Ethan’s desk. He let out a breath; the break was nice, while it lasted.

“Yes,” he said with his best manufactured smile.

“What is this,” Kaycee spat, tossing an object that clearly offended her onto Ethan’s desk.

He picked it up and examined it as meticulously as if it were a newly admitted patient. Then, after much thought, he placed it down before him.

“It’s a pen, my dear. A Bic pen, if we’re being exact. Classic style in clear plastic barrel casing. It appears to be a ballpoint with the blue cap still intact. Is that a sufficient explanation? Or do you require more?”

Kaycee plopped into the chair with a weary sigh, rubbing her temples to release the tension.

“And, my love, what is my opinion on this variety of pens?”

“You find them to be vile and an affront to humanity. You lie awake at night, baffled over why Congress has not taken adequate steps to rid society of each and every one.”

Her lips curled upward, and that dimple Ethan loved so much appeared. She wanted to maintain the level of exaggerated fury she had burst in with, but as usual, he wore her down.

“You are insane,” she chuckled.

“I’m insane? I'm insane? Should I bring in an impartial third party to determine who the insane one is?”

“Where is my pen!” She demanded. “I was sitting with you this morning, and I had it... my baby! My beautiful Uniball Jetstream retractable pen. You know, the one that glides across the page like silk, leaving a nice bold line without one single smudge or skip. WHERE is it Ethan, and don’t lie to me... I have my ways of finding these things out.”

Ethan smiled and shook his head. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out Kaycee’s treasured writing implement and handed it to her across his desk.

“In fairness, YOU grabbed the wrong pen when you left the office this morning.  I had nothing to do with this.  I didn’t even use it, just had it in my pocket for safe keeping... I know better.”

“I was still not caffeinated!" She said defensively. "I'll cut you a little slack, but did you page me 911 telling me to get back to your office and get it right away? No.  So I still hold you accountable for making me use that... that vile excuse of a pen all morning.”

Ethan took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.  “How can I make it up to you, dear?”

“Take me to lunch?”

He smiled and stood up from his chair, tossing his car keys in his pocket as he did. 

“Let’s go, and perhaps we can swing by Staples on the way back.”

“Staples? Why?”

“To get you a new box of those Uniball pens.  I can’t take this kind of stress at work.”

Beaming, she reached over and kissed him on the cheek.  “You know, you’re the best boyfriend ever!”

“Yep!” He nodded. “I certainly am.”

A/N2: OK, so you don't know this, but I am OBSESSED with pens. I am an utter pen snob, and it's not healthy. To make it worse, my boss's boss is the same way. We keep the cheap, shitty pens on our desks and "our pens" locked away so no one can get to them. If someone inadvertently takes one, we have been known to spend the morning hunting the offender down and making them pay. So the JOY this prompt brought me... you have NO idea. And now you have a peek into my variety of mental illness. lol Thank you!

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

#open heart #open heart fanfic #open heart choices #choices open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #playchoices #playchoices fanfic

[thosehallowedhalls]

An Awkward Interval

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Casey Valentine (F!MC)

Rating: Teen

Word count: ~550

Summary: Before leaving Miami, Casey knows she has to talk to Ethan.

A/N: For @jerzwriter, who gave me the prompt Ethan, Casey, Elevator. Drabble 17 of my 30 days of drabbles.

The silence echoes around them.

All right, technically, it isn’t silent. There are other people in the elevator, half of whom are talking with no regards to the fact that others can hear them discuss their plans for the day, what they did the day before and, in one particularly loud case, who they did the day before.  But as far as Ethan and Casey goes? The Pathology Department at Edenbrook is livelier.

She supposes she should have seen this coming. Ethan’s reaction to their kiss did foretell in giant neon letters that awkwardness was incoming. But she hasn’t felt this awkward since middle school.

That is not an age she wants to relive, thank you very much.

The elevator makes one stop, then another. People begin to filter out until they’re the only two occupants left. Ethan has been steadily stepping away from her, step by sneaky step until they’re on two opposing ends.

Right. She can’t handle another two and a half years of this.

“Aren’t we going to talk about it?”

Ethan continues to stare straight ahead. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Seriously? You know exactly what I mean.”

Silence.

“Eth- Doctor Ramsey. You can’t pretend you don’t know what I mean. Come on, you can’t even look at me.”

“That’s not true.”

“Isn't it? Then why are you staring at the control panel like it’s one of your patients?”

He shifts on his feet, and if she weren’t so frustrated, she’d find the gesture adorable.

Okay, maybe she still does. Just a little bit. But not enough to distract her from her mission.  

“We kissed.”

His throat bobs. “And we agreed it was a mistake, so I don’t see the point in talking about it.”

“Because if you keep being weird about it, everyone will know something happened. That’s kind of the opposite of why you walked away, isn’t it?” She puts a hand on his arm and… does she imagine the slight shudder that rocks him? “Ethan.”

He exhales. “You are… correct.”

“Oh, wow. I didn’t think I’d ever hear you say those words out loud. I didn’t know you were capable of thinking those words.”

“Casey.” With a strangled laugh, Ethan turns to look at her. “Don’t push it.”

“Can’t blame a girl for having a little fun.”

He ignores her. “You are correct, of course. My behavior towards you needs to remain the same as… before.”

“Perhaps not quite the same. I wouldn’t mind if you forgot to chew me out now and then.”

“I thought you wanted me to act normal.”

“How about normal-lite?”

He laughs. She tries not to melt at the sound. “Let’s go with normal and see what happens.”

“Deal.”

She smiles at him. He smiles back.

After a moment, it occurs to her that they’re just… staring at each other, their smiles having fallen without her notice. Her eyes drop to his mouth, and she can tell from his soft inhalation that he noticed.

“Casey…” Their faces are inches apart, and she vaguely wonders which one of them leaned in first. “I…”

The elevator doors open again, and four people walk in. Ethan jumps back, his back firmly against the wall, his gaze falling anywhere but on Casey.

She runs a frustrated hand through her hair.

So much for normal.

#ethan x casey #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey #casey valentine #open heart #playchoices #30 drabbles in 30 days