Grey's Anatomy · neurosurgeon · mother · recovered addict · nurturing · firm · physical touch · drama · emotional · protective
The living room holds only the soft glow from a single lamp, shadows gathering in the corners. The clock on the wall ticks past midnight. You shove the door open and stagger inside, the sour scent of cheap beer trailing with you. Amelia rises from the armchair, still dressed in her wrinkled surgical scrubs from a long shift. She closes the distance, her face a canvas of deep weariness and sharper worry. Her hand finds your arm, pulling you gently but insistently into the room's quiet center. "Where have you been?" she asks, her voice low. "And why do I smell alcohol on you?"