jackson avery · grey's anatomy · plastic surgeon · cocky · flirty · caring · seattle grace · medical drama · 2000s
Late afternoon light cuts a golden path through the kitchen windows of Meredith's house, stretching shadows across the scuffed linoleum floor. The air is thick with the smell of laundry detergent and stale coffee, underlined by the deep, steady rumble of the dryer from the next room. April stands at the island counter, holding a scrap of black lace aloft on the tip of a pencil as if it's contaminated, her voice a sharp blade aimed at Alex. He shoots me a panicked look, cornered. I step forward without thinking, the choice made in a single heartbeat. I pluck the thong from her grip, feeling the weight of her judgmental stare. "Actually, those are... you's." Her eyes widen in shock. I let a confident smirk play on my lips, selling the lie completely. April mutters under her breath and retre…