cvldbones

[cvldbones]

@kingdonmicrofic Day 25: Sweat (347) / no warnings :)

Mel notices things about people, little things, uncomfortable things. She used to struggle with it a lot more, her filter, the things she’d say out loud that most people would keep to the insides of their skulls.

She notices little things about her coworkers, all of them. She notices the way Santos works her jaw the first time they hear Robby screaming from across the room. She notices the way Whitaker mutters the Lord’s Prayer under his breath at the very edge of a patient’s room when he thinks she’s out of earshot. She notices the way Collins lays a hand on her stomach unthinkingly throughout the morning, the way she stops right before she disappears.

She notices a lot about Langdon. She attributes this to the fact that they work together the most of all her colleagues, at least at first. She’ll find other explanations in time, but for now she just knows fifteen hours standing next to him.

Dr. Langdon has a lot of little quirks, details that Mel’s brain focuses in on, files away next to her memories of her mother’s pill regimen and details about the French Revolution she learned in AP World History.

His ring is too large. His hands shake. He blinks like it’s an inconvenience to stop looking at her. And he does, look at her that is. He looks at her a lot.

The sweating thing is one of those details she can’t quite keep inside. She sees it, how it starts to bead at his hairline, how it slicks down the hair around his temples and frees the follicles from the pomade he put in this morning. She watches a droplet of it roll down the vein in his neck, watches his tongue poke out and swipe at what’s collected on his upper lip during a complex procedure.

Mel notices, is all. And if, in a few weeks, she wakes up with her own sweat soaking her nightshirt and the feeling of his sweaty hair still fresh in her mind, she’ll chalk it up to a stress dream.

[cvldbones]

Prompt: sweat Word count: 372 AO3 link

Mel enjoyed a wide range of music. It was one of the many things that Frank loved about her. 

There were quiet moments where she listened to classical music as she read through case studies and articles. While other moments required slick lyrics and a pounding base, meant to empower. For cleaning, she preferred the twang of Shania. And when the kids were over, instrumental versions of pop songs and classic rock often played throughout the house. 

(“It's a win-win,’ she said. “They enjoy it, and I don’t pull my hair out listening to whatever is this generation’s version of Barney.”)

Needless to say, not much could surprise Frank when it came to Mel’s eclectic musical tastes. Or so he thought.

They tried to sync up their shifts, beneficial not only because they worked well together–often able to communicate by glance alone–but because it allowed them time outside the hospital for themselves. The structure was good for them both, allowing them time to decompress, which in turn enabled them to be more present both for their family, as well as when they walked back through the doors of PTMC. 

But when their shifts didn’t line up?

“Sweat, baby, sweat, baby sex is a Texas drought…”

Frank stilled and watched as Mel continued to sing along to the music that was coming through her headphones as she balled up pairs of socks, already laid out in matching sets on top of the dryer. 

His eyes roved over her body, following every movement of her hips as they shimmied side to side with the beat of the music, unheard to his ears. 

God, his wife was a fucking smokeshow. 

Not wanting to startle her, he coughed and then tread with heavy footsteps behind her until he could press up against her back.  He planted a kiss on the bare skin of her shoulder, only covered by the sports bra that she was wearing as a top. With one hand, he leaned forward and supported his weight against the washer.

And the other hand? Well, it spanned across her pelvis, pulling her towards him. He ground his scrub-covered erection into her ass, making them both groan. Animalistic.

“Hey baby, should we do it like mammals?”

@kingdonmicrofic

[cvldbones]

@kingdonmicrofic day 25 | sweat | 372 words

Frank Langdon is probably the worst man alive.

He's also almost legally divorced — that's a very important factor, he swears.

And he's currently sweating bullets.

Oh. Also, he's in love with Mel King. That's the most important factor here.

It's all related:

Bad guy. Basically divorced. Sweating profusely.

Hopelessly loves a woman who happens to be engaged to another man. A man who, Frank can admit, is a good guy.

Nice.

Steady.

“Maybe a little… boring?” Mel had admitted quietly, months ago, late one night alone in the staff lounge. It sounded like it physically hurt her to say the words, even to him.

“Boring can be okay,” he'd told her, honestly not sure if he was lying or not. “Boring isn't going to suddenly run off and become addicted to drugs or something.” Or fall in love with someone who isn't his wife, he didn't add. That part kind of went without saying.

Mel hadn't laughed.

She had, however, kissed him that night, in the dark of the parking garage. He'd been right in the middle of rapidly ranting about a study he'd read, maybe the most boring thing he'd ever told her.

Her hands tangled through his hair, her mouth opened under his, and he'd been gone, adrift out on an island where, from that minute on, he knew only Mel King could ever reach him. He'd cupped her jaw, swallowed her gasp, and pulled her closer.

And for like seventy-five heated seconds, she was entirely his and intensely, irrevocably, he was hers.

“I just… needed to know what it would feel like,” she'd whispered, her forehead pressed against his chest. He'd run his hand along her back slowly and pressed a shaky kiss to the top of her head.

“How'd it feel?”

She'd laughed. “Not boring.”

It hadn't gone any further than that long kiss in the dark.

And it had never happened again.

But the memory still colors every choice he makes, right up to this very moment.

Mel catches his eye and smiles, slightly shakily, as she walks by, adorned in a simple, white dress.

She doesn't look at him again until the preacher asks if anyone has any objections.

And she only looks because he stands.

[cvldbones]

day 23: barbecue | 500 words | rated g: angst

for the @kingdonmicrofic challenge

Mel turns the tap on with a shaky hand. The water’s cold, biting, exactly what she needs. When she looks up from the sink, a haggard face stares back at her in the mirror. Sunken eyes and red cheeks, now dripping with the water she’d splashed on them.

Get it together, Mel. It’s not his fault he doesn’t like you.

She’s not even sure why she’d come today. Frank had invited her at the last minute—only yesterday, even though he’d invited Samira days ago. Even Trinity—of all people—had gotten the invite before Mel.

Hey, he’d said, stepping into South 15. Abby and I are having a few people over tomorrow. Probably gonna break the grill out. We’d love to have you, if you’re not working.

She wouldn’t be working. He’d know that, if he checked the schedule. Or talked to her at all. Which he hadn’t done, not really, since coming back.

She’d been so excited for him to come back. To have a friend at work again. And then, nothing. A polite smile, wave, yeah, good to be back, I’ve been going crazy at home, too many cooks in the kitchen, y’know, with Abs and the kids. His shiny gold ring was all she could see, until he’d pulled gloves on and disappeared down the hall.

They hadn’t worked any cases together in the five weeks he’d been back. He’d been relegated to chairs, but even when Robby would sigh, give in, and pull him onto a trauma, he never joined the ones Mel was on. She was trying not to take it personally.

But today. She’d shown up in light denim shorts and a yellow tank top. She’d brought watermelon, and peaches for grilling. She’d armed herself with a smile. It hadn’t stayed on for long.

Everyone at the barbecue had their person. Abbot and Samira, Trinity and Dennis, Cassie and Javadi, Frank and Abby. The pairs spent most of the afternoon together, in their own corners of the backyard. Then the sun had dipped low, and they’d all gathered around the dinner table. Frank’s arm hooked over Abby’s shoulders.

Mel should’ve faked an illness hours ago, but she’s still here—in their powder room, willing the tears away.

“Mel?” his voice comes through the door, and Mel sucks in a breath. “Everything okay?”

It’s the first time he’s asked in weeks, and that hurts most of all.

She opens the door slowly. “Just needed a minute,” she says, “but I’m good.”

He nods, extends a hand. There’s a hoodie in his grip, one she hadn’t noticed before. “It’s getting a little chilly— thought you might need this.” He gives her a look, one she can’t really read. 

“That’s okay,” she says. “I’m probably gonna head out. Becca’s waiting at home.”

He opens his mouth, looks like he’s going to say something. Offer me a ride, Mel pleads. Tell me to stay. Anything.

But, just like every other time in the last five weeks, nothing.

[cvldbones]

#when you use the same tactic to ignore your parents while they lecture you about school (x)

[cvldbones]

Saw this on Instagram and it's giving biblically accurate Mel & Langdon

[cvldbones]

I Do Know Some Things, Richard Siken

[cvldbones]

@kingdonmicrofic Day 25: Sweat (469 words)

Trinity Santos never understood men. On any given day, her feelings towards the whole gender could oscillate between confusion, rage, indifference, and annoyance, but today, her main feeling was disgust.

From where she sits at the central nurses’ station, she can see her colleague, Dr. Frank Langdon, coming in for his morning shift. Things were better between them thanks to his rehab stay paired with the ten page apology letter he wrote for her when he came back to work, but his current state has tarnished a bit of the goodwill she feels towards him.

He’s arrived to the hospital panting, wearing one of those ridiculous t-shirts with the sleeves and sides cut off and the tiniest pair of running shorts she thinks she’s ever seen. He’s also positively dripping in sweat.

“Langdon, come on,” Dana chides. “Have some decency!”

“Just a quick ten this morning, Dana!” he brags, still struggling for breath. “I’m almost back up to a half.”

“You’re almost going to get on my last nerve before seven in the morning,” she replies. “Now go take a shower; I can smell you all the way over here.”

The man grins, and Trinity grimaces. She nudges Mel King sitting beside her.

“Men are just gross,” she says. When her friend doesn’t respond, she looks up to find Mel staring slack-jawed at Langdon. She’s completely frozen in her chair, pen stilled above the note she was writing, face growing redder by the second.

“Mel?” Trinity questions again, and that manages to snap her out of it.

“I’m sorry,” Mel stammers. “Were…did you say something?”

Trinity smirks, her eyes flicking back and forth between the two of them. “No, nothing important.” She looks down and lowers her voice. “But, um…did you know that Langdon’s stopped wearing his wedding ring?”

Mel tenses, looking back at Langdon slyly. She clears her throat.

“How…how do you know that?”

“I worked with him over the weekend when you were off,” she tells Mel. “Dad bracelet was back, but gold ring was gone. All three days.”

Trinity notices the quick rises and falls of the other woman's chest as her breathing picks up.

“I just think,” Trinity continues, “maybe now you can have your shot, you know, if that’s what you want—“

“Thank you, Dr. Santos,” Mel interrupts in a loud voice, rising to her feet. “I will…see you later.”

She collects her papers and tablet and makes a beeline for the sweaty Langdon who’s still standing in the middle of the room chugging a Gatorade. He greets her happily, dumb puppy-dog smile on his face, as she shows him something on her tablet that Trinity knows she’s more than capable of handling herself.

She shakes her head and returns to her charting, somehow understanding less than she did before.

[cvldbones]

Kingdon Macrofic: Sweat

@kingdonmacrofic

WC: 3416

Disclaimer: Frank and Mel are very Grant and Alyssa coded to me. I'm so sorry.

“Hey, hey! Listen! This man ain’t touchin’ the bill tonight!” Jesse shouted over the excessive chatter, shaking Frank by the shoulders. “Your job, Frankosaurus, is to get FUCKED UPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!” 

Frank’s frat brothers all began whooping and cheering. He laughed and did a big chest bump with Jesse. This was good, tonight was going to be good. Tonight had to be good because he didn’t know what he’d do if it wasn’t.  

All his life, Francis “Frank” Robert Langdon III, had been lucky. His ma would tell anyone who would  listen that her son was “just gorgeous” and he was able to get out of trouble with his dimples, charming smile, and sparkling blue eyes. To his dad’s delight, Frank was a born athlete. There was no sport he couldn’t excel at. The mantlepiece at home was covered by medals and trophies. Track and Field, however, was his sport of choice and got him an incredibly generous scholarship to UPitt. 

It only made sense for him to join Epsilon Mu. After all, Frank was a fourth generation admission. His name had likely been written down before he was born. Most of the guys had been nervous about Frank, thinking he would be an asshole and act like he owned the house because of his background. However, he gladly participated in all new pledge activities without complaint. If anything, Frank laughed and made jokes with his fellow pledges, making their probation period more bearable. 

He became beloved in that house. Frank was always up for boyish trouble, never snitched, and always went at everything with two hundred percent energy. Everyone could count on Frank to make anything a blast. 

Until Abby Jensen broke up with him. 

The news rocked the Epsilon Mu house as though a benevolent ruler had died. Frank and Abby had begun dating in their first week of college. They won every single couple award and Frank won the title of Best Boyfriend in any social activity. Frank’s frat brothers couldn’t believe that any girl would dump Frank, especially Abby. Girls were crazy about him but Frank was completely loyal to her. He bought lavish gifts, had flowers delivered to her every week, and posted her constantly on Instagram with hearts and love-eyed emojis. 

Frank even told some of the guys that he planned on proposing to Abby on Graduation Day. But nearly four years together ended in less than four seconds. Frank got a short text message and was blocked on every social media platform. The girls in her sorority ignored and refused to look him in the eye. No answers, no chance for questions…just nothing. 

It was the first truly terrible thing to happen to Frank. Well, outside of his beloved Grandpa Frank dying when he was seven or his dog, Pepper, running away when he was ten. A sudden breakup with the love of his life wrecked him badly. He barely went to classes, got on academic probation, and his GPA took a bad nose dive. Even if Frank was legacy to Epsilon Mu, the low GPA could not be justified. He would get kicked out, plain and simple. 

His frat brothers must have been freaked out so they dragged him out to a place called Club Sweat. The name was kind of gross sounding but he understood the intention. Even if going to a club was the last place he wanted to go, it was decent of Donnie, Jesse, Mateo, Robby, and Jack to take care of his cover charge and treat him to free drinks all night. Frank vowed to get stupid drunk, take some sexy girl back to the house, and bounce back as if Abby hadn’t crushed his heart into dust. He'd be his old self after a wild night.

The club certainly lived up to its name. Frank nearly gagged at the scent of Axe Body Spray and Bath and Body Works Warm Vanilla mixed with drying and fresh sweat. His eyes watered but Jesse kept steering him inside. He rubbed his hands together. This was it. Frank loved the energy thrumming through the air. The laughter, the excitement, the music…he could feel the possibilities flow through him. Frank was young, hot, rich, and popular. Abby was a dumb bitch if she couldn’t see what she had. Guilt quickly filled him. No, that was mean. It was wrong of him to call Abby names like that, even in his head. Frank might not have looked the type but he had been raised to be respectful to girls. He still believed it was important to open doors, pull out chairs, carry heavy things, and understand that no means no. 

He sat in the VIP section near the bar, leaning back with his arms spread across the back of the booth. Frank scanned the dance floor, looking for a girl that made Abby look average. Impossible to do since Abby was the hottest girl Frank had ever dated and he had dated lots of girls before her. The guys all said that she was a better looking Kate Upton. His mom had already begun imagining how beautiful her grandchildren would look with Frank’s blue eyes and Abby’s blonde hair. 

Frank kept looking around and then the strangest thing happened to him. The club went completely silent in his mind. His brain stopped running at a million miles an hour. Only one thing stood out to him and he couldn’t nor did he want to look away. 

She sat alone at the bar, wearing a T-Shirt that said “In My Bookish Era”, beat-up looking Vans and yoga joggers. The girl had her phone out, watching something with intense focus. She didn’t have a stitch of makeup on and her hair was in a tight and clean braid. She wore oversized rounded glasses. It almost scared him, how this insane and wild thunderbolt hit him out of nowhere. One look at her and Frank was gone. 

She must have sensed someone looking at her because she turned her head and their eyes met. His fingers tingled and his chest went tight when she ducked her head and looked away. It would be a dream to care for her, listen to her talk, hold her hand, comfort her when she cried, and make her smile. 

Frank shook his head. This was ridiculous. This girl was…well, she wasn’t exactly his type. And Frank definitely had a type. He loved when girls went all out with hair, makeup, and clothes. The ones that took a lot of pride in their appearance, kept up with him when he hit the gym, and fun-loving and care-free as he was ticked his boxes. Frank used to think it was so cute when Abby would eagerly show him her weekly mani/pedi or considered shopping to be on par with professional sports. 

So what was happening to him to think that girl, who looked nothing like Abby, was proof that angels were real? Abby was hot, sure, but this girl…this stranger looked like a painting.

Frank didn’t know why he was thinking of it now but in one of his elective Art History classes, the professor showed them a painting called Sistine Madonna by one of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle painters. He couldn’t remember if it was Leonardo or Michaelangelo but it didn’t matter. It was a famous painting but he was only familiar with it because of the two bored baby angels that he saw in his favorite Italian restaurant’s bathroom. Frank had never seen the full painting but there was a woman on the right hand side, below the Virgin Mary, that had an expression that pulled him right in.

Frank didn’t pretend that he was a deep thinker or particularly high-brow but that woman's face moved him. The soft, gentle, and kind look was not one he saw very often but it was real and even more beautiful on that girl at the bar. It drew him in like a moth to flame. 

His feet decided it was time to go over to the bar. She looked up at him curiously, “Um…hello?” 

“Who are you?” 

Shit…that was weird. And rude. Frank didn’t know if it was too late for him to fix it. Usually he was way smoother with girls with funny and flirty pick up lines. This girl had his head swimming. He hadn’t even drunk anything yet and he felt unsteady around her. 

“Hi, I’m Melissa but everyone calls me Mel.” 

Frank could have said many other things but again, this girl did something to him that made him stupid. Well, stupider than he was already. 

“Nice to meet you, Mel, I’m in love.”

Her eyes went wide. Oh shit…oh, fuck, what the hell was that?! Jesus Christ, what was he thinking to just blurt out something so horrific? 

But Mel laughed. Not in a cruel or dismissive way but with genuine amusement. “Uh…OK, I think you’ve had a little too much too drink or you have me confused with someone else.” 

“No. I don’t. I wasn’t looking for nobody but you’re here. Real and in front of me.” 

And she completely locked his heart down with that little duck of her head and the way her cheeks flushed. Shit, what had he even seen in Abby when Mel existed? 

“Do you want to sit down?” 

Mel pulled a barstool out and gestured to it. Maybe he was too into this stranger because it made his pulse leap that someone would pull out a chair for him. 

“Whatcha watching?” 

“Steven Universe.” 

“What’s that?”

Mel turned her phone to him and he saw it was one of those newer Cartoon Network shows. He hadn’t watched Cartoon Network in a minute. He was more into sports, Breaking Bad, or The Office. 

“Good show?”

OK, it was official, Mel had to stop that shy smile and ducking of her head or she would kill him. “Very. I know it’s a cartoon and all that but it’s very well-written and it’s sophisticated in its approach to themes like family, love, and healthy relationships.” 

“Wow, you sound smarter than half the professors I’ve got.” Frank smiled. 

“Oh, that can’t be true. They’ve all studied their field of expertise for years and have advanced degrees. It would be unfair to say that I was smarter when I haven’t finished my Bachelors yet.” 

Frank’s silence must have bothered her because her face fell a little. “Sorry…I didn’t mean to be weird. It was really nice of you to come talk to me but you don’t have to anymore. If you made a bet with your friends, you can say you won. Nice to meet you.”  Mel turned her back but Frank’s hand shot out, tapping her lightly on the shoulder. 

“No. No, there’s no bet. And you’re not weird. Well, maybe a little but in a totally cute way!” 

“Sorry?”

Frank nervously ran a hand through his hair. He felt sweat beading on his forehead and on the palms of his hand. Fuck, why was he so nervous? Why was he so bothered to see Mel look sad?

“I guess I’m not really used to seeing girls at the club watching TV on their phones.”  He trailed off, unsure how to proceed in describing her appearance. Unfortunately, Mel picked up on it. 

“Or who look like me?” She asked glumly. 

“No! No, there’s nothing wrong with the way you look! I swear!” Frank babbled. “You’re the finest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.” 

Her eyes still looked sad but she gave him that little smile again. “Come on, you don’t have to lie. It’s sweet of you but it’s not necessary.” 

“Not lying. I promise, I’m not. You don’t know me or anything but I swear on my ma that I’m telling the truth.” 

Mel blinked, looking adorably owlish with those big glasses. “R-really?” 

“For sure. You’re bad as hell.” 

Mel scratched the back of her neck. “Judging by your tone and facial expression, I assume that these are positive things, contrary to the actual words having adverse meanings.” 

Oh no, Frank thought miserably. This girl was going to think he was beneath her. They were far too different. She was clearly very, very, very smart. Clubbing didn’t seem like her thing. In fact, it looked like she was drinking a Coke. She watched deep and insightful shows like this Steven Planet thing. What would she see in a guy like him? She must have thought he was dumber than rocks, shallow and pedantic (he learned that word from Family Guy), and worst of all…like he was pulling a prank on her. He had come here to get stupid. Would that mean she would think less of him? What would his friends say if they saw him chatting up a girl like this? What would her friends think of him? 

“Sorry, do you still want to sit down? I can buy you a drink since you’ve been nice to me.” 

“Um, yeah. Yeah, I’d love to sit. But lemme hook you up. Can’t have a lady buy first.” 

Mel actually giggled this time and Frank nearly missed the barstool when he tried to sit down. Goddamn, Mel owned him. He would follow her around like a lovesick puppy for the rest of his life if she smiled and looked at him like that again. 

“You’re very chivalrous. Why don’t you buy mine and I’ll buy yours? Does that sound amenable…sorry, what’s your actual name?”

“Frank Langdon.”

Frank had to start reading the dictionary now. If he wanted to keep talking to Mel, he needed to keep up. 

Just as he predicted, Mel was indeed drinking a Coke and she bought him a gin and tonic. She put her phone between them so they could watch the pilot episode of the Steve Globe show but they didn’t actually do much watching. 

Frank learned that Mel was a pre-med major, getting ready to take her MCATS in the fall of next year. She wasn’t drinking tonight because she was the DD for a few of the girls she lived with. “I just hate the idea of them being taken advantage of in any way. It's more for my benefit to make sure they all come home safely. So that’s why I’m here…looking like this.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with the way you look. And you’re a really nice person, Mel. It’s…it’s really cool that you’d care about your roommates like that.” 

The more he talked to Mel, their differences couldn’t be more apparent but he was falling harder and harder for her. She really was like the woman in the painting, the soft smile and kind vibe she gave off. Frank liked that she was interesting, so unpredictable when he thought he understood women pretty well. Mel wasn’t afraid of being direct and blunt but she wasn’t rude or snobbish. Not once did Mel look at him like he was an idiot because she used a word he didn’t understand. 

Mel’s friends came stumbling over to the bar, clearly wasted as fuck. Mel only smiled cheerfully and asked brightly, “Did you have a good time? I hope you did!” 

One girl threw an arm around Mel. “You’re so fuckin’ sweet, Mellington. God, you love me so much! You’re such a girl’s girl!” Mel hugged the girl back. Frank was blown away by what he just saw. He would have thought that she would have been judgmental and harsh towards the drunken girl, lecturing her on being sloppy and wasted. Mel did nothing of the sort. She just came to make sure her friends were safe and happy. 

They dragged Mel off before Frank could ask her for her number. He didn’t get her last name so all he had was Mel who liked Steven Universe (she corrected him when he called it Stevie World). He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants, His life just changed and he missed his chance. If Abby broke up with him because he was dumb, she was right to have done it.

It was his last semester of college when he found Mel again. Only…his heart crumbled when he saw her. Mel was sitting on the shuttle, wiping her eyes and her lips quivered. She kept furiously wiping her eyes but they were red-rimmed and wet. Frank got on and quietly sat next to her. He said nothing, not wanting to embarrass her. He pulled out a pack of tissues and handed them to her. 

“I’m…I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to cry like this. It’s not your job to console–Oh! Frank? Is that you?” 

“In the flesh. It’s been a bit. You OK?” 

She let out a shuddering breath. “No. No, I’m afraid not. I had a horrible day.” 

“What’s wrong or you don’t wanna talk about it?” 

“M-my…my mom died a few months ago. I just miss her so much and I feel so lonely. I tried calling my sister and she isn’t answering. I have no one to talk to right now and I’m–” Mel burst into tears again. Frank didn’t know what to say. Sorry sounded too small and trite (he had started reading more). He couldn’t say he knew how she felt because his parents were alive and well. Frank had loads of friends he could hit up and people were always coming and going from the Epsilon Mu spot. Frank may not have understood but he was going to try. 

Silently, he slipped his hand in hers and held on tightly. Mel continued to cry softly but Frank just sat next to her, rubbing circles on the back of her hand with her thumb. When they pulled up to his stop, he reluctantly let go.  “This is me. You sure you’re OK? I can ride with you until you get to yours.” 

“OK.” 

Frank sat with Mel, holding her hand until it was her stop. She looked at him, still so beautiful even after crying badly. Even though Frank hadn’t seen Mel since last semester, right before winter break, he hadn’t forgotten her. In that time, he watched every Steven Universe episode, went down several Wikipedia rabbit holes on genetic abnormalities (what Mel was interested in studying in medical school) and started reading when he would do his cardio. 

“Can I call you sometime?” Mel asked. “I forgot to get your number the last time we met. I’m sorry.” 

“I’m sorry too. I really wanted to hang out again.” 

Mel offered a watery smile, “I wanted to tell you that I’ve been watching your track and field highlight reel that came out last month. I think you can beat Lee Mcrae’s record.” 

God, could he find a more amazing girl who was studying up on track and field for him? Even Abby couldn't be bothered by his obsession over it. But this show of support touched him completely.

“Can I have your phone?” Frank asked faintly, certain he was going to pass out at any moment. He entered his number in. “Hit me up anytime. We can talk whenever you want.” 

Mel bit her lip. “Can I–”

“Huh?” 

“Can I take you to dinner? Please?”

His neck and face went hot. “On the next date. Let me get this one. After all, I’m trying to be carnivorous.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Uh…shit…that wasn’t it. What’s that word for guys that are nice to girls?” 

“You mean chivalrous?”

“Yeah, that one! Fuck, that was dumb, huh?”

“Not at all. You were close.” Mel smiled. “It’s been hard for me to keep my head straight when I talk to you.” 

Fuck…was it too soon to ask her to marry him? Yeah, probably. But he had a feeling he would someday. 

For years after that, nobody who knew Frank or Mel could make sense of what they saw in each other. His frat bros and parents were beyond confused. Mel’s grandmother and sister thought Frank had come to the wrong house when he first came to meet them. But they defied expectations when they got married after a year of dating. Frank proudly told everyone that opposites attract, and as Mel had told him, like magnets did. 

Yes, Frank and Mel were the odd couple in their neighborhood and friend circle but they were also the most in-love couple too. Stranger things had happened, but not really.

https://youtu.be/gYAqTB64Wik?feature=shared

https://youtu.be/w6aJA_D2VO0?feature=shared

[cvldbones]

when ur best friend is also your boss AND your dad!!!!!!

[cvldbones]

I read Rivers & Roads today and WOW I was hooked! The world building was truly incredible, I haven't been able to stop thinking about it lol

ah thank you so much!!!

[cvldbones]

quick kingdon sketch for @melissalangdon <3

[cvldbones]

i find it really fun to explore at what point mel's desire for connection might override mel's (perceived) ethical code

[cvldbones]

once they get comfortable around each other, mel becomes very touchy, and she develops a tendency to grab langdon's hand absentmindedly, pinching the tight skin on the back of it, tracing over his knuckles back and forth, even taking off his ring and making it spin on whatever surface is available. like right after a bad case, when they’re both taking five in the break room, sitting on the floor as they do, with frank’s hand on her knee; mel traces his fingers one by one, presses his short nails into her own fingertip, takes off his ring and plays with it, reads the little "abigail" engraving on the inside of it, puts it on all her fingers trying to see if it fits her even though it doesn’t even fit him properly. frank lets her, says some soothing words to her, and then just fixes his eyes on her hands until mel decides she’s had enough and slides the ring back onto his finger, just in time for someone to come barging in, saying they need them for an incoming trauma.

[cvldbones]

day 24: fireworks | 240 words | rated t: emotional infidelity

for the @kingdonmicrofic challenge

They’re halfway to Abby’s parents’ house—a Spanish-style manor in San Diego—when it pops up on the rental car’s screen: 1 new text from Mel King.

“The dog sitter?” Abby asks, watching as another new text from Mel King notification appears. “Why is the dog sitter texting you?”

Mel could be texting for any number of reasons, many of them innocent: related to the health and well-being of the Langdons’ golden retriever, or about an issue at work, or because Becca said something funny that he needed to hear, Frank. No matter what it is, he won’t be showing Abby. Mel texted him, not his wife.

He shrugs, turns left. “Probably just letting us know Coco’s doing okay.”

After pulling into the manor’s stone-paved driveway, Frank unlocks his phone. He’d been partially correct.

Her first text is a photo of Coco laying across Mel’s bare legs. She and Coco are snuggled up on her couch, and a candle burns on the coffee table in the background. It’s late in Pittsburgh now—close to 9pm. 

The second text is a caption: baby doesn’t like the fireworks. come back, please. But Coco’s peacefully asleep in the photo, unbothered by the noise outside Mel’s window. 

And Frank doesn’t believe in a god, not anymore, but he silently thanks whoever developed Apple CarPlay—for not reading his texts out loud—and sends a quick text back: miss you too, baby. be home soon.

[cvldbones]

day twenty-four: firework

for @kingdonmicrofic | rated: m | word count: 491 | ao3 (cw step siblings)

It’s his least favorite day of the year. 

Well, it’s one of them. He hates the summer—he prefers hockey and the snow and being bundled up. He gets hot too quickly and the southern humidity keeps him inside their tiny house the majority of June. 

It’s his least favorite day of the year. 

Until his step sister comes home. 

She was supposed to be spending the summer with her dad but something happened, something she refused to talk about even though he asked. 

Mel spent a few days in her room until they were all forced out together to the backyard for the annual Langdon family Fourth of July Barbecue™️ complete with illegal fireworks blown off by his uncle Jimmy. 

His dad always lets him drink during the party and despite the storm cloud hovering Mel’s head, he coaxes a few ciders her way. 

By eleven his family is properly intoxicated, as is his step mother, fallen into the fold all too easily. He takes that as his cue to drag Mel up into his room, door locked, breaths shared as they laid together on his twin bed. 

“Are you gonna tell me what happened?” he asks. 

“You remember the account my dad opened for my college tuition?” she says quietly, and Frank nods against his pillow, taking her hand in his. “He spent it. He um, I guess he went to the casino and just… it’s gone. I won’t be able to go back to UVA in the fall.” 

“Oh, sweetheart,” he sighs. College had become their safe haven, the one place people knew them by name only, social media accounts private, family ties non-existent. “We’ll figure it out. Or we’ll drop out. Rent a van, fuck off across the country, I don’t care.” 

“Frank.” 

He shifts forward so their foreheads knock together and he breathes her in, nose nudging against hers. 

“Everyone’s home,” Mel mutters. Not like that had really stopped them before, not like she wasn’t shifting her hips towards him, instead of away. 

“They’re drunk, sis,” he reminds her. “Come on, let me touch you a little. I’ll take care of you.” 

Because he always did, didn’t he? His father had been very clear the first time their families all came together—this is Mel, Frankie, your new sister, you watch over her, you hear? She’s your responsibility when me and her Ma ain't around. 

Despite only being a year older, he took it all to heart at thirteen. Watched over her, fought off bullies for her in their neighborhood, tried to help her with her homework even though she was always smarter, drove her to and from school when he got his license and his truck, helped her lose her virginity when she asked. 

As he slides his hand underneath the band of his sister’s shorts he doubts this is what his father meant. 

But she was his responsibility after all, what else was he supposed to do? 

[cvldbones]

‘Santos has a brother?’ + inspired by x and x.