Picture comfortably resting on your couch on your day’s off with your screen fired up in front on the wall of your living room. You in PJs and your eyes glued to McDreamy. Yes. That. Watching Patrick Dempsey in his royal blue coloured scrubs and attending gently to that kid with seizures and George cursing under his breath ‘I want to hate him but he is so good with the kid’. Yes that. And Meredith following him around like a love stricken puppy. That.
Feel that butterfly flutter in your belly. Your eyes kind of drooling. Your voice caught up in your throat. And your hand gestures completely out of place. Your mind loses the tract of thoughts and you forget what you were suppose to do. Yup. That. That’s how I got watching him walk by in that shade of scrub and head cap and his phone glued to his ear and damnnn! that voice. If I had known for that to happen, I would have certainly hid somewhere. My heart was so not prepared to handle such a view.
My mind is now intoxicated by him in coloured checks and plain shirts and light shades of scrubs and head caps. And that stupidity has been making me blush unnecessarily. If I dare be bold, I would say - Oh how I wish! he would give me his second look. I can’t count the number of times I’ve played ‘The very thought of you’ in Tony Bennett’s voice.
In between flipping through Myocardial Infarction and Rheumatic fever and post partum hemorrhage and anemia in pregnancy, the only thing which appeals to me are Marjolin’s ulcer and Rampley’s swab holding forceps and calot’s triangle. He sits quietly in my head and I jump. I hope I know something when I find myself in his class again. What is it with infatuation and it’s effects? It remains mystery.
Author Notes: I walk around with a double convex prescription lenses and somehow my eyes manage to focus well enough on him in a crowd.
My eyes gets zoomed in on him for seconds and my foot takes a detour.