Shonda teased us last week with all that Slexie interaction only to give us nothing this episode (insert tears here) but I enjoyed Lexie and Amelia's friendship, and, despite what I know to be true, I have hopes for the remainder of the season.
JUST ONE ACCIDENTAL 'OOPS I SLEPT WITH LEXIE GUESS I HAVE TO BREAK UP WITH WHATS-HER-FACE', SHONDA! Is that really so much to ask for?
P.S.- I have the best readers, prove me right and review? LOVE YOU GUYS!
Little Grey's Anatomy
Though she liked to think she was a particularly logical person, Lexie Grey couldn't deny that she had a multitude of irrational moments. At the present moment, curled up and bawling in the corner of a supply closet in the hospital, Lexie would say that this was one of those moments.
The day started off as normal as usual, well, as normal as breakfast and sharing a bathroom with you ex-boyfriend could be. Which, these days was Lexie's new normal.
She had brushed her teeth, shaved her legs, and got dressed in her typical jeans and a red sweater—normal. She poured herself a cup of coffee, made herself a bowl of cereal, and then realized, after filling a bowl with dry corn flakes, that they were out of milk—normal. She rode in the passenger's seat of Meredith's car while Alex bickered with April in the back seat and Jackson stayed quiet—normal. She walked into the hospital, talking about Zola with her sister, and got a large coffee from the coffee cart by the elevator—normal.
So much normality, so much routine, how was Lexie supposed to know she would soon be hyperventilating because of something so small, something so uncontrollable, and something so seemingly ordinary.
As she brought the large cup of coffee to her lips, whilst about to take a small sip of the hot liquid, Lexie saw the outline of the plastics attending, her plastics attending, by the elevator. And for that brief second she let her thoughts swarm around him. She let her mind, her memory, and her emotions feel the intensity that was Mark Sloan. And in that second, in that briefest of seconds, she forgot about her coffee.
The rest of the events that took place in that moment, now just seemed like burning haze.
She took a gulp out of her new cup, a gulp that was too large, too hot, and way too much. She choked. She tried to breathe without spitting the coffee out of her mouth. She forced the liquid down as her eyes watered. She felt her next movement simultaneously with her first breath.
Lexie Grey hiccupped.
Lexie's hands immediately shot to her mouth as her coffee fell to the floor. The cup hit the tile; the lid popped off and rolled across the linoleum, falling to a halt at Mark's feet. The brown liquid splashed onto the ground, onto surrounding walls, and onto the two Grey sisters' clothes. But Lexie didn't notice, nor did she notice, much less care about, the entirety of the now silent, but still decently populated hospital lobby, staring at the young surgeon and the scene she was causing. Lexie was simply waiting, standing stock-still, anticipating the next dreaded convulsion of her body, the desperate gasp for air.
It happened again. And again. And then once more.
It seemed that the more panicked she made herself, the faster she breathed, and the more abundant the hiccups became.
Without thinking or acknowledging any of the onlookers, including her sister and her boyfriend, she ran.
Before she could even comprehend the movement of her legs and the direction her feet were taking her, she had already sprinted up the stairs to the third floor and had found the nearest supply closet. She opened the door and shut it forcibly behind her, before pressing her back against the opposite wall and sinking to the floor.
She was sure it had been only a few minutes since the incident, but Lexie had felt like she'd been trapped in her own mind for hours, days even, before she heard a faint knock at the door.
"Can I come in?" She heard a deep, husky voice ask.
Lexie chuckled in spite of herself, "It's a closet, Mark." She stated, slightly amused.
As the door opened slowly, the brief moment of humor and comfort was gone. She let out another hiccup and the tears welled up in her eyes once more.
She curled back into a ball and again began the onslaught of rapid breathing as a cascade of tears rolled down her face, "God, why am I such a freak?" Lexie asked shakily, punctuating the end of her sentence with another horrid hiccup.
Mark gave her a small, sympathetic smile, though he knew Lexie's eyes couldn't see it under the cover of her hands, and sat down beside her. The second he placed his arms around her, she turned immediately into his embrace. He kissed the top of her head softly and sighed into her brown hair.
Rubbing her arms gently, Mark whispered softly, "You're not a freak, Lex."
His words and another hiccup brought on a new wave of tears, "Then—hiccup—then why am I crying because of—hiccup—a stupid case of the hiccups?" She asked desperately, clutching his hand in her own, moving her body as close to his as possible, dying to feel his warmth and his comfort, instead of these horrific emotions that were tearing at her insides.
"Because," Mark began, pulling Lexie completely into his lap, letting her rest her head against his chest, and allowing his entire body to enclose her own. "Because you're human and you feel things like empathy and sadness and longing. It's okay to be scared, Lex. It's okay to miss your mom. And it's okay for you to cry because of a stupid case of the hiccups."
She shivered at the intensity of his words, he held her tighter. She would've made a comment about the maturity and wisdom of his explanation, but she was too wrapped up in her own current dilemma. She took a few deep breaths, calming herself in his arms. She hiccupped again, but this time she held back the tears and found her voice. "But it makes me insane, because it's insane and irrational to be afraid of hiccups. I have hiccup phobia." She shook her head animatedly and small wisps of her hair brushed his cheeks, "I find myself grieving my mother's death, after all this time, and I'm scared of the normal bodily function that was associated with her final days. What is that?" Lexie asked exasperatedly.
Mark didn't answer right away, he knew her question was asked rhetorically, but he couldn't help but immediately think of the reasoning.
What is that?
He knew what it was. It was the same thing that drew him back to the woman in his arms time and time again. It was the thing that made everything seem so complicated yet so sensible. It was what made his mind race at the very mention of her name, and his heart pound at the very thought of her. It was the meaning in the madness. It was what made them work, as human being, as doctors, and as a couple.
"Love." He stated simply. She pulled her head away from his now damp shirt, the redness in her eyes seemed to make her irises burn a little brighter than usual, turning them into a hazel color that he only saw on rare occasions. "It's love, Lex. Just because she's gone, doesn't mean you've forgotten about her. You don't forget the ones you love, and no matter how hard you try, you'll never be able to fully move on." Her bright, burning, hazel eyes softened and she brought her free hand, as the other was still tightly enclosed in his, to rest against his cheek gently, appreciatively; lovingly. "It doesn't mean you can't be happy," he whispered.
Lexie bit her lip as Mark brushed the remaining water streaks from her cheeks, "You make me happy." She stated softly, finally allowing herself a smile.
His mind was spinning with words he should say, words he should scream. Words that conveyed how he truly felt, words that asked her to never leave him again, words that expressed what she meant to him, what they, together, as a couple, meant to him. But at the look in her eyes and the healing of her smile, the words died in his mouth. It was too soon, and the last thing he wanted to do, the last thing he could handle was pushing her away again.
Instead, he pressed his lips softly against hers and silently prayed that, one day, he would be able to say all the things he had always wanted to.
They lost themselves and found each other in that one small, simple kiss. The compassion and the content and the comfort that came when they were together; it blanketed them in their embrace. It was the most fleeting of touches, the briefest of kisses, but the power it held was inexplicable.
She was the first to pull away, with the smile on her face growing considerably larger, and her features mirroring joy as well as surprise, "Oh my God," she whispered with a hint of excitement.
Mark smirked, though he knew her words were probably not meant to describe their kiss, he couldn't help but make a comedic jab at her timing, "You know, I get that a lot."
Lexie raised an eyebrow at his joking and cocky words, "A lot?"
Mark shrugged, "Just from my pure appearance. I walk into a room, it lights up. You know how it goes."
She rolled her eyes, the smile still playing on her lips, "Wow," she stated as she made a move to get up, out of his lap. Her hand finally freeing itself from his.
He only held her tighter, refusing to let her leave his arms, "You know—"
"Don't even say it!" Lexie laughed, settling once again in his arms. Though she knew they should leave the supply closet at least some time today, if he wasn't ready to let her go, she wasn't ready to let him go either. "I was talking about my hiccups, jackass." She clarified, "They're all gone."
"I must work magic," Mark said jokingly.
"How did you even ever become so egotistical?" Lexie asked in with a small chuckle, her face conveying mock awe. "You 'work magic'? Really?"
Mark kissed her forehead and placed one of his cool hands on each of her warm cheeks. He spoke with no superiority, no sarcasm, and absolutely no humor in his tone; his next words were full of seriousness and sentiment, "How else do you explain how I got you?"