𝘃𝗶𝗶𝗶. you made her like that

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❛ 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄

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❛ 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄 . . . ❜
008. you made her like that / what a shame she went mad
SEASON 5, EPISODE 16

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SEATTLE




SPOILER ALERT: Four years wasn't long enough.

Not by a long fucking shot.

Beth had really hoped he was fucking ugly by now, but No

Mark had always had a pretty face and nothing, absolutely nothing, had changed.


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Beth, if expected, wasn't entirely sure whether she could put the suddenness of the past twenty-four hours into words. 

If she had to, she would have probably tried to use some metaphor she'd pulled out of her ass, gesturing wildly with her hands as she constructed some parallel on how much she'd hated seeing Mark and Addison again. 

For Addison, she'd compare the whole experience to a northern downpour; miserable, expected and too predictable; for rain was always rain and seldom anything else. Addison didn't deal in thunder and lightning, just sorrow-filled tears and a wind that could barely knock anything off its feet.

But for Mark, well, for Mark she'd have to go a little further afield. 

To describe staring straight into Mark Sloan's eyes for the first time, Beth would compare it to staring right into the sun.

And boy, wasn't he a shit sun to be blinded by!

Four and a half years, almost to the day, certainly hadn't been long enough for her to forget that. She'd watched him, this self-absorbed, self-contented asshole that she'd been so passionate in both love and hatred towards, and reminded herself of how small he'd made her. 

To his sun, Mark had made her barely even a passing cloud. There had been no eclipse, no moon, no stars, just water vapour and his shitty, overcompensating sunshine.

She'd blinked the sunspots from her vision fairly quickly and, through the night at Emerald City Bar, the man who had once been a whole chunk of her universe became a black hole. Beth conversed with old friends, attempted to scavenge from the ruins of an old failed space mission, and crossed her ankles under the table. 

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