My succulents are gathered in clusters on the wide windowsill—bright ceramic pots of pebbled soil and green chunky leaves, glossy against the morning. It’s the one part of my apartment I never let get chaotic.
I make a coffee, then climb up onto the ledge of the deep windowsill and fold myself into the space. Knees drawn to my chest, arms looped around them, mug in one hand. The steam curls upwards, disappearing against the glare of my window.
Outside, the street is still. There are a few dog walkers, the odd runner, a truck idling two blocks away. It’s the kind of morning that feels like a breath held before the day begins.
The glass is cool against my temple as I lean gently into it, letting my eyes unfocus.
And there, faint but certain, arcing just above the skyline, is a rainbow. It’s not a perfect one. Broken a little in the middle, the colors faded around the edges, as though it didn’t fully mean to show up but did anyway.
I don’t react, just let my eyes rest on it. Study it. I haven’t seen one this bright in a while, which is maybe why my throat tightens the way it does. Because it’s here again, in the quiet. In the morning after.
With a deep inhale, I take a sip of my coffee and glance away, sitting tucked between my succulents and the cool of the glass, trying to find the shape of steadiness again.
My coffee is half-cold by the time I hear movement—a shift of blankets and a quiet creak from down the hall.
I continue to stare out the window, the faint arc of the rainbow still visible, blurred slightly now by condensation. The pad of his footsteps pauses in the doorway, replaced by the sound of him rubbing a hand over his face. Then a low, gravel-edged breath.
His voice is quiet and still sleep-warm when he speaks.
“You always sit in windows like a feral housecat, or is this just a post-trauma thing?”
I huff a laugh, but not quite a smile. He walks in slowly, in a way that feels thoughtful. His T-shirt stretches taut over his chest as he stretches, and his hair is rumpled, almost flattened on one side. The side he slept on all night, holding me.
He doesn’t ask what I’m doing as he moves to the couch and sits, knees wide, forearms braced on his thighs. His soft eyes skim the room, then land back on me.
“You want coffee?”
He shakes his head. “Not yet.”
“Anything else I can get you?”
“Yeah.” His gaze lingers. “You.”
He pats the space beside him once, then lets his hand fall again. I hesitate for a second, but then set the mug down carefully and slide off the windowsill, crossing the room in bare feet. When I reach the couch, he doesn’t wait, just tugs me down to him and wraps his arms around me without a word.
I sink into the space beside him and the cushions, letting myself be folded against him. His chest is warm, and his hands curve around my waist, threading through my fingers.
We sit like that for a long moment, with the press of his body and the sound of our breathing in the hush of the morning.
My eyes drift back to the window. The rainbow is still there, fainter now, barely visible. But still there. I tilt my head slightly, watching the fading curve of color through the glass.
“Wanna know something I’ve never told anyone?”
Reid hums his response, fingers weaving back and forth against mine.
“It’s stupid. I know it is,” I say softly. “I’m a surgeon, I don’t believe in signs. Except… I do. Just this one.”
I feel him gently nod, waiting for me to continue as his lips press gentle kisses to my shoulder.
“I saw a rainbow the day after my dad died. I hadn’t really processed what was happening. I was still in shock. Everything… the world just stopped, and I couldn’t make sense of it.”
I exhale through my nose, and his mouth pauses on my shoulder as the memory catches in my throat.
“But then I looked outside, and there it was. This fracture of color across the sky, as though it didn’t get the memo that everything had fallen apart.”
I pause, letting the warmth of his body seep into mine.
“I saw one again at his funeral. And then on the day I graduated high school. When my mom got remarried and had my sister, and again when I got accepted into med school. Another one during exams, when I almost gave up. And the week I was offered my placement with Moreno…”
