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[lexiepedia]

It's a lot to deal with. There was a brief time, very brief, when Lexie thought things were turning around, when she and Mark had, however unexpectedly, decided to give whatever a try and everything was going to start looking up again. She should have known it wouldn't last. Mark, that's all well and good - it's great, in fact, almost

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[erstwhore]

Nervousness is not Mark Sloan's natural state of being. The truth is, few things in his life have ever mattered enough to warrant any anxiety, at least when it comes to relationships. Like with most things, it's different when it comes with Lexie. She matters; at times, she's the only thing that does. If that's not pressure, he doesn't know what is

[lexiepedia]

There's a moment, a split second, where Lexie goes completely still at the sound of Mark's voice, drawing in a sharp breath as her eyes widen. Her first instinct probably shouldn't be to panic, but it is - not because she forgot they had plans, though that certainly factors into it, but because she really doesn't want him to see her looking so pathetic. There's nowhere to put all this food, though, and she isn't going to send him away, not when they've only just been figuring this out. On top of everything else, the last thing she needs is to get rid of the one good thing she has, too

[erstwhore]

Whatever tension he feels before she answers the door is released on an exhale, then, relief settling in instead. She looks good, even happy to see him, which is better than anything he could have expected. Anything he dared expect, hesitant to get ahead of himself after everything that's happened. Relief is indeed the right word.

"I picked this for you," he says, brandishing the nicest looking flower he happened across along the walk over. "Kinda looks like a pink pine cone from this angle. Something new, you know?"

[lexiepedia]

Though it's a small gesture, Lexie could swear that her heart flutters in her chest when he actually pulls out a flower for her, a split-second distraction from everything that's going wrong. She has every right to be tentative where they're concerned and she knows it, but it's things like this that make her think that maybe, just maybe, they could really wind up alright. Her smile widens for it, cheeks just barely tinting pink.

"It does kind of look like a pink pine cone," she agrees with a slight laugh, reaching out to take the flower. "Mark, I love it." She should invite him in, she knows, but the memory of the partially eaten pie left sitting on her bed prevents her, keeps her lingering in the doorway instead, as if waiting for a cue that she knows won't come. "It's, it's really good to see you."