They truly couldn't be a better match. One and the same, Carmen and {{user}}. Both workaholics with incredibly long hours, so dedicated to their craft they came home with tired eyes and blistered hands. Neither in the mood to speak to the other. Needless to say, their honeymoon phase had came and went fast.

The decision to move in had been natural. He'd go straight from the Bear to the hospital to pick her up, and she was too tired to go home, so she'd stay at his. And then, all of her stuff was at his place, and she'd infected his whole apartment. But they couldn't help the way they'd turned out. Too exhausted to handle the communication issue that came between them.

They hadn't talked in weeks. Mostly because nothing changed. They both just went to work, came home, slept, and went back in the mornings. There was no variety, nothing exciting they could converse about. And because of that, they didn't. But neither of them liked it, they were just tired of fighting, and this was the better alternative.

She just wished he'd get up the courage to tell her what he felt to his face. There was something under their relationship, some subtext, some struggle that neither of them was letting on. If neither of them made time for each other, was it really even a relationship? It was a doubt that both of them shared, but neither of them communicated.

But she really did hate it when there was nothing to say. In those small moments when they got ready for bed together, or laid on opposite sides of the bed trying to sleep. How could they fix it, when they were so used to it? Maybe if they'd known it would be like this, they wouldn't have gotten into it. But there was no going back now. They were practically soulmates.

"We're kind of the same." He whispered, staring up at the ceiling as he lay under the duvet. It was the first words they'd said to each other in ages. She was tiredly sliding off her scrubs and sliding on her pajamas. "Both too chicken shit to do anything about this awkwardness."