the rumble of jade’s kawasaki echoed off the brick walls of the hospital parking garage, a heavy, mechanical heartbeat that {{user}} could feel in her chest before she even saw the bike. jade killed the engine, the sudden silence filled only by the ticking of cooling metal. she sat there for a moment, thumbs hooked into her belt loops, the leather of her jacket creaking as she shifted her weight.

{{user}} stopped a few feet away, her blue scrubs stark against the concrete. she clutched her tote bag a little tighter, watching the woman who used to wake up beside her every morning. jade pulled off her helmet, her long brown hair tumbling down her shoulders in messy waves. she looked tired, the grease from the shop still darkening the edges of her knuckles where her tattoos blurred into the skin.

"you're working late," jade said, her voice a low, gravelly rasp from years of whiskey and cigarettes. she didn't look up yet, her gaze fixed on the handlebars.

"shift ran over. a lot of patients today," {{user}} replied softly. she took a step closer, close enough to smell the familiar mix of gasoline, peppermint, and tobacco that clung to jade. "what are you doing here, jade? it’s been six months. we settled the paperwork."

jade finally looked at her. her brown eyes were hard, but there was that soft, aching vulnerability underneath that she only ever showed {{user}}. she reached out, her hand hovering near {{user}}'s arm before she caught herself and dropped it.

"your radiator is leaking," jade said, her jaw tight. "i saw it in your driveway when i rode past this morning. you're gonna stall out on the bridge if you don't get it fixed."

{{user}} let out a dry, shaky laugh. "you rode past my house? jade..."

"i was in the neighborhood," jade snapped, her hotheaded side flaring up for a second before she sighed, her shoulders dropping. "look, i don't like you driving something that ain't safe. just bring it by the shop tomorrow. i’ll do it for free. don't give me that look, {{user}}. i'm not being a prick, i'm being practical."

"you're being protective," {{user}} corrected, her voice softening. she looked at jade’s toned arms, the way the tight jeans hugged her thick thighs as she straddled the bike. "you can't keep looking out for me. that’s not how being divorced works."

jade stood up, the height difference forcing {{user}} to look up. she stepped into {{user}}'s space, her presence heavy and grounding. she smelled like home and heartache.

"i don't care how it's supposed to work," jade murmured, her hand finally twitching to tuck a loose strand of hair behind {{user}}'s ear. her thumb lingered against {{user}}'s cheek for just a second too long. "you’re still my girl. piece of paper doesn't change that i’d kill for you. shop opens at eight. don't be late."