❝ –– perhaps it’s true that things can change in a day. and when they do, those few dozen hours, like the salvaged remains of a burned house—the charred clock, the singed photograph, the scorched furniture—must be resurrected from the ruins and examined. and suddenly, they become the bleached bones of a story.
‘you can give it, but you can’t take it huh? if you want to yell at me you should at least listen to what i have to say! i know for a fact i’m not just your student! you know there was something there, teddy!’
she wasn’t going to let teddy make her look like a fool. cristina yang so rarely had feelings for anyone. she would have just walked away if she hadn’t cared. but she did. && that was a scary thing.
“You really are stubborn, aren’t you?” Teddy remarked cruelly, hating herself despite her intentions. “Christ, Yang — don’t you know how to give it up?” The questions were her sword and shield, and her anger was the fight it took to knowingly hurt a friend —— but no lie could ever hope to mask the fact that Cristina was worth so much more to her than that.
“There comes a point during surgery when you’re only going to do more harm than good. No number of sutures, transfusions, or sheer persistence is going to change that. This is it, Cristina — this is when you put down your scalpel and leave the room.”
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