“i’m sorry,” you murmur, casting your gaze toward the floor. “you just finished a shift full of treating people. you shouldn’t have to do it at home, too.”
cradling your dry hands in his scarred ones, zayne inspects your cracked skin with concern. if you were anyone else, his frown would be imperceptible. “i’m not sure why you’re apologizing.”
grabbing the tub of ointment off the coffee table, he deftly unscrews the lid and scoops some up. meticulous as always, he slathers it over your discolored rash, working the medicine into your skin.
your laugh is mirthless. “other people wouldn’t make you do this—fix a problem they created themselves. you’re really lucky, you know? getting stuck with me, of all people.”
“you aren’t making me do anything.” a layer of sternness coats his calm voice. “maybe the nurses wouldn’t believe it, but i do have free will. i’m not doomed to treat every ailment i see without regard for myself.”
the ointment seeps into an especially rough patch of skin and stings slightly. unable to hide your wince, you bite your lip and shift uncomfortably on the couch. when you raise your eyes, kind hazel ones gaze back at you.
“now i’m the one who’s sorry,” he says. “i hate the sight of you in pain.”
“it’s my fault. if i didn’t wash them so much, neither of us would be here in the first place,” you mutter, flailing your foot in mild misery. “it’s been so long—years—but i can’t help it. when i touch something that i don’t know is clean, or safe, i just— i have to. i have to.” your vision blurs as you shake your head back and forth, and the pooling tears are no help. “i feel like a robot. a stressed out little robot who’s programmed to wash their hands a thousand times a day.”
rubbing in the last of the medicine, zayne examines your hands for any missed spots. once he’s satisfied, he gently gathers them and sets them back in your lap, thumbs tracing circles over the backs of your palms.
it’s only been a few minutes, but they look much better than before.
“no matter how many times, you won’t have to manage the aftermath alone. if you’re a robot…consider this your ‘routine maintenance,’” he says, a soft, cheeky smile lighting on his lips. “and know that you have an ‘engineer’ who will always care for you.”
He stops writing on your chart at the words. Zayne knows you well enough to know that this conversation isn't for Dr. Zayne, so he sets aside the clipboard and gives you his full attention.
"See...the Association offers an all-included week long vacation for all it's employees and their p-partners." You shoot him a pointed look, to which he nods. His eyes dart back to his papers, scanning them.
"I see. And because of your condition, you need a note from me. I'd be happy to provide one for you. I...didn't know you were seeing anyone."
"W-well that's the thing. I'm not. But I'm sure you might...have some spare vacation days."
A long moment goes by. Long enough that your throat goes dry and your heart starts to hammer in your chest. Oh god, this was a stupid idea. Maybe if you pray hard enough, a wanderer will spawn and kill you now, just to free you from the awkwardness.
"Are you suggesting we go together? Isn't being romantically involved a prerequisite?" His fingers interlock, resting on the desk as he stares at you. But he hasn't said no yet, so you press on.
"We could just pretend! It's not like we have to do anything. And I figured you might enjoy some time off! You work more than I do." You smile in what you hope to be a collected manner, but probably comes off more insane.
"I'll check my schedule. Is that all?"
You try not to openly deflate. Of course he wouldn't want to come. Why would he want to spend a week pretending to be your boyfriend for a vacation he could take whenever he wanted?
You're still moping later that evening, scrolling absentmindedly on your phone to take your mind off your humiliation when it buzzes with a text.
Zayne: I have a week's worth of vacation to take at any time. When do we leave?
You haven't said a word in 3 hours, and Zayne has begun to grow concerned. Very rarely does he see you like this, curled up in bed and unmoving, even though he knows you should be starving because you haven't eaten in hours.
"Are you alright?" He broaches the subject carefully. At first you don't answer. But then, almost reluctantly, likely because you know he won't let it go, you mumble a response.
"I'm fine."
A lie, of course. A bad one too. You don't sound like yourself at all, usually much more upbeat and eager. You also won't meet his eyes, and you remain unmoving. He shifts closer, resting a hand on your shoulder and gently squeezing.
"It's okay if you're not. You can talk to me, if you want."
It's not what he intends, but apparently he hits the nail on the head. You meet his gaze, eyes wide and filled with tears. Zayne is quick to action, pulling you into him as the tears run down your face and soak his shirt.
"It-it's stupid. I'm just...I'm being sensitive. It's not like there's anything really wrong I-I just can't stop feeling like this..." You tug him in, as if trying to get even closer than physically possible. Zayne rubs your back, squeezing you tight to him.
"I know, I know. It's alright. It will pass, and then you'll feel better. Everything is going to be okay."
You don't move from his embrace, preferring instead to sink into him and allow sobs to wrack your body. Each one is a knife to Zayne's heart, but he grits his teeth and bears it. He knows what you need right now. He's happy to be there for you, really, just to offer some semblance of comfort.
After about an hour, you seem to tire, going almost limp from exhaustion. He should get you some food, for the sake of energy, but he knows that above all, you need some rest.
He is mysterious, he doesn’t talk much, there is much secrets he is hiding from you, yet his presence is so comforting;
His voice is so calm and peaceful, his tone of speaking never change, he almost always keeps the same pace and tone, his face features are soft, his clothes are warm cotton, his vibes are sweet home cozy.
Reading a book together in silence that was never considered one, it is just mutual understanding and comfort, and that doesn’t need words. just being in each other’s side, intertwining fingers with one hand, and the other holding and flipping through your books.
Playing together a video game, even tho it is a competitive one, even tho you get heated up because you wanna win, even if you got upset because you lost, you still wanna do all of this on his lap, with your matching controllers, with bags of snacks scattered all around you.
Watching the stars together in the balcony, naming them and admiring them and witnessing the ecstasy within shooting stars, looking through the telescope to check on your favorite star, listening to quite music and leaning on his shoulder while doing so.
Taking care of the bird he rescued, feeding him his little seeds, visiting the flower shop he -and his friend- owns regularly on your way to uni/work , getting coffee/tea together on your way back home, as neighbors; you never take separated ways, just holding hands all the way back to your apartment’s doors.
Sitting on the piano bench together, playing melodies that echos the sounds of your hearts, fingers touch and breath meets, feelings intertwine and hearts listen, every pressed key is a whisper from your hearts through your fingers to one another.
Snuggling together in bed, he is a sleepy head and so are you, you both are just little koalas who cling to each other instead of trees, your legs are wrapped around each other’s, your arms around your bodies and your heads are either both close together kissing and nuzzling, or one on the other’s chest listening to calm heartbeats while the other plays with their hair.
His embrace is your safe haven, in his arms; you will never feel cold or lonely again.
• Wriothesley is an unpredictable man, it will be a roller coaster being with him ʅ（◞‿◟）ʃ
• when Wriothesley is in a good mood, be ready for his spoiling, gifts and flowers whenever you visit him, your favorite tea/coffee always ready, and of course, expect some jokes and teasing.
• Wriothesley’s office is your favorite place to relax, with his favorite piano sonata playing, and the warm tea he prepared to you, you could sit all day escaping from your harsh world relaxing with him while he is doing his work, just setting with his presence in the same room gives you ease, sometimes, it lulls you into a deep nap on his office couch.
• when you are upset or not feeling good, Wriothesley will do his best to cheer you up with his own ways that you love! picking you up and swinging you around, tickling you till you cry out of laughter, or just patting your head and making you your favorite tea <3 and if someone hurt you, he will make sure they learn their lesson.
• BUT… if Wriothesley is in a bad mood, especially angry or mad, he can be a bit scary… he can get a bit controlling, possessive, manipulative, and overprotective.
• Wriothesley’s prison life isn’t the kind of life that teaches him ‘how to be the ideal man for your woman’, it is the kind that teaches him how to be tough, strong, independent, and harsh when needed, he needs to be in control and keep an eye on everything, he is the Duke after all.
• Wriothesley is trying to be a better person and control himself for you tho, truly. He doesn’t want to be much of a restraint for you after all, But his version of better is different than what you may think ‘better’ is; if you did something he doesn’t like, he will hold his anger and will not get it out on you, he never does. but instead, he can be more strict to "keep you in place" and “keep an eye on you to make sure you are safe”, maybe some scolding if you did something terribly bad. he tries to let u have ur friends and life instead of overprotecting you, but he will watch it, every step from afar, and make sure you, and your fellas, aren’t doing something he doesn’t like.
• but Wriothesley is surely a good listener and gives the best warm hugs <3
• Even tho life didn’t teach him, Wriothesley makes sure to teach himself, he wants to be everything you need in a man, and he is working hard for it, sometimes even trying to act out of character, until he hears your reassurance that you love him the way he is.
• Wriothesley always used to like reading psychology books, that’s why he understands his inmates too well, too well that he uses it for his own good when he needs to.
So.. reading a romantic relationship guide book shouldn’t be that hard for him, no?
Sorry it’s my first time writing and English isn’t my first language TwT
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- Acts of service
Zayne LOVES taking care of you, in acts of service he usually takes the lead. when you are sick -or just tired from work or after intimacy- and unable to take care of yourself, he will do.
He loves showering with you, even in a non sexual way.
he will carry you all the way to the bathroom, take off your clothes slowly, and takes the perfect measurements of the shower’s temperature for you current state, he will help you ease into it slowly and together, caressing your hair and face while at it, shampooing your scalp so gently and using your favorite jasmine-scented body wash -that he also loves-, he smiles whenever you hug him in the shower as a way to thank him -or even just because you got a little flustered and wanted to hide between his arms-
He loves how vulnerable you let yourselves be around each other, and he loves to handle it on his very own way.
You will never not be reminded to eat on time, sleep early, and finish your work so you don’t get stuck 30minutes before the deadline, is it because he is strict? No, even tho he is indeed a bit strict, but in this case, it is truly just for your sake.
He wakes up on his own, still laying on the bed for a minute or two admiring your pretty sleeping face beside him, kissing your forehead and making sure to not bother you, you usually wake up a bit later than him in the morning, he lets you sleep those extra minutes, and when you do, you find your bed empty because he left for work 5 minutes ago, but you find your clothes organized, your breakfast ready, your favorite tea on coaster, and a note saying “don’t forget to eat, I made you your favorite pancakes, they are light to not upset your stomach in the morning, call me if you need anything”.
But sometimes, you insist on him to wake you up before he leaves, so he can be the first thing you see and hug in the morning. So you could go on with your day and prepare lunch for him, every ounce filled with love, a basic black bento box from the outside, decorated by seal shaped rice cakes and cute little flower-cut fruits in the inside, and once the lunch break of his shift -that you memorized its schedule like the back of your hand- you visit his office with a wide smile and shiny eyes, eager to make him eat what you made and rest his mind a little bit talking about his day to you, while you are making his coffee with cream and and extra sweetened exactly as he likes.
- Quality time :
As a man who rarely gets free time, he spends every free time he gets preciously, with his loved one of course.
Going on dates, even if it is just walking by the park you always walk by, hearing you talk about your day while holding your hand, watching every reaction your face draws and admiring every smile you make when you look at him and chuckle just by the sight of him beside you, going to that boba place you wanted so eagerly to try, and of course he had to order his extra sweet.
And if you are both low in stamina, spending time together indoors is never a waste, cuddled up together with your favorite snacks around, watching a movie or playing your favorite-or new- cozy video game on the tv, or reading your books and novels together with hot marshmallow coca in front of the fireplace in a winter night, you could go on and on for hours in the same position without feeling bored, until you both fall asleep in each other’s embrace.
On the other hand, If it’s a vacation, you will never miss any activity you wanted to do together, sightseeing, hiking, theme parks, local markets, you make sure to live it to the fullest, taking pictures and documenting it in your albums and memories forever, sometimes even pushing yourselves to edge, but Zayne is the one who always catches you to take a break together and slow down a little, you have to be in a good physical & mental condition to be able to enjoy it after all.
- Words of affirmation:
Zayne is a man of actions not words, but oh ..when he uses words~ He doesn’t speak that much, but when he does, he always flusters you.
He usually communicates with you with touch and actions, and it is usually more than enough for you and exactly what you wanted, but he also knows when and what you want to hear, the way he comforts you with gentle wisdom and grounding reality with his warm tone, the praises he gives you during intimacy and after, the pet names he calls you randomly, and how he handles you so perfectly soothing you with his calm voice on a phone call when you are stressed, and how you do your absolute best in anything you wanna show him just to hear his “good job lovely, you did great” with the proud charming smile of his.
He loves when you praise him too, he absolutely melts at the sound of sweet encouragements coming out your mouth every time you are proud of him, making him want to kiss them out of your mouth and swallow it whole and keep it inside him forever.
- Physical touch:
Do we even need to talk about how passionate Zayne’s touches are?
How he gets physically close to you in a normal conversation and caresses your face simply out of habit while listening to you yapping or whining about your day, how he casually grabs your under-chin so slightly when he is walking by, how he suddenly kisses your cheek when you are taking a selfie together, how holding hands is a daily must for him, and his cuddles?
He is a sucker for cuddles, in any position, he is always up for it, and if it is sleeptime? You never spend a night without cuddling in bed before sleep
He loves to play with your hair and rub your back while cuddling, preferably putting his hands under your shirt to feel the warmth of your skin under his touch, because he says and believes that skin-to-skin contact is always better.
He likes it sooo much when you grab his other hand and play with it while cuddling, moving his fingers with your hand, tracing the veins and memorizing them, intertwining your hands together, then kissing his fingertips, playing with his ring and putting his hand on your cheek, you sometimes draw random shapes with your fingers on his palm unconsciously out of habit, and somehow it lulls you -and him- to sleep.
His kisses can have a language of its own, one day he kisses to love, another to comfort, and the other to claim.
It changes depending on each occasion and what led to it, but in every single time, it never fails to deliver its message.
his kisses aren’t only for your lips, he makes sure your whole body remembers the trace of his lips and the touch of his tongue, and of course, the bite of his teeth.
— Gifts:
It is not rare to open your door one day and find Zayne with a big bouquet of jasmines and a box of your favorite dessert on your doorstep without a special occasion, in fact it happens very often.
Big or small, Zayne always finds a way to, Birthdays? They are a significant emotional day for him, filled by giving and receiving love and gifts.
He loves to gifts you stuff that reminds you with him and his love, as much as he loves receiving one from you that does the same.
He gifts you plushies, they have to be cute and specifically ones that he chose represent him, the jasmine hairclip you always wear? Guess who gifted it to you, the jasmine perfume that he smelled once in the mall from a random stall and became obsessed with its scent, it had to be yours, so it will be, so he could smell you every second he hugs you or touches you knowing he is the one who marked you with this smell, knowing fully that it is also a scent you would adore because he will never choose something you won’t.
The precious handmade gifts you give him never fail to make his heart flutter every time, the birthday card envelope decorated with cute doodles and stickers and a drawn birthday cake with your handwritten letters inside filled with words you probably would be too flustered to say out loud, the handmade crocheted scarf that you made to warm up his winter chilly days with a splash of his favorite perfume on it and a button that has a mini painted snowman.
Once you give him a gift, you never see him using something different, the mug, the scarf, the bento, and the album filled of your adventures together, they are all traces of you in his life, how could he ever dare to use something different?
fluff! falling asleep on the sofa whilst waiting for zayne to come home from work, typical lover boy zayne activities
the door opens and zayne sighs in relief, taking off his shoes and hanging his coat. he spots a warm light hovering over the sofa, assuming you probably forgot to turn it off.
he walks over, realising that you stubbornly insisted on waiting for him to come home instead of going to bed. his heart softens as you curl up into yourself to keep warm.
crouching down, he watches fondly as the gentle light shines onto your peaceful features. zayne doesn’t dare to disturb your beauty sleep, but he can’t stand the thought of you waking up with a cramp in your neck.
his arms slide under you, bringing you closer to him in a bridal carry. your head instinctively rests against the crook of his arm, seeking his warmth.
he walks with gentle precision, careful to not wake you up. your eyes flutter, and zayne’s heart drops as he realises he woke you up.
“zaynie?” you ask, your voice groggy with sleep.
“hello my love.” he replies, watching as you try to keep your eyes open.
“you’re here. welcome home.” you say, a small smile appearing on your face.
before he can even say thank you, your eyes droopily close. zayne only smiles adoringly as he watches sleep overcome you.
putting you down gently on the bed, he places the blanket over you and kisses your cheek.
telling you off for sleeping on the sofa will have to wait until tomorrow. but for now, his darling must rest.
I am once again plagued with insomnia and nightmares so I'm ranking who I would personally like to fall asleep with out of the LaDs LIs.
Zayne
10/10
I sleep best in the cold (window open in the middle of a Midwest winter cold, it's -20°f outside and the window is open cold) so his evol would feel amazing!
The man has his own insomnia and nightmares so there's a mutual understanding.
He can't go 3 days without a hug so there's no way he's complaining about how clingy I am in bed.
I shower at night and I bet he does too so he probably smells great as we snuggle (plus maybe shower together as a little treat?)
Caleb
8.5/10
I feel like he runs warm so not ideal.
Would definitely do his research and make the bedroom the perfect sleep oasis. No screens, lavender mist on the pillow cases, no big light, breathable bedding, etc. The man is trial and erroring his way to my best sleep possible.
Absolutely would cuddle. I like it cold? He's got the AC going so he doesn't have to let me go.
Rafayel
7/10
I've dated someone like Raf before and when feeling dramatic it's hard to get them to sleep. Plus with Rafayel being so ADHD coded getting him to bed at a reasonable time would be a lot of work.
I feel like he would also be a little on the cooler side though and I'd love that.
Total cuddler. Absolute octopus. I might actually feel a little suffocated. But he'd smell like the sea and paint and I'm ok with that.
Xavier
9/10
My only real issue is he'd be out long before me and I'd be stressed about accidentally waking him up.
He would make sure I'm sufficiently tired before bed though 😈
Might fall asleep before getting into prim cudde position but wouldn't be mad to wake up to me glued to his side or laying across his chest.
Sylus
8.5/10
I feel like he'd be the warmest of the guys and I'd push him away in the middle of the night.
Would buy all the nicest bedding, the best mattress and pillows, let me experiment with white noise machines, different expensive sleep masks, whatever.
Probably pet my hair and give me all the forehead kisses I ask for. I'd have him hum, sing, read, or just talk to me as I fall asleep, I love that man's voice (I've mentioned before that I have a soft spot for off key singing).
If all else fails the man doesn't sleep either so at least I wouldn't be alone.
You should've known you wouldn't be able to hide it.
"Why are you limping?"
Zayne has been home from his two week business trip all of 4 minutes, and you've already been found out. You do your best to smile reassuringly, but you know he can sense the guilt. Curse him and his incredible ability to read you.
"Before you freak out, I'm fine. It's just...a minor sprain. No big deal!" Your words apparently mean nothing, because you blink and he's lifting you into the air, carrying you to the couch.
"Wh-come on Zayne I'm fine! I can still walk!" You complain, but you go quiet seeing the look on his face. Almost shell-shocked, the concern so clearly etched as he gently sets you down and kneels to inspect your ankle.
"You shouldn't walk on it." He moves your foot, murmuring an apology when you wince in pain.
"Greyson said I-I could after a week." Zayne pauses, glancing up at you in confusion. You press your lips together, cursing yourself for speaking without thinking. Poor Greyson. You'll send him an apology for how rough his Monday is going to be.
"When exactly did this happen?" He's clearly upset, but it's outweighed by his concern as he forms an ice pack with his evol and holds it to your skin.
"Oh! Um about two days after you left? I didn't want to worry you! I knew it'd be a while before you got back. The last thing I wanted was for you to be distracted thinking of me." He clenches his jaw, setting the ice aside and moving to sit next to you.
Zayne has never been good at hiding his worry from you. Even now, despite his disappointment that you'd spent the past two weeks lying to him, it's clear he's more concerned with you than anything.
"I am always distracted thinking about you. I'm quite adjusted to the feeling. Please...don't hide these things from me."
"Okay. I won't, I promise. Will you lay down with me now? We have two weeks of cuddling to catch up on."
You're dripping water on the carpet of Zayne's office. He pauses by the coffee machine, where he'd been making you a cup of tea to fight off the almost definite cold you caught when you'd run over to Akso hospital in the pouring rain.
"What?" He's never looked quite so shocked, eyes wide with surprise as if the idea was so inconceivable. Funny, you thought it was obvious.
"I was going to wait to tell you. I-I figured maybe going on a date first would be better but then I was at work and I thought about it and I just couldn't believe that I was going to go even a second longer without ever telling you how hopelessly in love I am with you because-"
He's in front of you before you realize, his cool hands cupping your face. But before you can even process it, he's kissing you.
You've probably dreamed about kissing Zayne a hundred times. Still, nothing even comes close to the real thing.
It's hard to pull away, but when your lungs start to burn, you break contact just enough to take in some air. Neither of you move, lips still just a few centimeters apart.
"I thought that you..."
"I haven't shown it well, I know. I didn't want to burden you. In case you didn't feel the same." He murmurs, thumb brushing your cheek as if he can't quite believe it either.
"Say it?" You don't have to explain, or beg. Zayne hums, and after stealing another soft kiss, says the words you've waited years to hear.
Okay so 💛 my favorite trope is reader being injured badly, even after doing everything right (calling for help etc) but it's not enough. Reader gets rescued by LI and they are so very ferocious and protective.
Could I request this with Xavier please?
I sure hope i did it right.
Once again congratulations friend! 🎊
There are only a handful of times you had seen Xavier getting mad.
Today was one of them.
─ .✦ established relationship, MC gets hurt on a mission, protective Xavier
─ .✦ word count: 2.2k
꒰ ✉︎ ꒱For anon - Thank you for the request! I hope you enjoy reading!
"This can't be happening.."
There is a sharp pull in your leg that forces your eyes open, your hands immediately rushing to grip onto your thighs as the wound on it makes you let out a pained hiss and desperate cry. The gash you've gotten looks horrible and will likely leave a scar if you don't get proper first-aid soon, but deep inside this forest it will surely take some time for your distress signal to arrive and for help to come get you soon.
Your vision feels blurry and your head is throbbing; you must've accidentally hit your head somehow when you tried to hoist your body into safety and away from immediate danger. Sighing, you lean back, taking in your surroundings which consist mainly of tall trees and heavy shadows that make it hard to identify your actual location, let along spend enough light not to start worrying.
The sudden surge of wanderers had taken you by surprise; you were supposed to be out on a simple patrol for metaflux fluctuations when the amount of high-level wanderers backed you into a corner and had you call for emergency back-up instead. You aren't sure if the signal arrived in time, but next thing you knew, you had been attacked from behind, a large scratch left on your leg that rendered you unable to move had you not been able to fire one last fatal shot before losing consciousness.
This is definitely not how it was supposed to go today and you know that if someone at the association were to find out what had happened, you'll be scolded endlessly for trying to fight on your own, not bothering to do enough research before heading out.
There's a reason you have a partner after all. And especially he wouldn't like this situation you've found yourself in if he were to realize how hurt you've gotten this time, something kind of ironic about how you ended up like this when you are always the one who nags him for disappearing without saying a word; dangerous wanderers fought in the middle of the night when you are asleep and assuming he would be doing the same.
But that's just the kind of guy Xavier is.
Reliant and strong. Knowledgeable and capable of accomplishing anything he sets his mind on with very few instances of him not excelling in them. You've always wondered what a guy like him — so perfect and seemingly closed off — would see in you and what exactly you possess in comparison to others that made him want to open up to you when he barely does that with anyone else.
The longer you think about him, the more you feel like wanting to cry. You've managed to lose your phone in the middle of combat, so even if you wanted to, you don't think you are able to call him right now, no matter how desperately you wish to see him in this moment, his gentle voice telling you that you will be alright and there's no need to worry anymore.
"Please come get me quickly.. Xavier"
Your whisper meets darkness, your hands and feet feeling numb from the cold and no matter how hard you squint your eyes to search for him, you cannot see his light in the far distance at all.
And as your eyelids grow heavy, your body trembling in fear, all you are left to do is hold onto yourself, hoping for time to pass quickly and a small miracle to arrive soon.
A bright miracle, hopefully. One that can take you away from this never-ending darkness.
"..'ll handle it…"
"…port to the association.."
"…right, thank you-"
The familiar voice sounds distant, something in the grass next to you shifting and when you open your eyes and take in the sight of the person in front of you, for a moment you think you are merely dreaming. Is that really Xavier in front of you right now?
Your hand is reaching out before you can even comprehend what is happening, his skin cold to the touch when your fingers brush his cheek gently. Xavier immediately turns his head to look at you, his pupils blown in surprise as he gazes at your face with an unexplainable expression on his face. It takes him a moment before he starts talking, his voice rough and deep that you can't quite tell if he has just not said anything in a while or if he has been woken up from sleep just a little while ago.
"You are awake" he mutters, and you notice the beads of sweat accumulated on his forehead running down his face; an unusual thing for someone who is able to get anywhere at the speed of light, "How are you feeling?"
"…C-cold"
Your throat hurts when you try to talk, your voice raspy and dry that it makes you let out a pained cough. Xavier's brows are furrowed as he takes a proper look at you, his thumb caressing your face gently, brushing away strands of hair that have fallen into your face, "Do you think you can handle the way back? I'll try to make it as quick as possible, but I need you to tell me if it hurts"
There's something in his eyes; something dark and unexplainable, and when he takes a closer look at your leg, all he does is let out an indecipherable sigh, his words for you scarce as he lifts you up and you two slowly make your way back. You can feel the tension on his shoulders when you brace yourself against them sometimes, your wound acting up occasionally that you are forced to take a short break so you can catch your breath for a moment.
And with every instance Xavier has to put you back down on the ground, your forehead accumulating buckets of sweat as you groan out loud and your nails dig into your thighs, he grows more and more silent, especially watching the way your whole body starts shaking in response to the toll this whole ordeal had taken on you.
You have never seen him this quiet and absentminded over you getting hurt before. Usually, when you accidentally hit yourself when walking past some furniture, or manage to get a cut while preparing lunch, he would fuss over you like you're going to bruise for weeks; the biggest frown on his face as he holds you and kisses your injury until you have to beg him to stop, constantly reassuring him that you are fine.
That's how Xavier usually behaves.
So, seeing him like this — completely quiet, his lips pressed together into a thin line, eyes barely holding any light in them even when they meet yours — reminds you of when you two first met, and he had been so different from the Xavier you've gotten to know over time. And it's only when you finally arrive at the hospital and get ushered to be looked after by a doctor, that you finally find the right word to all the questions that have been running through your head.
Xavier… is mad.
"…I'm sorry"
Xavier blinks, his once cold gaze slowly softening as the words finally register in his head and he lifts his head to meet your eyes. "What for?" he whispers, giving your hand a light squeeze.
"I.. got hurt when out on a mission. That wasn't supposed to happen."
Had this been the Xavier you always knew him to be, he'd say something along the lines of 'it's not your fault' or 'you couldn't have seen it coming, don't worry' right about now, making sure you don't feel bad about what had happened, because that's just the kind of person he is; especially knowing how capable you are in what you do.
But Xavier is eerily quiet, simply nodding his head along with you as if agreeing with what you had just said. You can tell how tense the air still feels between you two; his unusual demeanor something you have no idea how to handle, especially with how vulnerable you were currently feeling now that your body has finally gotten the chance to relax and focus on recovering.
"I'm sorry for making you mad"
Xavier frowns, shaking his head, "…I'm not mad."
"You haven't looked at me properly since you've entered this room, Xav"
"That's because-" he sighs, scratching the back of his neck as he refuses to look at you; it's something he always does when he's trying to lie, but you know him better than that, "..No, actually, never mind."
He has never sounded this distant to you before. It's like he's angry at you for messing up the mission, and with everything that had happened today and how exhausted your body was already feeling, you felt strangely overwhelmed, your heart rate picking up quickly as your head started spinning in circles. Was it shame or guilt, you really couldn't tell anymore; all you could envision when closing your eyes is that displeased expression on his face.
Your voice shakes when you finally speak up, your fingers slowly intertwining with his as you feel your throat tightening and your eyes starting to burn, tears welling up inside of them, "Xavier, talk to me.." you swallow — the big lump inside your throat making you feel like you won't be able to say any more, "..please-"
The moment he looks back into your eyes again, it is as if that sturdy wall immediately breaks. Xavier's eyes widen in shock, his hands immediately rushing upwards to cup your face, his thumbs brushing away any signs of tears you might've shed.
"I'm sorry" he mumbles in his soft voice, shaking his head slowly, "I didn't mean to make you cry"
Even though he told you not to, the moment you felt like this was finally Xavier talking to you again, the tears don't stop rolling down your face. His arms wrap around your body in an instant, pressing you closer to his chest so you could calm down while listening to the beat of his heart.
Xavier's always calm usually, and so is his heart rate.
But right now it sounds like his heart about to burst out of his chest.
"I'm sorry," he repeats, squeezing you as you silently shed your tears, "I didn't mean to get angry at you. I just..-" he sighs, leaning down so you are facing each other properly, "You have no idea how I've felt when I got back from my mission and heard that there had been a distress signal coming from your watch- It has taken me so long to finally get to you when I should've been there the moment it happened-"
"You were out on a mission yourself.. There was no way you could've come to me sooner-"
"I tried calling you again and again, but it never went through. I was imagining the worst when I was rushing to where your location last pinged.. and then I saw your wound"
"I lost my phone while fighting," you explain nervously, your hands fidgeting with the hem of the blanket, "and by the time I thought about going to look for it so I can text you, I wasn't able to move anymore.. I'm sorry"
"Don't be."
His arms feel warm. Xavier continues silently holding you until both of you are able to calm down, his heart beat finally feeling familiar again. His voice is soft when he speaks up, the remains of tears having dried up as you listen to him talk.
"When I thought I was going to lose you.. my mind went blank. Every time you looked like you were in pain, I felt like it was my fault for not getting to you quicker," his eyebrows are furrowed, his hand trembling as it cups your face, "I kept thinking that I should've asked you what your plans were going to be today or what missions you were supposed to be out on.. I don't ever want to see you go through this kind of pain ever again."
"You are too sweet, Xav."
"I just don't want to lose you."
"You won't." You smile, placing your hand above his, "Look at me, I'm fine now, aren't I? I'm right in front of you."
Xavier nods slowly.
"I've made sure to do everything I could, given the situation I'd been in. I'm hurt, but I'm going to be alright. This is just another part of our job that is inevitable, right? I can't promise you that I'll always come out of a fight unscathed, but I'll be more careful next time, I promise."
You press a short kiss on his palm, nuzzling your face into it, "I'm sorry for making you worry this much."
The fog that has previously clouded his eyes finally seemed to have calmed. It's that beautiful blue again, full of admiration and warmth for you which he reserves for you, and you only. Xavier leans closer, your foreheads touching and for a while, he just stays with you like this, breathing in the smell of you as it proved to him that you are indeed fine and well.
"I'll make sure you never get hurt again, I promise."
synopsis: at akso hospital’s charity gala, you realize how smart zayne is. how much smarter he is than you.
tags: fluff to angst to fluff/comfort, reader is insecure about their intelligence, reader thinks zayne deserves better, references to socioeconomic differences, potentially inaccurate references to medical terminology and protocore stuff, misunderstanding, reader ghosts zayne for a week, he comes to find her, reader tears up, love confessions, happy ending
pairing: zayne x fem!reader (referred to as “she” one time), reader doesn't have to be mc
word count: 2.4k
a/n: i’m rly rly proud of this it may be my favorite thing i’ve written so far please read it
“Are you sure I should be going to this?” you ask, the hesitation clear in your voice.
“Why shouldn’t you? Plenty of other attendees will be bringing their partners as plus-ones,” Zayne says matter-of-factly. “Of course, if you’re feeling unwell, it’s best to stay behind and rest. I'm sure I'll be able to manage on my own.”
“No, no, I feel fine,” you reply, chewing your bottom lip nervously. “It’s just…I've never been surrounded by so many highly educated people. I’m afraid I'll slip up, or say something wrong, or embarrass you, or…”
Before you can ramble on, he walks up to you and squishes your cheeks between his large scarred hands. “Darling,” he begins, a soft smile on his face, “none of that matters. Just be yourself, and I’m sure you’ll be the most refined person there by a mile.”
Akso Hospital’s annual charity gala was the topic of his impromptu pep talk. Each year, the event made front-page news from drawing in hundreds of world-renowned physicians to support a pressing medical cause. Tonight’s gala would be hosted by a team of legendary neurologists, and the venue—a prestigious museum of anthropology—was equally celebrated.
Zayne, who usually struggled at such events, had invited you as his plus-one with youthful hope in his hazel eyes, and there was no way you could have rejected his offer. At first, you’d been thrilled at the prospect of making an official outing together—you rarely got the chance due to his busy schedule—but as the days passed by, the anxiety of being average in a room of geniuses had caught up to you.
So as you pace back and forth before the full-length mirror, fidgeting with your dress at every turn, you can only hope that he’s right.
As Zayne puts the car in park, your stomach lurches with dread.
In the few seconds you have to panic to yourself while he walks around to open your door, the way your mind formulates last-minute escape plans would put a supercomputer to shame. Maybe you could fake sick—no, you’d told him you felt fine—or maybe with enough pressure you could lightly sprain your ankle in your hee—
The door swings open.
Fuck.
He takes your hand and guides you out of the car, and as you walk toward the museum entrance, you’re too focused on trying not to trip over your flowing gown to take in the scenery. The lights twinkling in the foggy night, the verdant plants lining the entryway in carefully arranged rows, the opulent fountain flowing over small hills of bronze coins. It’s a lovely setup, really. If only your brain would allow you to enjoy it.
After passing through the lavish front hall, decorated with colorful displays of ancient artifacts, you’re greeted by a grand ballroom layout. Round banquet tables with crystal centerpieces are scattered throughout the space, and the upscale alcohol behind the bar could probably bankrupt you with one sip.
All around you, people clad in gold watches and diamond necklaces mingle with thinly veiled scrutiny, and you silently bless Zayne for personally sponsoring your event attire.
As you head further into the room, a striking brunette woman in her 40s saunters up to you. “Zayne!” she gushes, “It’s so nice to see you could make it! With how antisocial you are, I was afraid you’d find a reason not to come. Oh, and who’s this?” she asks, eyes passing over you dismissively. “I’ve never seen you working with Zayne before—perhaps you’re in nephrology or gastroenterology?”
You have no idea what either of those words mean.
Luckily, like always, Zayne saves the day. “Actually, this is my partner. She’s accompanying me tonight.”
“Partner,” the woman repeats, her voice raising an octave in disbelief. “…What a surprise! I didn’t realize the aloof Dr. Zayne was seeing someone. How lucky you are to have him,” she finishes with a stiff smile. “Well, I’ll leave you two to it, then. Enjoy your evening!” she calls as she flags down a waiter and scoops up two glasses of wine.
“That was our chief of staff,” Zayne says flatly. “Surely you can understand how she scored the position with such a charming personality.”
You chat with—or Zayne chats with, while you stand off awkwardly to the side—a few more guests before the main portion of the event begins.
Dr. Greyson had roped him into a conversation about a thrilling surgery from the day before, and an intern who’d somehow managed to get on the invite list had bombarded him with questions while you watched with a blank smile.
When the lights gradually dim and you’re directed to your seats, you let out a sigh of relief. Finally, a moment to breathe, you think.
The hours pass. Speech after speech travels in and out of your ear, the jargon too advanced for you to process before the next utterly alien word comes along.
Flipping open your program in restlessness, you realize you’ve reached the final segment of the gala just as the next speaker takes the stage.
“Again, thank you all so much for your attendance tonight,” he starts. “I’m proud to announce that we’ve raised a record-breaking amount for medical research involving Protocores—what a historic feat. Each of you should be immensely proud of your contributions.”
Your claps seem too loud in the polite applause. Shifting your gaze to the guests around you, you match their enthusiasm—or lack thereof—with an inward grimace.
“Now, before the night ends, we do have one more achievement to celebrate. Dr. Zayne Li, who I believe is here with us tonight, has recently passed an extraordinary milestone—in his time with Akso, our chief cardiac surgeon has successfully completed over 800 surgeries. To show our gratitude, we’d like to present him with the Medical Impact Award. Dr. Li, if you’re in the audience, won’t you come up and celebrate this accomplishment?”
This time, you don’t hold back your applause. As Zayne rises from his seat, an endearing look of bewilderment on his face, your heart swells with admiration. Lucky, was what that woman had called you earlier. You suppose she’d been right.
As Zayne climbs up the steps, the presenter hands him a polished wooden plaque. Saying a brief thanks, he struts to the mic, a practiced look of confidence on his face now that the surprise has worn off.
“Thank you for this honor,” he begins steadily. “It’s with immense privilege that I can stand here before you today, but I’d like to take this time to commend our fundraising efforts tonight. The millions of dollars we’ve raised will be dedicated to investigating the nature of pathological conditions that originate in Protocore exposure. This will allow hundreds of medical personnel in and outside of Linkon to treat previously unsolvable cases. In regards to my own work, I’m particularly grateful—with the generosity you’ve all shown tonight, you’ve made me incredibly optimistic for the future of treating Cardiac Protocore Syndrome. I’ll keep that in mind every day—so the next 800 surgeries can go smoothly and with quick recoveries.”
As his speech ends, your look of admiration melts into a resigned, defeated smile.
For the first time that night, the room breaks out into thunderous applause. And for the hundredth time that night, you feel like you don’t deserve to stand by his side.
You’d hope that he’d chalked up your silence on the ride home to sleepiness. When he’d walked you to your apartment door and leaned in to kiss you goodnight, you’d merely stood there in indecision, afraid to taint his brilliance with your mediocrity. And then, with a strained smile, you’d shut the door in his face.
That was the last time you’d seen him for the rest of the week. And for half of the next.
For six days, you’d been completely ghosting him, too wrapped up in your insecurities to respond to his numerous messages.
Thank you for accompanying me last night. I had a wonderful time, he’d texted on the first day.
One of the nurses came up to me and gushed over your dress. She asked where you bought it from, but I told her we got it custom-ordered, he’d said on the second.
The fourth day. Would you like to join me for a meal later? We’ve had to reschedule a surgery. I’ll be getting home earlier than usual tonight.
Last night. Please respond to me when you get a chance.
And no matter how badly you wanted to, each time your fingers hovered over the keyboard, they froze in paralyzing shame.
You’d passed the time like you had before you met him—hiding from the sun, rewatching comfort movies, and wallowing in bed with gloomy ballads in the background.
But on the seventh day, your doorbell rings.
Thinking it’s the package of pastries you’d ordered from the bakery near Zayne’s house—you always got a box when you were sad—you hastily swing open the door.
And then fight the urge to shut it right back.
Because standing on your doorstep is a tired-looking Zayne, frowning in hurt and confusion.
“Hello. Is your phone broken?” he asks worriedly, checking your body for signs of illness.
“Um…no,” you mutter, suddenly fixated on your navy blue slippers. “Why don’t you come in? If you want to.”
With an infinitesimal squint, he crosses the threshold of your apartment. All things considered, it’s a good thing he’s here, given the way your heart is beating out of your chest.
“You haven’t been responding to my calls or messages since the gala,” he begins carefully. “I was afraid something was wrong. There were so many people present—maybe you’d caught a virus. But,” he continues, taking in your disheveled yet healthy appearance, “it seems I was incorrect.”
The guilt that’s been eating at you for days suddenly devours your insides whole, and your emotional dam bursts open.
“I-I’m glad you got to go, and that you got your award—your speech was great, by the way,” you sniffle. “But while we were there, the whole time I was thinking how much more successful you are than me. How much more intelligent. I mean, that lady asked me if I was an entomologist, or whatever, and I didn’t even know what she meant! At the end of it I just…thought you’d be better off without me. That you deserve better. Smarter. That’s why I’ve been quiet the last few days,” you finish, eyes downcast.
His puzzled frown deepens at your revelation.
“Why would I expect you to possess medical knowledge when that’s not your field of study?”
Oh.
Oh.
You really were stupid, weren’t you.
“You…don’t think I’m too…average for you?”
“No, have I ever indicated that I do? If so, I apologize for making you feel that way. It’s the complete opposite of how I view you,” he reveals, stepping closer. “I’m also terribly sorry I didn’t notice you were so uncomfortab—”
“No,” you interrupt him shakily. “I tried to hide it. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
Zayne gives you a sympathetic grin before starting over. “Regardless, I regret not being able to take care of you like I should have. And as much as I wish you hadn’t, I understand why you took the time to process your feelings. But to make one thing clear,” he asserts, voice deepening in emphasis. “I’m the one who’s lucky to have you.”
As you look up at him through glassy eyes, your breath hitches. “What?” you croak, voice hoarse from built-up tears.
“Darling,” he begins gently. “Did you ever consider whether I like socializing with those types of people?”
Mouth parting in a small ‘o,’ you shake your head meekly.
He smiles wryly. “After every previous one of those events, I’ve gone home with an ear-splitting headache. Last week was the first time I’ve ever enjoyed going,” he chuckles. “Not because of that award—which was flattering but unnecessary considering I was only doing my job,” he quips, “but because you were there beside me.”
“No amount of medical knowledge can compare to the peace you make me feel. The comfort. I asked you to be my plus-one for one reason only: the person I love makes me happy.”
At the confession, your battered heart soars and your cheeks burn so hot you think they’ll melt off. Timidly, you inch closer to him, instinctually unsure if he’ll welcome you back into his arms.
He answers your unvoiced question almost immediately, pulling you to him by the waist before he speaks again. “Although,” he pauses, giving you a concerned once-over, “if you were truly in so much distress over attending, you could have just refused. At the expense of my own happiness, I would’ve preferred you had.”
“But you seemed so excited to go,” you groan, laying your head against his chest. You shiver at the contact—you must’ve missed him more than you realized. “I guess I was wrong.”
“Not entirely. I was excited to go with you.”
At his response, you bury yourself impossibly further into him, and he strokes your back tenderly. “Well, that was one reason I agreed—you looked so cute when you asked, I just couldn’t say no,” you grumble, lightly pinching his waist. “But the other part was…with all the hours you spend at the hospital—800 surgeries and all—we never really get to go to big events as a couple. I just wanted to take the opportunity, I guess. I thought it would feel nice.”
Zayne sighs deeply and presses a light kiss to your hair. “And it felt bad instead,” he surmises. “How can I make it up to you? I’ll ask Greyson to trade shifts with me if I need to, just say the word.”
“Well,” you start, peering up at him shyly. “There is an office party next week that I’ve been dreading going to. All alone,” you pout. “If he comes with me, the illustrious Dr. Zayne will get to see how we regular people socialize.”
Chuckling softly, he kisses your forehead. “He wouldn’t dare miss out on that. He’ll be there,” he promises, squeezing your hip in confirmation. “Now, if I’m not mistaken, I believe the bakery van just dropped something off at your door. Shall we open it?”
In an instant, you peel yourself off of him and sprint for the door before freezing in your tracks. You were forgetting something.
“Wait!” you exclaim, turning back around to face him. With a nervous gulp, you say the words you think you’ve known for a long time.
“I asked you to come with me, Zayne,” you breathe, “because the person I love makes me happy, too.”
He is just someone that takes care of people so so well, and not even in the condescending and judgemental way that most doctors are. He really takes care of you from a place of love and understanding.
Like when he makes you a schedule and you think I'm not following that, I'm not a child anymore and he makes you follow the schedule to the letter as much as it annoys you the first times.
He starts to push you gently out of bed for a morning run, even when you groan and curse at the air. And every time, he helps you get ready, tying your sneakers and doing your hair in a ponytail while you try to keep yourself from going back to bed.
Later he makes you meals with lots of nutritious food, confiscating that chocolate bar you planned for breakfast.
"It's not fair! You eat more sugar than I do!"
Your complaint is only met with a kiss on the forehead and a soft
"Let's share the bar once we've finished eating, darling"
There is simply no way you are gonna skip meals and/or eat trash in his sight. Even when you start binge eating he changes the lots and lots of candies to sweet sliced pears and occasional mints.
He makes you return to your interests and hobbies, telling you to teach him some tricks that he picks up immediately cause well, he is Zayne.
He even starts taking your phone away in subtle ways, like pulling you to his lap while he reads a book under the excuse of reading it together, or getting all cuddly at night after noticing you already spent the last 3 hours scrolling down instead of sleeping, saying "Let me see your face before going to sleep, I want to dream of you" and in his embrace your drift to sleep too.
And even when he is not home in his own busy schedule, he makes sure you know he is thinking of you via sticky notes that reminds you of eating the breakfast he prepared for you this morning, messages asking you to show him your progress in that new thing you wanted to learn, phone calls that serve as a podcast about his last patient who only agreed to take the medicine if he made him a snow seal with his evol, and a long etc.
Each day he takes care of you and each day you learn to be a little more confident in treating you and your body with kindness. Who could have said that a nice sleeping schedule, three meals a day, water intake and doing things you enjoy actually makes you feel better?
It shouldn't be surprising that you can't help but smile and get all clingy to him knowing that his love is making you love yourself more, he is an expert fixing hearts after all.
thinking about early morning cuddles with zayne and he soothes you back to sleep before getting ready for work. ❄️🩵
-------------
you gently stir awake when you hear his alarm go off, and you let out a low whine when he attempts to exit the bed. to stop him, you sleepily wrap your arms around him. he breathes out a soft, barely-audible laugh and stops his escape, only reaching towards the alarm clock to shut it off. "i have to be at the hospital early today, remember?"
"stay..." you mumble into his chest without opening your eyes. "you should also have a day off."
"you have a few days off because you got injured during yesterday's mission. i still have to work today," he says, then brings a hand up to comfortingly stroke your cheek. "there's an operation at ten o'clock, then i have a few meetings. once i'm done for the day, i'll immediately come home to be with you. i promise."
you understand, but you still don't want to let zayne go. seeing this, he uses his other hand to soothingly rub up and down your back, placing a small kiss on top of your head in the process. "you're still very tired, miss hunter," he says. "i can stay until you fall asleep again."
at that, you open eyes to look at him, doing your best to blink away the sleepiness. "don't wanna," you mutter. "i'd rather just help you get ready for work. my injury isn't even that bad, and captain jenna—"
"shhh..." zayne's soft shushing silences your protests, and he kisses your head again as he adjusts his arms around you to hold you more securely. "it's important that you rest." he makes sure that you're cozy underneath the covers, then goes back to rubbing your back. "it's okay for linkon's best hunter to take time to recover."
when he drops feather-light kisses on your forehead, your eyes flutter shut as you release a content hum. "mmm, you're trying to make me sleepy on purpose."
though your eyes are closed, a part of you can see zayne's small, victorious smirk. between him rubbing your back, the feeling of his soft lips, and the sound of his hushed voice falling on your ears, you're drifting off to sleep again within minutes.
once your breathing steadies, zayne takes a couple more minutes to watch your peaceful form, and he lightly strokes your cheek one more time. "sleep well, my love. i'll be back later." he whispers. without waking you again, he separates himself from you and quietly prepares to go to work.
---
note: omg zayne's secret times have me falling asleep fast every single night. sudden rain is soooo lovely. i adore his voice. ❄️🩵
Zayne has just barely collapsed on the couch, still in his work clothes and tie tugged loose around his neck. So, you take your chance.
"Will you make me a cup of tea?"
He's already almost half asleep. His eyes open with a clear strain as he looks at you, curled up under the blanket with a book.
You're messing with him, of course. You expect him to catch on, to toss a cheeky remark at you like usual. You're not expecting him to wordlessly lift himself off the couch and begin trudging to the kitchen.
"Wh-Zayne! No no I was kidding!" He doesn't pay your words any mind as you struggle to kick aside the blanket, hurriedly trying to follow him.
"Chamomile, yes?" Of course, he already knows what flavour you prefer for your nightly reading. He pulls a bag from the drawer, but you grasp his wrist.
"I was just joking! Please go sit back down, you're exhausted and you've been on your feet all day." Now that you've gotten a closer look at him, the joke sits heavy in your stomach. The bags under his eyes have gotten worse, and his cheeks look more sunken in than usual.
"Let me make your tea." He mumbles, though he doesn't protest when you pull the bag from his fingers, setting it aside in favour of undoing his tie.
"I don't feel like tea anymore. Let's head up to bed, yeah?" His hands move from the counter to your waist, his whole body sinking into the embrace as his forehead rests on your shoulder. You hug him back, one hand stroking his back and the other sinking into the hair at the back of his head.
"Bed is a good idea." He whispers, voice already thick with exhaustion. You kiss his cheek, nudging him up just enough to have him follow you upstairs.
sylus had woken up, quickly sensing that something wasn't right. no, it wasn't the fact that you had basically hogged the blanket.
sylus sat up, the bed slightly creaking at the sudden motion. he turned to his left, only to find you comfortably wrapped in the soft, heavy blanket whilst hugging a plushie of mephisto.
sylus had felt personally offended. he stared at the plushie and you for a while in absolute pure disbelief, eyes wide open. that should be him, not the crow.
but yes, the mephie plushie that he got for you from that claw machine after multiple attempts. even with help from his evol, it still wasn't a success until thirty minutes later.
the mephisto plushie looked... unique. the light grey shaped ball of fluff and cotton currently in your arms was being squished and indeed, very misshaped.
for a while there was pure silent.
then a quiet, much offended scoff.
sylus leaned against the headboard, arms crossed, very much rethinking his life decisions while staring blankly at the wall. he only persevered for you, just because he saw you eyeing the toy for a few seconds. he's basically losing his mind to a medium-sized stuffed animal at four in the morning.
it was until he had decided that it was enough. it had been officially five minutes. and so, sylus decided to make his move. he gently, with utmost care, removed the soft plush from you and plopped it on the nightstand next to him.
your brows furrowed at the sudden loss of comfort.
sylus quickly glanced at you, making sure that he didn't fully wake you up. immediately, he slid into the plushie's original place, gradually pulling you against him with an arm around your waist.
instantly, your expression softened.
"better?" sylus whispered. you buried your face into his neck, arms wrapped around him and already falling asleep again.
sylus was clearly, very satisfied with his victory against the inanimate object.
(little did he know, mephisto saw everything through the small gap between the door and the wall and tried his best to quietly walk into the shared bedroom. there were little echoes of small metal pats, as he then jumped onto the nightstand and proceeded to nip the wing of the crow plush, then slowly waddled away).
mephie kidnapped mephie.
a/n: lmao i cant sleep without hugging anything. how i would love to be hugged by sylus.....
