⟢ Sugar & Spice, Love & Hate
⋆˚࿔ Date Everything! Fanfiction
You’re mostly conscious when Dunk sets you down in a chair by the dining table, gaining your strength much more once fully seated. You press your hands into the side of the table to steady yourself, shifting to sit up better, but Dunk gently guides you to lean back instead.
“Don’t put too much pressure on yourself. Just relax, alright?” Dunk says as he picks one of your hands up from the table and looks over your fingers. You see a look of concern wash over his face as he takes in the top segments of your fingers, which are entirely white. He stares at them for a long while, feeling the skin. You feel his touches just fine.
Dunk then looks to you, your hand still held in his.
”Do they feel numb? Can you move them?” He asks.
You wiggle your fingers a bit, curling and uncurling them.
”I can feel everything…” You say and Dunk nods.
You shake your head and Dunk passes your hand over to your other side. Your eyes follow his movements to realize that another person has been at your side this entire time. You’re mildly startled to see Dorian taking your hand to see your fingers. His eyes flick to you as he sees your small jump.
”I saw ‘im carryin’ you in,” he says gruffly, his voice slightly shaken with worry. Dorian had tried to wash away his concern last night after seeing the tips of your fingers white, but now that they’re getting worse, he can’t hide his worry anymore, “You talk to Hector?”
”It’s not cold enough for the AC to have caused this…I don’t think it’s my body’s reaction to the cold—” you argue, but Dunk places his hands on his hips and interrupts you.
”It’s pretty cold outside. Maybe throwing the ball around left your fingers out in the cold air for too long.” Dunk offers, but Dorian seems unconvinced.
“This isn’t a regular reaction to cold air,” he sighs heavily, relenting on that theory and opting to trust you and his instincts that something is wrong further beyond the start of winter nipping at you, “you might be sick.”
”I feel fine,” you say, but Dunk shakes his head.
”Feeling fine doesn’t always mean you’re fine, man. I’ve gotten hurt a lot of ways with that mentality,” Dunk says gently. You look back at your fingers and then to Dorian who’s still focused on your hand, as well.
”I don’t want to hear an ‘I’m fine’, Y/N. If you keep brushin’ this off, you could get hurt again.” Dorian sighs heavily, finally meeting your eyes with a firm gaze. When he takes in the concern on your face, though, he softens his gaze. Scolding you won’t do any good. You’re already freaked out as much as it is. The last thing you need is to be panicking, too.
”I’m sure everything will be okay once we figure out what’s goin’ on,” Dunk reassures you, placing a hand on your shoulder, “maybe your body’s just trying to tell you something.”
”Yeah, but what is it trying to tell me,” you scoff out a weak laugh, “I don’t want my fingers to fall off just because my body’s trying to communicate to me.”
Dorian sighs heavily once more and looks to Dunk.
”How’re you fine?” Dorian asks and Dunk holds up the football he had placed on the dining table after setting you down.
”A piece of me came outside with. I felt fine out there,” Dunk says with a small grin, spinning the football up on his finger before fumbling it with a surprised grunt. You smile a little while watching and chuckle.
”Should he not be fine?” You ask Dorian. Dorian shrugs.
”A lot of us objects are meant to stay in the house we inhabit or else we could get really hurt tryin’ to leave. Some of us, however, like Dunk here, can make it pretty far outside as long as a piece of them’s brought with,” Dorian motions to the football, “exhibit A.”
”Yeah, but I can’t make it far without you, Y/N. Or else it’ll just look like a floating football to others,” Dunk snorts with laughter.
You slowly grin at the thought and laugh, but when your eyes shift to Dorian…you see a very serious expression on his face. His eyebrows knit together a bit as he seems to focus on something in his mind. Your smile slowly fades and you lean in a bit.
He pulls his gaze to you and holds eye contact for a moment before straightening up and adjusting his collar.
”Take it easy today, Y/N. Rest and make sure you aren’t strainin’ your body too hard,” Dorian breathes out with a heavy sigh before patting your shoulder, leaving you a little confused. What was he just thinking about? As Dorian turns to leave, disappearing over by the back door, you shift your focus to Dunk who looks just as confused. Dunk returns your gaze and shrugs a bit.
”Lotta stress on Dorian right now,” Dunk tries to answer your silent question and you just nod, looking to the back door from your seat again.
Dunk pulls up a chair at your side and rests a hand on your shoulder.
”Hey, don’t go blaming yourself now, man. No one blames you for freaking out on Skylar. She probably would’ve scared the shit out of any of us,” Dunk says before squeezing your shoulder, “Besides, everyone here’s much happier that you got the glasses and not the last homeowner. The last one didn’t seem like they’d be any fun to talk to.”
You feel a small smile tug on your lips as you fumble absent-mindedly with the hem of your jacket.
”And I am?” You snort. Dunk grins and nudges you a little.
”Dude, you’re, like, totally cool!” Dunk laughs, “Besides, you’re easy to talk to and gettin’ pretty good with football.”
You grin at his words and roll your eyes a bit.
”Yeah, just one step away from being an expert quarterback.”
Dunk joins in on your laughter, grabbing the football resting on the table. He pushes to stand and ruffles your hair a little.
”Take it easy, alright? I’ll leave you to take a breather.”
You watch as Dunk stands and leaves the dining room, patting your shoulder as he walks by. You watch him go, taking the football with him. You sigh and look back at your fingers, curling and flexing them a few times before putting your hands back in your lap. You don’t want to look at them anymore. They’re only stressing you out.
You move to stand, pushing the chairs back into place. You turn and walk into the kitchen, hoping to be able to relax with coffee or tea. Tea sounds more relaxing than coffee and you can probably make a blend of sorts that will soothe your mind a bit. You remember bringing some of your favorite tea blends with you. You stuffed them into the cabinets somewhere…
Before you can ponder it for too long, you see two people already standing in the kitchen, the sound of the coffee maker beginning to run hitting your ears. You recognize one person, Kopi, already pulling the tea you brought down from the cabinet. You don’t recognize the man standing beside her.
He’s standing with his arms crossed, his eyes focused on Kopi’s gentle handling of the mug resting on the counter as she moves it to fill it with hot water from the coffee maker. He has collarbone-length black hair, half of it pulled up and held in a small bun within what looks like a teacup. He’s wearing what looks like a kimono top with umanori-style pants. The designs on his top and pants are adorned with various dishware items; plates, silverware, and mugs are scattered about his outfit. As he turns to look at you, noticing your entrance, you see freckles scattered over his nose and cheeks, his eyes a dark brown color that seem to soften a little upon seeing you. He turns to face you a little better before speaking.
”Do you like chamomile or lavender?” He asks as you slowly approach him, leaning against the counter once at his side.
”Both are good…” You say before shrugging, “chamomile.”
He nods and calmly picks up a small packet from the tea box, tearing off the top and removing the teabag from it. You watch his hands work, each movement looking almost meticulous. Despite his softness, his hands look somewhat rough from hard labor. You turn your focus to Kopi who’s filling the mug with hot water.
She looks up and leans forward a bit to see you past the man standing between the two of you.
”Good morning, Y/N. How are you feeling?” She asks with a worried smile.
The two of them must have seen Dunk carry you inside. You’re sure quite a few members of the house saw it.
”I feel a little bit better now that I’m inside,” you say, your eyes focused on the steam rising from the mug. You then look to the man beside you, “What’s your name?”
He hands the teabag to Kopi and turns his attention back to you.
”My name is Daisuke,” he introduces himself, “I oversee all of the dishware in your kitchen.”
That much you could have gathered.
”I like your hair,” you say. He blinks a bit, seeming taken aback by the sudden compliment. He shifts to straighten up a bit more and smiles, giving you a small nod of gratitude.
”Thank you,” he says before placing a hand on your shoulder. His touch is delicate, treating you as if you’re a porcelain statue of sorts as he gently turns to you, “Now, you should stay seated while we make you some tea. Considering you were carried in, I think you should rest as long as you can.”
While he is a very soft-spoken man, there’s a firmness to his voice that demands you listen to him. So, you follow his movements, letting him sit you back down in the dining room.
”Right…thank you…” You say gratefully. Daisuke pulls a chair out and sits across from you on the corner of the table, extending a hand to you.
You look from his hand to your own before gently placing your hand in his. You let him pull it a little closer, examining your fingers. You’re sure your hand is going to be like a zoo exhibit until you can fix the problem…
”When did this start?” Daisuke asks.
”Yesterday evening. Well, that’s when I noticed it,” you corrected yourself and he met your eyes, gently pressing his thumbs into the white parts of your flesh.
”And it doesn’t hurt or feel numb?”
You shake your head. He looks back down at your hands, his eyebrows furrowed together as if he’s trying to solve the problem then and there.
”I know,” you sigh, letting him press along your fingers a little longer. Kopi finally carries the steaming mug of chamomile tea over to you, placing it down on the table beside you. You nod and thank her, watching Kopi pull a seat around to Daisuke’s side before sitting and peering over at your fingers.
”Oh, gee…yeah, that doesn’t look normal,” Kopi sighs with a frown before looking up to meet your gaze, “I’m sorry you've been through so much since your move in. First the shock and now this…”
You only smile sheepishly and shrug, using your free hand to grab the handle of the mug and bring it to your lips. You blow the steam away a little before sipping the tea.
”If it continues to spread, I’m sure doctors would usually call for amputation,” Daisuke suddenly says in his calm, stoic-sort of voice. It makes you choke on your tea, sputtering into the cup a bit. Kopi laughs with a worried smile, patting Daisuke's shoulder.
”I don’t think Y/N needs to lose her fingers, Daisuke. She can still feel them perfectly fine. It’s just some discoloration,” Kopi reassures Daisuke (and you). Daisuke looks up to see you clearing your throat after your choke.
”Sorry, I didn’t mean to be so blunt,” Daisuke sighs as he finally releases your hand, letting you hold your mug with both hands, “I was only thinking out loud. It’s good that you can at least feel everything.”
”Any other weird feelings?” Kopi asks, “I mean…why did Dunk carry you inside?”
You pause and move one hand from your mug to feel over your chest a bit, kneading into your flesh as you recall the strange feelings you had felt before.
”Like…shivers. Every now and then. They aren’t awful and they don’t hurt, but…I don’t know what they are.”
Kopi exchanges a worried glance with Daisuke whose gaze hardens once again.
”From your chest?” He clarifies and you nod.
”Yeah, sorta like chills,” you pat your chest gently, “but they go away quickly. I just assumed my body’s getting used to the cold season or…I don’t know.”
”Is that why Dunk carried you in?” Kopi specifies and you nod once more.
”Yeah, but it was bad this time. I was about to catch the ball he tossed to me and I just suddenly felt like my whole body shut down. I could hardly speak,” you say, feeling your stomach knot up a bit at the memory. It was not a great feeling. You definitely don’t want to experience it again.
”Oh jeez…” Kopi says with a wince and Daisuke seems more concerned by your explanation.
”That doesn’t sound…normal,” he says, “do you usually have reactions like that out in cold weather?”
You shake your head as you take another sip of tea, feeling the warm flavor run down your throat. It is soothing, the steam brushing up against your nose and making your head feel warm and fuzzy. It relaxes your nerves from the scare earlier. While you wouldn’t have minded making yourself a cup of tea, it’s much tastier when you’re being taken care of...
”Could be a sickness. I mean, who’s to say it’s connected to your fingers?” Kopi tries to reassure you, but Daisuke himself seems unconvinced.
”We have to think of the body as a whole. I’m sure they aren’t two entirely different reactions,” Daisuke says with a heavy sigh, looking towards you again, “rest, okay? The house is unpacked and there’s no reason to be up and stressing your body anymore.”
”Yeah, take some sick days. Just lounge in bed and let your body decompress. Everyone here is very willing to help get things done for you,” Kopi offers with a reassuring smile.
You smile back, looking at your tea as you think over the offer. Lazy days in bed are always nice, but it’s hard to fully relax when you’re worried about your body. A part of you is thinking against seeing the doctor as the prospect of losing your fingers doesn’t sound…lovely. Still, there are so many more people you’d love to meet and you hate feeling useless…
”I’ll take it easy,” you say with a firm nod. Both Daisuke and Kopi look pleased. Kopi’s smile grows and Daisuke breathes out a small breath of relief, a soft smile tugging at his lips.
”Good. Now, if you need anything else, please do let us know. Or ask Dorian to come get us so that you can rest in bed,” Daisuke says and you nod. Dorian sure is undergoing a lot of stress, so you might end up asking someone else in case you need something. Either way, nodding and agreeing is what puts them at ease.
”Thank you. I’ll be sure to take it easy,” you affirm.
You trudge your way upstairs, slowly regaining your strength as you force yourself to get up and move despite exhaustion. By the time you reach the top of the stairs, you stretch your body upwards with a soft grunt and already feel much better. You aren’t sure what knocked you down and why, considering how bad your collapse was, you feel so much better already. Your eyes drift to the broken pair of dateviators sitting on the small hallway table and you quickly avert your gaze, moving into your bedroom and shutting the door behind you. You lean against it for a moment, sighing softly.
To some extent, it does suck that you can never truly get privacy. Then again, you have yet to really ask for it. Along with that, a part of you is never upset when you get to spend time with one or two of the objects in the house. So, do you actually want to be left alone? No…not really.
You push off the door as your mind reminds you that you’ve basically been leaning against Dorian for a minute. You want to apologize, but you also don’t want to bring attention to the fact that you were just leaning against your door. It’s almost frustrating, living in a house where everything around you is…people. You’re so wary of everything you do now.
Annoyed with yourself and this entire situation you’re stuck in, you close the blinds covering your windows and turn off the lights in your room, collapsing onto your bed and mumbling a soft apology to Betty under your breath. You shift to yank your blankets over your body, burying your face into your pillow. You try to disappear entirely. Forget about your hands. Forget about your new home and the people within it. You try to forget about Skylar and the situation you’ve put her in. You just want to forget all of it.
But peace isn’t easy in a house like that. Well, not an isolated sort of peace, at least.
Especially not when you’ve shrouded your room in darkness.
You feel a presence slowly manifest beside your bed, hearing a voice speak to you so that you don’t have to raise your head and check if someone is really there.
”My…” a deep voice growls, though there’s a sense of concern and pity in the way it speaks, “what troubles you, penumbra…”
Penumbra? Now what the hell does that mean?
You move your head to look to your other side, keeping half of your face smushed into it. You're able to make it out in the darkness, a sort of glow around the large, powerful figure that stands (floats?) beside your bed. A large bundle of shadows, warping and forming a brooding figure that holds only the outline of a ribcage, the muscles of his neck, shoulder, and arms, a head, and hands. The creature of sorts has large, white, claw-like hands, and his head looks like the skull of some animal. He has horns atop his head, curving inwards and menacing. His eyes glow as they gaze at you and, despite his head being just a skull, you can see that his face is formed to portray a look of concern. You stare at him for a long while, just talking him in, before you speak.
”A lot,” you finally answer and he lets out a gruff hum, looking over your form buried in blankets and your face ready to disappear back into your pillow.
”A lot…” he echoes before shifting closer, “so you’ve chosen to find comfort in the darkness?”
His clawed hands each out tentatively, careful not to harm you. He brushes his fingers along your face and traces behind your ear before settling his hand on your blanket-covered shoulder.
”Was hoping it’d help me sleep everything off…” You mumble, your eyes still fixed on him, “Who are you…?”
He seems taken aback by your question, almost as if realizing he was hoping to meet you in a much different way to introduce his powerful presence. He releases your shoulder and straightens up, clenching his clawed hand into a fist.
”I,” he begins, his voice husky and menacing, “am xxXShadowlord420Xxx.”
You stare at him for a long moment, taking in what he just told you. What an interesting gamertag.
”Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind when I add you on Steam,” you muse with a lazy grin against your pillow, “what’s your real name?”
He seems to hesitate, his eyes narrowing at you before he speaks again.
You doubt his statement, but you don’t want to anger someone who seems to want to console you. So, you relent and hum in understanding.
”Cool name,” you assure before asking, “do you have…maybe…a nickname I can use?”
He seems to hesitate once more, thinking over your question before he sighs.
”You…may just call me Shadow Lord, if that would please you.”
It’s not much better, but it sounds a little less like a gamertag. You smile a little and nod.
”Just Shadow Lord sounds good to me,” you say. He seems pleased by your answer and puffs his chest up once more.
”You may call me whatever you please, my penumbra. Your Dark Overlord…the Emperor of Shadows…I will come to fight at your side to whatever you address me as.”
You nod, finally shifting to sit up. You push over to lie on your back rather than your stomach, propping yourself up on your elbows.
”How about ‘Daddy of Darkness’?” You offer with a teasing grin. You see his glowing eyes widen a bit and a small, yellow glow of blush forms across the area of his cheeks and nose. You didn’t know skeletons could blush.
”I…uhm…I would ask you to refrain from using that one,” he coughs awkwardly, “at least…for now.”
You snort and laugh at his flustered reaction, leaning back against your pillows.
”Sorry, I couldn’t resist,” you say before tilting your head back against the pillows, your gaze softening on him, “though I’m glad to know it may grow on you in the future.”
Shadow Lord lets out a sharp breath of flustered annoyance, trying to gather his pride back up. Not to say you necessarily crushed or wounded it, but his confidence was momentarily wavered by your endearing tone. Not in a bad way…
”You have not yet told me the source of your troubles, my penumbra. I wish to know what has brought you to the call of the night,” Shadow Lord asks, shifting the conversation’s attention back onto you. You think about your response for a moment, looking up to the dark ceiling above your head.
”There’s just…a lot going on, I guess. Everything with Skylar and my hands,” you pause, flexing your fingers a bit in front of your face before letting your hand flop back down onto your chest, “Not to mention, I’ve just moved into this damn house and I’m already trying to adjust to a new life. Now, not only do I have to adjust to everything I’ve ever known being left behind, but there are all these new people to meet and deal with all while I’m slowly dying…I think.”
You remember that you’re spilling all of this onto one of said objects you’re slightly venting about and tilt your head to look at him. Shadow Lord hardly looks bothered, listening at your side as he focuses entirely on you. When your eyes meet his, he lets out a deep hum and tilts his head away to look elsewhere.
”Sorry…” You breathe out with a heavy sigh.
”That is a lot to handle, my penumbra. You have nothing to apologize for,” Shadow Lord assures you, his arms crossing over his massive chest, “I too was once in your same position after The Great Cataclysm…”
Your eyebrows furrow at what he says. You shift your position to get a bit more comfortable as you listen to him.
Shadow Lord lets out a heavy sigh, though you’d be lying if you didn’t notice that he seems a bit delighted you asked.
“A tragedy that befell my comrades…” Shadow Lord begins, “A great power beyond my own divided me and my fellow denizens of darkness. I have not seen my allies for a long time.”
Your gaze softens as you listen, sympathizing with his story.
”I, too, found myself weak at that moment. Believe me, my penumbra, I am no weak being,” Shadow Lord says proudly, puffing his chest out a bit before allowing it to deflate as he sighs once more, “but I can admit moments when the world seemed to collapse around me.”
You’re surprised that you can actually empathize with him. You do indeed feel weak more than anything in this moment and the world does seem to be kicking your ass. Maybe your situations are different, very different, but you can understand that you’ve both at least been through…dark times.
”I’m sorry to hear that,” you say, letting your head roll back into place staring at the ceiling, letting out a breath you had been holding deep in your chest. You allow your body to deflate into the bed, your hands folded over your stomach, “…losing your friends…sucks. I mean, it’s not quite the same, but…it was hard letting my friends go when I moved here. Everything I’ve ever known I left behind to come here because I knew it would be better for me. Or…I thought it would be better for me. Doesn’t seem much better now, but—“
”It makes you stronger,” Shadow Lord finished for you and you tilt your head to look at him again, a small smile tugging at your lips.
Shadow Lord’s expression softens as he meets your gaze once more and he hums in agreement.
”I have adjusted well to being the same strong force I once was even while alone. I wish my allies weren’t lost, but…I am proud to say I have never lost myself,” Shadow Lord crosses his arms over his chest once more, “You are strong, my penumbra. I can spot power well and I see it thriving within you. Do not let any great force of power, whether that of which divided me from my friends or that of which changes your body, divide you from yourself.”
You’re taken aback by his words. Who knew XxxShadowLord420xxX would have some powerful words of wisdom for you?
”Thanks, Shadow Lord…” you say, your smile almost glued to your face. Having time alone is great and all, but you always seem to feel a little better when one of the objects is with you. Maybe isolation isn’t quite your style of recovery like it used to be.
Before Shadow Lord can respond, your bedroom door cracks open, immediately making you shift your gaze to the source of light flooding into your room. Illuminated by the hall light, you see two figures standing there. You look back to your bedside, but Shadow Lord is already gone at that point, so you focus back on the door. Having been in your dark room for so long, it takes you a moment to try and figure out who’s standing there, but the lights turn on and you’re quickly able to see who it is.
You see Lady Memoria’s softened gaze of concern, her hand resting over the light switch. Standing beside her, to your surprise, is Cam. His arms are crossed and he looks much less concerned. If anything, he looks like he’s been dragged there by Lady Memoria.
”Oh, my dear…” Lady Memoria presses a hand over her heart as she approaches you, “You look horrible.”
You blink a bit at her words. Do you? You’re sure you don’t look sickly of any sort, but in your position, you probably seem emotionally miserable.
“I’m alright,” you chuckle softly, but Lady Memoria doesn’t seem deterred by your words in the slightest, already at your bedside and brushing her fingers along your forehead before tracing down your cheek. It is a comforting touch, that’s for sure.
”She says she’s fine. Can I go now?” Cam grumbles and Lady Memoria turns to him with an unamused expression.
”Like you have anything better to do. Get in here,” Cam sighs at Lady Memoria’s instructions, stepping into the room and nudging the door shut with his foot. He walks over, almost dragging his feet, before sitting down heavily at your bedside by your hip, his gaze focused on Lady Memoria’s hands as she continues to gently caress your face, “How are you feeling? Physically.”
”Physically, I feel fine. Really.”
You pause at her second question and lean into her touch a little, letting out a soft sigh.
Lady Memoria nods in understanding, shifting to sit down on the bed beside your shoulder. She continues to pamper you with gentle strokes along your head, brushing her fingers along your scalp. She’s got lovely nails and they really do wonders for the headache you’ve been growing.
”I’m sure you are. A lot has happened to you since you’ve gotten here and you’ve left behind many memories,” Lady Memoria sighs softly, her gentle eyes focused on your face. She looks you over fondly, almost like a mother would her child, “your mind and body have odd reactions to change. Of course, I’m not saying your little finger dilemma has to do with change, but the way you feel certainly does.”
You breathe out a soft chuckle at her words, feeling Cam pick your hand up and look over your fingers.
”Jesus Christ. What the fuck even causes this?” Cam grunts and Lady Memoria pushes his hand back down to let you go.
“I’m sure there’s a very reasonable explanation,” Lady Memoria says with an almost warning tone, eyeing him down as if to keep him in check. Cam just crosses his arms and looks away, pissed that he’s being kept on a leash like a dog. You’re not entirely sure if Cam really minds, though.
”I don’t know. I’ve never heard of anything like this outside of hypothermia, but I don’t show any other symptoms of hypothermia, so…it’s not that,” you sigh, wiggling your fingers a little as they rest over your stomach.
”It is troubling,” Lady Memoria says, her fingers not stopping their soothing motions over your scalp, “I’m sure everything will be alright. You make sure to let your body rest, but there’s no need to be stuck up here in your bedroom all day. Isolating yourself in bed will only make you feel worse.”
You can’t deny that. It’s not exactly like you need rest to the extent of being bedridden all day, but you should take it easy on your body. Besides, staying in bed all day doesn’t sound nice. Avoiding leaving the house sounds more reasonable. You still have groceries to get, but with modern technology, you can do your grocery shopping online and have everything delivered to your door nowadays. Maybe staying inside all day won’t be too hard. You just hope a lack of vitamin D doesn’t kick your ass.
”I’ll keep myself social,” you chuckle, only referring to spending time with the others around your house, “isolating isn’t really in my best interest, either.”
Lady Memoria seems pleased by your response, nodding.
”Good. Take care of your health, too. Make sure the kitchen crew are keeping you well fed. I’ll be sure to talk with Mitchell Linn about your comfort foods. I can recall what your parents always made you when you had a cold or the flu all those years ago,” Lady Memoria muses, tapping her head gently as if channeling all those memories you two supposedly share. Your smile grows and you nod. Eating some familiar remedies from your parents does sound nice, “I’m sure Mitchell and Stefan can create a good list and Phoenicia can get a grocery order for you today. You, stay here and relax, at least for today. You’ve had a hard day, it sounds like.”
You feel your heart melt. Being cared for like this reminds you of all the times you stayed home sick as a kid. You never had to worry about a thing, most things were already done around the house by your parents. There were no expectations of you when you were sick. All that was expected of you was to get better and to rest. That you can do.
“Thank you, Memoria…” You breathe out and she smiles, nodding.
”Of course. It’s in all of our best interests that you’re well,” Lady Memoria assures you, “now…get well soon, darling.”
Lady Memoria leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead. You close your eyes, relaxing at the feeling. You’re sure she left behind a black lipstick mark on your head, but you couldn't care less.
Lady Memoria stands up from the bed and nudges Cam with her finger. You had forgotten Cam is even there, Cam having been slumped over and spacing out on the wall the entire time out of boredom.
”You stay here with her. You haven't had anything kind to offer yet,” Lady Memoria says and Cam blinks, sitting up a bit straighter.
”Me? Why the fuck do I gotta play nurse?” Cam scoffs and Memoria just turns away, walking to the door.
”You’re the one who came and told me about what happened to Y/N. If you clearly care enough to pay attention, you can care enough to stay and offer her some support.”
You notice Cam’s face go red, his jaw clenching and his face forming into a mix of embarrassment and annoyance. That makes more sense. Cam is located in the kitchen and he must have heard all the commotion of Dunk carrying you in and the others checking in on you.
”I only went and told you because I know you give a shit about her. I thought you’d wanna know,” Cam argues, defending his own pride. Lady Memoria seems unconvinced, a small grin on her lips.
”Well, that’s very nice of you Cam. If you can do something kind like that for me, you can do something kind for her,” Lady Memoria shoots back.
”Yeah, well, I give a fuck about you. I don’t give a fuck about her—“
”Cameron.” Lady Memoria says firmly. God, that shut him up real quick. Cam’s face heats up a bit more and he drops his head a bit, grumbling in anger. Lady Memoria looks to you once more and she offers a soft smile, “Do kick him out if he continues to be stubborn. I’m sure he’ll gladly listen.”
With that, Lady Memoria leaves the room, closing the door behind her. You look at Cam who’s still sitting on the edge of your bed, looking pissed that he was left behind with you. He was probably dragged to your room in the first place. He most likely just wanted to send Lady Memoria to check on you and had hoped he could stay out of it, but alas, Lady Memoria forced him to tag along to humble his brooding ego a bit. You’re not sure you can keep him in check quite like Lady Memoria can, but you’re sure he also understands that if Lady Memoria finds out he’s a bastard to you, she’ll handle it herself later. Oh, how you love watching hot goth women keep their less-tasteful men on a leash. What an interesting couple phenomenon it is.
“So…” you start, unsure of how to even talk to him without pissing him off further, “…you saw me get carried in, huh?”
”No, I didn’t,” Cam huffs, shifting to face you a bit better, pushing his knee up onto your bed a little to be turned towards you, “I only really noticed when Daisuke and Kopi were talking to you. Thought Memoria would want to know…didn’t think she’d drag me here with her.”
You nod slowly, looking to the door and then back to Cam.
”You can leave if you want. I really don’t care. I mean, I don’t want to keep you here against your will,” you offer.
Cam pauses and shifts his gaze to the door, then to his own hands resting on the bed. He sighs heavily.
”Nah, I’ll just…wait a little. I’m sure Memoria will kick my ass if I just leave you, anyway.”
Cam doesn’t want to leave, that much you can tell. He needed a good reason to come see you and, as much as he wants to deny it, he doesn’t feel like leaving just yet now that he’s gotten some time alone with you. You’re not an idiot. You can recognize begrudging fondness when you see it. Still, you know Cam doesn’t want it pointed out and you don’t feel like pushing him out of his comfort zone more than he already is.
”Alright, well…you can stay then,” you say, looking away.
You and Cam sit in silence for a long while, Cam fidgeting with your comforter out of boredom. He’s looking anywhere but you while you’re having no issue examining his features and style a bit more now that you have the proper time to do so.
”How often do you take care of yourself?” You finally speak up. Cam finally meets your gaze, raising an eyebrow at your question. You’d found out that he doesn’t clean himself nearly as often as he should from an earlier conversation with him, but you’re curious to hear more.
”Often enough,” Cam finally responds. Ah, so not that often, “why?”
”I dunno…I’m just curious. You look kind of a mess.”
”I don’t know!” You laugh, crossing your arms over your chest, “I’m just wondering if you actually don’t take care of yourself or if that’s just your look.”
Cam stares at you for a moment before huffing out a laugh, rolling his eyes.
”Yeah, well, glad you’re taking notice of my aesthetic,” Cam says with a wry grin, “I take care of myself plenty. I’m not an incompetent dumbass.”
You feel your smile grow a bit and you snicker softly.
Cam can’t hide his smirk at your words. He scoots a bit closer on your bed, leaning in a little.
”You think I look gross, huh?”
You feel your face heat up a bit at his words mixed with his increase in proximity. You snort softly and look away.
”You’re surprised?” You huff out with a soft laugh. Cam shrugs.
”Nah, not really. It’s kind of what I’m going for,” Cam says, “I just like hearing you say it.”
Cam seems to enjoy being stuck in here with you much more now. Considering his slow lean towards you, you’re sure it's now you stuck in here with him.
There’s a small pause. Well, that cocky response didn’t really do much for you. You can feel your pride starting to wither away under the demeaning gaze he has on you. God damn, does this man flip like a switch.
”You said you’re feeling physically healthy, yeah?” Cam snorts and you nod, sinking back into your pillows a little more.
”Good. I don’t wanna get sick because of you,” Cam grunts as he scoots closer and presses a hand into the pillow beside your head, “you need something to distract yourself from total depression, huh? Being stuck in your bed all day and all like a fuckin’ loser.”
You blink a little, your face heating up as he leans over you. You’ve never really gotten the chance to be this close to him. The last time he deliberately flirted with you was when he stared you down while licking syrup off his fingers. You realize calling him gross may have had the opposite effect on him than you were originally intending, but you’d be lying if this wasn’t a much better outcome.
”Yeah, a distraction would be nice…” You breathe out.
Cam reads you loud and clear.
There’s no need for any other words. He got the response he wanted and the green light to hook his fingers under your neck and lean in. He smashes his lips against yours, but it’s certainly not an aggressive kiss which you’re honestly surprised about. It’s firm, but it’s very sloppy. He doesn’t seem to have much care for how he kisses you and that’s something you were expecting. Unsure of what to do with your hands once your eyes flutter closed and you lean into his lips, you find yourself just gripping the plastic-material of his top for stability. You feel like you’re in an awkward position, but you don’t care about much else except for the feeling of his lips on yours.
He doesn’t taste half-bad. There are many factors to the kiss that keep surprising you. He certainly tastes like food, whatever the Hell he dug out of the trash to eat before kissing you. It’s not a comforting thought, but considering Cam’s odd charm, it made the kiss much hotter.
Halfway through your kiss, Cam hardly offers you a moment to breathe as he presses his thumb into the hinge of your jaw. It makes your mouth loosen open a little and he uses this advantage to immediately get a taste inside your mouth. He kisses dirty, that’s for sure, but what else can you expect from your trash can? The feeling of his tongue swiping against yours sends a shiver through your body. It’s not like the shiver that knocked you down earlier. It’s a more natural shiver that you’ve felt before in…other instances. It’s one that jolts your body into motion, making one hand slide up to his shoulder as the other reaches up and grips a handful of his hair. Upon doing so, with Cam’s mouth somewhat open, he can’t hide the shuddered groan that leaves his mouth. You feel his grip on your jaw return to the back of your neck. He squeezes it, kissing you firmly one last time before pulling up. He pants for a moment, as do you. It doesn’t take long before a familiar lazy grin spreads across his face.
You blink a bit and sputter out a response, finally feeling your head clear after a kiss like that.
”Hardly. I just grabbed your hair.”
Cam reaches up along your hand and pulls it down from its loose grip on his hair, tilting his head to the side a bit to meet its departure with a long lick from your wrist to your whitened fingers. You shudder at the feeling, scrunching your nose up a bit in disgust.
Cam chuckles and releases your hand, letting you wipe it off on your shirt. You’re almost surprised you didn’t get groped at all during that brief makeout session. Aside from the squeeze on your neck and his hand gripping the pillow under your head, he didn’t really feel you up. You wonder if it has to do with your earlier weakened physical state.
“You’re a good kisser,” Cam said, sliding his hand from your neck to your lips. He swipes his thumb along your lower lip and you allow him to do so.
”Barely. I just kind of…laid there,” you mumble against his thumb and he grins.
”Yeah, well, that’s kind of what I wanted you to do, anyway,” Cam snickers, shifting to get up from your bed, “I did all I could. Get better soon, spicy.”
You’re almost left stunned as Cam leaves your room. That’s it? You feel over your lips which are still tingling from the kiss. You can still taste Cam in your mouth. The thought alone makes your face go red. Well, there’s a second object you’ve gotten somewhat heated with. You can’t even imagine how you’re going to handle more moments like that with the others on top of everything that’s already been happening to you. You can’t say you’re complaining, though.
Your head feels fuzzy. You’re left to be able to do nothing except lay your head back down and stare at the ceiling, processing the dirty kiss you just shared with Cam. You’re sure it wasn’t what Lady Memoria meant in instructing Cam to stay and care for you, but you know Cam well enough to know it’s his own way of care. His own sleazy way, but a way you welcomed nonetheless.
