have I known you twenty seconds (or twenty years?) | a.b
Tags: shyish bau!reader, established relationship, reader had an undescribed surgery, post-op amnesia, fluff, soft alex, use of petnames, no use of yn
Summary: Alex reminds you of things you've forgotten.
Word count: 1.1k
You can’t really focus on anything except for the scratch of your hospital gown and the fact that you’re being spoon fed red jello by Alex Blake. Alex Blake, no nonsense and kind, professor and fellow FBI agent, your crush for far too long to keep track of, spoon feeding you red jello. Sitting in a chair tilted toward your bed, she’s completely at ease, slivering down a spoonful and wiping the corner of your mouth with a tissue as if it’s something she does on the daily.
You flush. Hard. Cherry thick on your tongue, you still at her closeness, your muscles frozen against swallowing.
Sharp-eyed, Alex doesn’t miss a thing. “Full?” She asks in that quiet way of hers, the one that makes a mundane question sound breathtakingly intimate.
Jello smushes under your teeth. You finally get yourself to swallow, shivers pouring down your spine as you do. The taste of her hand is in your mouth.
Alex shifts closer to your bed, frowning. “Honey? What is it, are you alright?”
Your pulse shoots up. Sweat dampens your hands, a hitch forming in your breath.
Why in the world is Alex Blake calling you honey?
She’s still looking, still frowning. Her hand finds yours; you think she might ring some alarm if you don’t shove something out of your mouth soon. “Fine.” You manage. “I’m fine.”
She’s unconvinced. “Should I call for the nurse? Talk to me, what’s going on?”
You’re useless again, because her fingers twine through yours. They settle snugly in the gaps between your own fingers and your eyes drop to the overlap of your skin against hers. A hollow thud sounds in your chest, roaring in your ears as she squeezes firmly, her thumb skirting the back of your hand.
“Sweetheart.” She murmurs.
Your eyes snap up to hers. “That.” You croak. “Wha—why are you calling me that? And why are you…feeding me?” Your cheeks flame at the words, mortification white-hot in your veins, fluttering wings catching between your ribs.
“Oh.” Alex sets the jello down. In an instant, she goes liquid, relaxed; a delicate smile plays on her lips, small and amused and entirely too soft. She takes her hand back and leaves yours wanting, nimbly slotting a few strands of hair behind her ear. “You don’t remember, do you?”
It’s like someone just plopped you in the midst of a board game with no instructions. You blink. “Remember what?”
“That we’re dating.” She says plainly, so simple and straightforward you choke on air.
“We’re—what?” She meets your wide-eyed stare with practiced calm. “No. No way,” you mumble.
“I didn’t know I was that horrible of a prospect.” Alex muses.
Your mouth drops open in horror. “No, that’s not what I—”
Your stomach audibly rumbles. Thunder-loud, a long string of protests seeping through your thin gown and pooling in the air between you. Alex picks up the jello again and scoops up a spoonful. “C’mon, hon, just a few more bites.”
You’re composed of flames. This must be a parallel universe, you think deliriously, some paradoxical world where your dreams have bled into one another and enveloped you in them. Maybe you’re running a fever. Or your pining has finally put you six feet underground.
You’re distantly aware of Alex leaning across the handle of your bed. “Do you want me to stop?” She asks, her voice wrapped in cotton.
No.
You can’t look at her. Alex laughs softly. The sound sends your heart in a tailspin, thumping loudly again in your chest. Your mind trips over her words and frantically searches your gauzy memory. But you don’t remember. And that on its own is an impossibility; you could never forget a thing about Alex Blake.
Least of all that she’s your girlfriend.
You blink, dizzy. “I can’t…how—? Did I ask you out?”
“Do you think you did?” She asks, gently smoothing hair away from your face. Even in your blurred haze, you know: Alex can be teasing when she wants to be.
“I don’t think so.” You say haltingly.
She looks at you fondly. “You did.” It shocks you enough that you dumbly let her feed you the last few spoonfuls of the jello. You have no choice but to swallow it down, letting it dampen your dry throat and quiet your hunger.
Alex quietly examines you. You lick cherry from the backs of your teeth.
“So you’re my…girlfriend.” You gather the courage to say when the weight of her stare has gotten too heavy.
Her smile is small. She nods. “I am.”
“And I can—” your voice fades. You swallow hard. “Kiss you.”
“If you want to.”
You fidget with the blanket draped over your legs; Alex’s warm brown gaze renders it unnecessary. “Do you want to?”
“I always want to.”
Your eyes flit away, overwhelm crowding your lungs. Air thins; soft waves of Alex’s perfume waft over to your nose, trace particles slipping between your lips. Her thumb traces your cheek, mouth calling your name. It’s so tender you melt, leaning into her hand as she gently nudges your jaw until your eyes meet hers again.
“Do you want to?” She asks quietly.
A desperate yes gets stuck in your throat. You can’t push it out, can hardly do anything except tilt your chin towards hers, your fingers resting against the handle of your bed. You want to tangle them in her soft, soft sweater, feel the rise and fall of her chest beneath your knuckles, but you can barely say yes.
You’re on the verge of saying please when Alex takes mercy on you and kisses you.
Her mouth is warm, her touch assured. Your fingers find themselves knotted in her hair, the side of your chest pressed against the ledge of the bed. At least you haven’t forgotten this.
“’Lexis.” You sigh into her mouth.
Alex smiles. You feel it, right there against your lips, her voice pressing into your teeth. “Hi, my darling.”
She gives you one more soft kiss, her thumb tracing the underside of your jaw where your pulse loses control of itself. The scent of her pleasantly smudges your vision. You feel like you’re rolled in cotton—hazy, blurred. “I think I’m dreaming.” You mumble.
“You’re not.” She rubs your arm. “Just very very drugged up.”
It’s like she melted all the bones in your body. You sink against her side, nose in her neck, your arm pressed into cold, unyielding plastic. Her touch says you’ve done this a thousand times before. So does the droop of your shoulders. But you comb through the thinning fog of your memory and come up empty.
“I don’t remember us.” You say quietly.
Alex kisses your forehead. Your eyes flutter closed, your heart jumping at the soft cushion of her lips. “You will.”
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