teeny little rhett abbott fluff because i miss him
rhett abbott wasn’t a crier.
or at least, it wasn’t his first response to something upsetting him. the first was to find a distraction, whether it was going for a ride or a drink. the second was punching something (or somebody), or just getting into plain mischief.
so it was needless to say that he was not a movie crier.
not until tonight, at least.
you’d been dating rhett for about four months now, and your go-to dates were movie nights at your place, cuddled up on the sofa with your head on his shoulder and a bowl of your favorite snack between you.
simple, inexpensive, and intimate.
most times, you’d forget about the movie about thirty minutes into it and end up making out instead.
you’d chosen a childhood classic— spirit: stallion of the cimarron.
and you’d never seen rhett abbott so taken by something as simple as a movie before.
but he was fully immersed in this tale, staring at the screen with those expressive eyes of his, taking in every song, every moment, every word spoken.
and it was so endearing to you.
“baby?” you called softly for him, lifting your head to look up at him with a little hum. he was too quiet— he was never this quiet during a movie.
but it was then you felt him exhale shakily.
rhett cleared his throat suddenly, and sniffled with his head turned away from you.
you noticed then that he was crying.
“rhett?” you questioned, unable to hide a little grin as you looked at him. you couldn’t stifle your giggles. “baby? are you… crying?”
“maybe a little, yeah…” he murmured, pouting with red cheeks and wiping his tears with the back of his fist. “hey, don’t laugh at me…”
you looked over at the tv screen— you were barely twenty minutes into the movie. they’d just captured spirit.
“you can’t take me” had gotten him, and you couldn’t blame him.
“was it the song?” you asked, earning a little nod from him.
“yeah, it was the song,” he said quietly, shifting to place his head on your chest as you laid back on the couch. “it was a good song…”
you brushed your fingers through his dark hair, giving a little giggle. “you think this one’s good, you’re gonna love the next one,” you replied, placing a kiss onto the top of his head.
his arms curled around your middle, hands slipping beneath the fabric of your shirt so he could press his fingers into your skin to ground himself. “yeah?” he asked you.
you tipped your head to look down at him with a little smile, curling a strand of his hair around your forefinger. “yeah. reminds me of you, actually…”
you received no response. when you looked down again, you found your boyfriend fully engrossed in the movie again, his cheek squished against your tits.
oh, he’d love “get off my back”.
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