“you want me to hug you?” habit asked, staring at you like you’d lost your mind.
you tilted your head, eyes still teary and your hands bunched in the cuffs of the hoodie you wore. you’d had one of the worst days of your life, and all you wanted was to be held.
“you always hug me,” your voice cracked a little, a fabric-hidden fist lifting to wipe at freshly fallen tears, “do you hate me now? am i too clingy?”
habit slowly, very slowly, pointed at the body slung over his shoulder, “sorry, is there not a fuckin’ guy on my shoulder right now? you want me to group hug with my dinner, sweets?” your reddened eyes scanned the body, a wave of sadness making your shoulders droop.
then, he saw the gears clicking in your head.
“don’t you dare,” he spat, “don’t you fucking do it.”
“please?” your eyes, watery and utterly devastated, met his. the body fell to the ground with an unceremonious thud, and you were grabbed. habit’s teeth sunk into the covered area of your shoulder, grumbling in disdain as he held you.
“just can’t say no to you. pitiful pathetic thing,” he groaned, pulling away. he ignored the minimal blood and grime that had smeared against the front of the garment. his hand reached up, fingers digging into your cheeks and gently shaking your head, “only person in the damn world who pisses me off like this.”
you smiled cutely, and a deep purple hue passed through his irises. habit’s gaze dropped to the ground, boot pushing against the body, “guess i’ll starve. y’need me too much to let me eat, huh?”
he noticed the way you almost curled in on yourself in shame, eyes averting to the floor. “so sensitive today, sweetheart,” he muttered, bending slightly to pick you up. you blinked and the body was gone, and you assumed it was now in his basement—where he would later reconvene.
“the worst,” you whispered as he plopped on the couch. he kept you in his lap, letting you nuzzle up to him. as a result of your hands gently tracing the lines of his palms, habit internally cursed when his chest began to unwillingly rumble with purrs.
he was starving, but he, and he will never tell you this, preferred to cradle you like this over anything else. it inflated his ego majorly, your need to seek him out after a bad day only proving that you do need him.
and he supposed it was nice to be needed.
“love you,” you sleepily mumbled, stifling a giggle when habit heavily sighed.
“you’re a fuckin’ handful.”
he wouldn’t have it any other way.
but don’t tell him that, he hasn’t accepted it yet.