Summary: Stumbling upon a smoke-filled alleyway at dusk, [Y/N] learns that sometimes, one can find warmth in even the darkest of places.
Chronology: None.
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It was late in the afternoon that day, the sun had already started setting over the city. [Y/N] was making her way back to her apartment, mindlessly strolling down the streets with her headphones on, until her nose picked up on a rather odd smell.
Is that... the smell of cigarette? But...
While plenty of people would smoke around her neighborhood and the smell would become recognizable in an instant, that particular kind somehow caught her attention.
The young woman looked in the direction of the odor, which seemed to be emanating from deep within an alley; for some inexplicable reason she could not quite justify, she felt compelled to follow the smell, her steps a little hesitant as she braved the darkness and walked away from the lively, vibrant streets.
Why am I not going back home like I was supposed to? What am I even doing right now? I probably shouldn't be here... Especially for something as trivial as some weird smell...
But before she could find any answers to any of her questions, she paused her movements the moment her eyes, having adjusted to her dimly-lit surroundings spotted a man sitting down on the ground, his back to a wall. A cigarette trapped between his lips, he exhaled a slow, green cloud of smoke.
Then, though his eyes remained hooded by his hat, what |Y/N] could see was his head turning to look up at her.
"... Hey there." He casually said, a smile on his face, his tone friendly.
Too friendly. She thought.
"H-Hello, sir..." She said in response as she slowly took off her headphones, letting them hang around her neck.
He could hear the uncertainty in her voice, and he could see it, as well: out of fear, or perhaps simply out of instincts, [Y/N] clutched her purse a bit tighter against her side, her eyes not leaving the mysterious man's face, still half concealed.
Noticing the slight, almost imperceptible movement, he let out a chuckle, the sound surprisingly reassuring to hear.
"Easy there, little lady. No need to be scared, I'm not gonna hurt you." He told her with a smile as he puffed out more smoke. "And why the 'sir'? Do I really look that old now?"
"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you in any way." She explained herself, feeling extremely awkward at the unexpected situation she had found herself in. "It's just... I live in this neighborhood, and I've never seen you around here..."
And yet... He doesn't actually look like such a bad man, on closer inspection.
[Y/N] allowed herself to take a good look at him from where she was standing: from what she could see through the dark enveloping him, she could tell he seemed to be relatively tall and strong, though that might have been in part due to his baggy clothes hiding his true figure. Moving up to his face, she had to admit he, indeed, did not look old; probably not enough to be called 'sir' by a 23-year-old woman.
He must be in his early- to mid-thirties, at most. She estimated.
But although he was shrouded by smoke and shadows, there was something about him that convinced her he was kind, that he would not do anything to her.
The man could feel her eyes roaming over his form, he could feel she was undeniably inspecting him from head to toe. And that made him chuckle once more, the situation amusing and almost entertaining to him. Undisturbed by her gaze, he let her carry on with her examination with a gentle smirk, following her eyes as they briefly flicked to his lips the moment they puffed out yet another cloud of smoke.
"... Then again, it's not like I roam these alleyways often." She added in a softer, slightly quieter voice, her eyebrows raising for a split second. "... I suppose I wouldn't know what's going down here most of the time, nor who lives here."
He hummed thoughtfully, bringing his cigarette back up to his lips as he listened to her.
"You got a point." He said with a shrug, his mouth still leaking green smoke. "But that makes me curious, little lady. If you don't usually hang around this corner of town, why is it you're here right now?"
That sense of awkwardness was back, only this time it brought embarrassment along with it.
"W-Well... To tell you the truth, it's your smoke that drew me here. Or, rather, its smell, I should say." She admitted truthfully, but for some reason felt bad about it. "I was walking down the streets, on my way home when I smelled it... and decided to trace it back to its source, I suppose."
"Heh, I sorta had a hunch that's what it was." He tilted his head to the side in response as he spoke.
For a moment, he held his silence as his gaze began to jump from one part of her body to another: his eyes were still completely invisible to hers, tucked away in the shadows of his hat, but she could still feel their weight on her.
Then, his smirk widened and out came a deep, throaty chuckle; one that strangely made her hold her breath.
"... Still, I wouldn't have bet on the smell of smoke catching the interest of a girl like you." He stated, his left arm now resting over his knee. "... You a fan of cigarettes, little lady?"
"Not... necessarily, no." She answered honestly.
But if I really am honest, why does it feel as though I should have answered him differently?
"It's more so because of the smell itself..." She added, stubbornly continuing to try to find his eyes. "I know what cigarettes smell like... Hell, a few friends of mine smoke pretty regularly. But the odor of yours... is kind of odd... I've never really smelled anything like it before."
[Y/N] watched the smoke leave the cigarette in his hand and float upwards, its green hue slightly glowing amidst the dark.
"... And I guess I kind of just got curious when I smelled it and wanted to know what it was exactly." She finished with a shrug.
Only then did it hit her.
"I didn't mean to intrude or disturb you- I'm sorry if I've bothered you by coming all this way-"
"Woah, there." He interrupted her, his head slowly shaking from left to right. "You don't gotta be so quick to apologize, you're not bothering me one bit by being here."
His voice echoed within her, his words resonated inside her mind: just like that, with only a sentence and a smile, he had managed to make her feel reassured.
"Really, you're all right." He added, hands gesturing, smoke swaying in the air from between his fingers. "If anything, I should thank you for the company. I appreciate it."
... God, this man looks lonely.
She could not bring herself to smile, no matter how warm and comforting his tone sounded: she felt a great deal of pity for him, at the sight before her.
I feel so sorry for him... yet I don't even know who he is. He seems so kind, so good... so deserving of something more than this, something better than this...
Thinking back to his words, still bouncing around her brain, her gaze turned downward, the green cloud leaving her sight for the first time that evening.
He really does appear to have no one by his side... I know you're not supposed to talk to strangers, especially if they're a shady-looking man smoking in the corner of a dank alley in the early evening... but, maybe, it's not so bad I ran into him... or, rather, that he ran into me.
Clearly, he could tell something had ticked in the young woman.
"Feeling alright, little lady?"
But he already knew the answer.
Having died out after one last inhale, the dry cigarette butt came crashing down on the musty concrete, the stranger letting it drop after he had pinched it with his fingers; he was quick to pull another one out, wasting no time to place it between his lips.
"You're looking kinda distressed." He continued, his words accompanied by the click of his lighter.
His tone was light as he spoke, his expression still gentle, yet it sounded as though the worry he felt for her was genuine.
It took some time, but eventually his words reached [Y/N]'s ears and pulled her out of her thoughts. She blinked rapidly, as if to redirect her focus back to him.
"I'm fine..."
The words slithered out of her mouth, almost like they were instinctive for her; she shook her head, slowly, once, twice, her eyes closed, her thumb and index finger on the bridge of her nose.
"But thank you for your concer-"
Her sentence was abruptly cut off by her own eyes opening to an unexpected sight.
The man's arm was extended, his hand within her grasp, his fingers offering her his cigarette.
"You look like you could use a smoke." He said, the corners of his lips still turned upward into a smile. "It'd help you relax."
The warmth of his tone matched that of the mist that slowly, gently rose between the two of them, its green coloring still as mesmerizing to the young woman. His hand was immobile, frozen in mid-air as he held the stick of tobacco and patiently waited for her to make a decision.
And then, he uttered words that would forever alter the course of her life; words that would forever mark her; words that would forever symbolize a new beginning, for both of them.
"... Why don't you sit down with me and have a drag?"
Summary: [Y/N], a young woman under the supervision of Rick Grimes gets confronted in Alexandria by Negan during one of his weekly supply runs, before he eventually makes them an offer: in exchange for not taking any of Alexandria's resources for the time being, he wishes to temporarily take her instead…
Chronology: Issues #100 - #115.
~~~~~~~~~~
"He'll be here in a couple hours or so... should be, at least."
"I know."
"I need you to stay put when he shows up, alright?"
"Anywhere you want me to be in particular?"
"No... As long as you make sure to keep as much distance away from him as possible."
We looked ahead, staring at the gentle swaying of the trees on the other side of the street. And we both kept quiet, simply listening to the noises of agitation slowly rising in the air, all coming from the direction of the main gate.
"... You know, I'm not a kid, Rick." I eventually said after some time.
"I never said you were, [Y/N]."
"Even though you sure as hell treat me like one."
"Is that really how you see things?" Rick asked as he turned his body to me, staring me down. "[Y/N], I'm only trying my absolute best to protect you, here. I'm not sheltering you, I'm not forcing you to stay inside and hidden, I'm not holding your hand and telling you what to do... Am I?"
"No, you're not. But you treat me like Carl. You treat me like I can't handle myself and can't think for myself. I'm not like him, Rick—"
"Trust me, that's one thing I wholly agree with you about."
"Seriously, you don't have to tell me about it." I said with a scoff. "I know what he's made of, what he's capable of, what he's been through... I haven't been here for all of it, but enough to know your son's no ordinary little boy. And I mean this in the most positive way possible. Hell, sometimes I even wonder if he isn't actually stronger than me."
"He's not, I can tell you that much." He responded as he looked down at the ground. "He likes to put up this front, convince everyone he's stronger than most and doesn't back down easily... and part of it is true, but I know he's scared deep down, I know he has doubts, he just doesn't like letting it show... he thinks people won't think as highly of him if he shows weakness."
"Hmm, funny how this description reminds me a lot of another Grimes I know of..." I joked with a gentle elbow nudge.
"Tell me about it..." Rick sighed. "He has only grown out to be like this after looking up to me and mimicking my behavior so much... I actually feel more guilty about it than you know, and more than he knows... more than anyone knows, really..."
I took a step closer to him and gently rested both of my hands on his shoulders, a soft expression on my face he could not see, as his eyes remained closed.
"Hey, I know enough as it is... We don't have to get into any of this right now, Rick. Besides, it's really not the place nor the time. We've got to keep our heads in the game."
I gave him some time to recompose himself, after which I let go of him and buried my hands back inside my pockets.
"All I'm trying to make you understand is, you don't have to worry about me more than you do any of the others. Watching over Carl? I get it, he's your son, I know damn well you'd do about anything for him. But I don't want you to take extra measures to protect me, and you have no reason to."
"[Y/N], how could you say that?" Rick asked, sounding almost offended. "Carl is my son, of course... But I still care about you, about Andrea, about Michonne, about everyone here living with us. Just because we're not blood doesn't mean I shouldn't ensure your safety just the same."
With those words, the emotions in his gaze changed, shifting from frustration to anger.
"Besides, you're wrong. I do have reasons to take extra measures to protect you."
"Really? Against what?"
"Do you even need to ask?" He rhetorically said as he grabbed my arm. "I see the way that bastard looks at you whenever you enter his field of vision... I don't like it."
"Trust me, I like it about just as much as you do... But he's Negan, Rick. He looks at every woman the same way, in his eyes I'm not any different from his harem of 'wives' Carl told us about."
"And that's precisely what worries me, [Y/N]." He continued, his left hand still grabbing my arm. "I wouldn't trust a man like him around any woman. So I need you to promise me to always keep your gun on you at all times when he's around. I know you're not too fond of firing your pistol, and I know you're not the sharpest shooter out of all of us, but you know enough to defend yourself if things go south—"
"Woah, woah, Rick!" I cut him off as I shook my head, opening my arms and making him lose his grip on me in the process. "What are you talking about, here? You think I'm going to kill Negan? Have you lost your mind, even suggesting anything like that ever happening? Even if I wanted to— Hell, even if I could, I don't think it'd ever be possible for me to go through with it. I'm not saying I'm a pussy who's afraid of him... Though, I can't deny I'm not too at ease just breathing close to him... But have you seen him? That motherfucker is shaped like a refrigerator, he's almost two heads taller than me, and twice my weight— And it's all muscles... Seriously, Rick, what could I ever do to him?"
"Thanks, you're really helping me feel reassured about you..." He let out, upset, as he rubbed his eyes.
"And you know it's not just his physique that's the problem." I added. "That man is fucked in the head, he's a psycho, a killing machine, a ruthless and unpredictable sociopath. And on top of that, he's smarter and more cunning than he lets on... With or without weapons, he could beat me into the ground in no less than 10 seconds if he wanted to."
"You really think I don't know that? I know he could kill me without breaking too much of a sweat if he really felt like it, and I know I'd be damn powerless against him if that was to happen. So trust me, I have a good idea of how easy it'd be for him to attack you. But your gun's not useless. It never is. If you use it intelligently, to your advantage, it can save your life, even if you're not using it to try and take his."
Another moment of silence settled between the two of us, albeit only briefly.
"... I hear you." I finally said in response, somewhat reluctant to admit he was right. "But don't you worry, I might not enjoy toying around with my pistol too much, but I still sure as hell like to have it holstered around my belt, carrying it around feels good... feels safe."
"That's all I wanted to hear." He said affectionately as he placed his hand on my back. "And thank you, [Y/N]."
"Of course... Rick."
God damn it... I almost called him "dad" again... I thought to myself, feeling my smile slowly fading away. I know it's no big deal, I've let it slip out before, and he didn't make a fuss about it... but I know it's still hard for him to hear it, no matter how much he tries to convince me he's comfortable with it...
I took a deep breath in and closed my eyes in an attempt to regain my composure, not wanting Rick to start worrying even more about me.
I just need to give him some time, to let it go for now, as best as I can, and I'll only—
"That's earlier than expected—" Rick suddenly spoke up, pulling me out of my thoughts.
"What's up?"
Already walking away from me, he did not bother to turn back my way.
"He's here."
Looking in the direction of where he was headed, my eyes landed on the main gate once again, only this time the other side was even more crowded, and not with the dead.
"All right... I'm going to stay by the house." I told Rick before I began turning around myself. "But if I see or hear anything suspicious around here, I can't promise I won't come running to you."
Without another word from either of us, I swallowed the lump of tension trapped inside of my throat and promptly made my way back home, located only a few houses away. I walked without looking back at what was happening behind me, no matter how tempting it was; once having arrived at my destination, I crossed into the small yard and stopped just at the bottom of the steps leading up to our front door. And now came the real challenge: waiting.
I had never been much of a patient individual all my life, and unfortunately for me, the zombie apocalypse we had to live through had only made it worse. But it was at its worst when it had to do with the others, especially Rick. I had come to learn how much of a problem magnet that man was over my time living by his side, and I had also come to learn that wherever he would go, trouble would always follow. And when the trouble following him in question was a near 6' 5" sociopath wielding a baseball bat craftily wrapped in barbed wire, the wait was particularly agonizing.
But I sucked it up and carried his orders, staying put right where I was standing, not moving a muscle, aside from the ones in my neck as I continuously scanned from right to left the street a short distance away from me, watching out for any danger. And just then, my eyes did catch sight of danger: walking down past our house and into the heart of our town was Negan, standing right beside Rick, the two men seemingly in the middle of a serious conversation.
I watched them walk slowly, watched him, a faint sense of unease growing within my stomach; until I watched him suddenly turn his head to me, my heartbeat rising and my eyes widening while his gaze met mine. I froze in place and held my breath as I saw the smile on his lips, a smile I had seen before but which still felt just as unsettling, just as troubling, and just as soul-stirring. I could not bring myself to look away, nor to even blink once, my gaze escorting him down the street, as if afraid to break eye contact with him, as if convinced he would disappear into thin air the moment I would lose sight of him.
Until, eventually, he turned back to Rick and carried on with his end of the discussion, his cold grin slipping from his lips as though he had not just laid eyes on me, as though only a split second had gone by. And there I was, left alone to stand on my front porch, my thoughts completely jumbled up and my emotions scattered about inside me. With Negan and Rick out of my sight, I was left with nothing but time on my hands, so I took the opportunity to quickly get inside the house and grab myself a large drink of water, my throat feeling surprisingly dry; then, just as quickly as I had entered, I stepped back outside, reclaiming my position in front of the steps. And it was back to waiting for me. Waiting for this whole thing to be over, waiting for The Saviors to leave our town, along with half of our resources, a deal I was still very bitter over, but I knew it could not be helped: after what had happened to Glenn, it was clear to me that it was either our rations, or our lives.
Besides, I knew Rick had things under control, I was well aware of his plan: playing along with the contract agreement, making everyone believe Negan had him under his thumb, not going against his orders, while he was actually secretly planning for an attack against him and his army, buying time to build one of his own and retaliate. I found it clever, although undeniably risky, and so I did not bother questioning it.
Rick knows what he's doing. It really is a fucking pain in the ass that The Saviors have to drop by here every now and then to steal half of our shit, in addition to spreading fear among everyone... But it's only necessary for now, it won't last. Eventually, Rick will restore Alexandria and its people to the way they were before, I know he will... I believe in him, and I know so does everybody else.
With that last note of hope in mind, I resumed my job as lookout, carefully observing the perimeter around me to make sure nothing was getting out of hand; growing tired of standing on my feet after a few minutes of uneventful waiting, I began contemplating the idea of taking a seat by the stairs, my legs already starting to feel sore.
There's a whole lot of jackshit happening... Truly no reason for me to stay mounted like this, really. It seems there's nothing to worry about today... I suppose I was too paranoid, as usual.
Yet, before I had time to even turn around and crouch down over the steps behind me, I realized my paranoia had not been unfounded, the moment I saw Negan walking back up our street, on his own, his only companion being the baseball bat resting on his shoulder, with Rick nowhere in sight.
Why's he not with him? I anxiously asked myself.
But as quickly as it had emerged, I discarded my question and brushed it aside: there was no cause for concern, no need to panic, as Rick was surely just busy preparing a part of our offerings to give to The Saviors, while Negan was simply making his way back to his men by their truck. And I was quite convinced that was the truth, up until he turned his attention my way once again and stared me right in the eyes, just as he had done a few minutes prior. Except this time, Rick was not by his side to keep him busy, keep him focused; except this time, he stopped in the middle of the street, his gaze getting my blood pumping. It was then that I felt my entire body suddenly tense up, as he started to unexpectedly make his way towards me, losing all interest in the road he was walking to instead approach the house, his steps slow and heavy, but assured.
Keep calm... Nothing's going to happen... Simply breathe deeply and don't let him sense your fear.
But it was much easier thought than done, and my right hand twitched ever so slightly as it instinctively came to rest on my belt, near my gun. I gulped and straightened my back before I took a couple of hesitant steps in his direction, ready to stand my ground.
"My, my... What do we have here?" He asked as he stepped into the front yard, arms wide open. "Left all fucking alone out here, aren't you, sweetheart?"
His smile was even more bloodcurdling up close. Having stopped barely a foot in front of me, his figure towered over mine, forcing me to crane my neck upwards to look at his face; by simply standing so close to him, I could feel my heart hammering away in my chest, so fast it almost hurt.
"... Well?" Negan asked with a raised eyebrow, his head slightly cocked. "I'm goddamn nice enough to take some of my very precious time and spend it on you, and you won't even fucking indulge me in some small talk?"
My palms already getting sweaty, I slowly clenched and unclenched my fists as I held my breath.
"... Alright, got a topic of discussion in mind?" I asked him in return, my tone solemn.
"As a matter of fact, I do. You." He answered as he pressed his right index finger against my collarbone. "Your name, for starters. Third time I've laid eyes on you and no one's ever fucking bothered telling me what your name is around here. Fucking shame, I know."
"... It's [Y/N]." I told him after a brief moment of silence.
"Marvelous." He said, his grin growing slightly larger. "I won't forget it any time soon, cross my goddamn heart and hope to fucking die... Pardon my poor choice of words, shouldn't throw around phrases like that these days."
I silently listened to him chuckle, still looking up at his face, although it was becoming harder and harder for me to maintain eye contact with him, my instincts screaming at me to lower my gaze, else I would soon come to regret it; just then, he opened his eyes back and it was now too late for me to back down, finding myself trapped once more in the hazel of his irises.
"Correct me if I'm wrong, [Y/N], but you weren't one of the poor bastards who were part of the little run-in me and my men had with your people, were you?" He asked while placing his right hand on his hip, his other still holding onto his deadly weapon.
"Yeah... That's right, I wasn't there."
"Didn't think so." He said with a slow and steady nod, seemingly deep in thought.
"But Rick told me everything." I promptly added, my tone bitter.
"I'm sure he did. I mean, let's not fucking kid ourselves here, we both know— Everyone here knows I made them sit through that shit for a reason." He declared proudly. "I had one hell of a message to get across, and first impressions always need to be done right. So what better way to leave a lasting impact on these people's minds than scarring them for life? Trust me, the shit they saw me do that day, it doesn't just go away after one night's sleep... It lingers on and it makes them talk, then the details get spread around, and more and more people start pissing their pants just thinking about me."
Pausing for only a second or two, he brandished his baseball bat around, as if admiring it.
"Now, as much as that thought gets my dick hard, I can't say I'm too pleased with how things went down... You see, I'd rather avoid having to kill any more of you, if I can. You're no fucking good to me dead, I can't collect shit from you if you're all six feet under— I'm sure you can understand that, you seem like a smart enough girl. Point is, Rick forced my hand and I was left with no other choice but to bash in one of his friends' skulls in retaliation... But hey, in the end that got him to kneel down and let me put the collar around his neck, so who am I to fucking complain?"
Negan paused for the second time, but this time, it was me he was admiring, his body leaning closer to mine by a mere inch.
"Truth is, [Y/N], I don't particularly enjoy going around bashing Asian-American brains, it's not my sport of choice... but it had to be done."
"Glenn. His name was Glenn." I informed him in a firm tone, not giving him a chance to continue talking.
"What the fuck does it matter now what his name was? He's long dead, that's all that matters."
Overwhelmed by my emotions, I was unable to come up with anything to say to him in return as I simply stood before him, in silence; his piercing gaze was still as focused on mine as ever, his expression cold, until a glimpse of sincerity unexpectedly appeared on his face.
"... You know what? I say we stop talking about this Glenn, I can clearly tell you didn't take kindly to my words just now and that you cared a whole fucking lot for that poor fucker... So let's change the topic a bit before you actually snap and jump at my throat."
With these words, the coldness in his traits soon diminished, replaced with a faint playfulness. Ever so slowly, he rested his right hand on his thigh for support and leaned forward, bringing his face close to mine, so close I could feel his warm breath on my skin.
"Do you want to know how I know you weren't there that day?" He asked in a deep voice, even deeper than usual.
Tilting his head just a little, he squinted and pointed right at the center of my face with his index finger.
"It's your eyes." He whispered. "That look you have in your eyes whenever you stare at me... That fucking look... It's not a look I'd be likely to forget, and something tells me I would've seen it that day."
I gulped for the second time, feeling my breath grow shallower and shallower as the seconds passed, as his eyes intensely scanned mine.
"It's like a goddamn firework of emotions in those eyes... I can see anger and of course fear, but not as much as I'd have expected... But there's more, there's so much fucking more... There's hopelessness, confusion, and even a trace of pity, which, I'll have you know, I really don't fucking appreciate. But you know what really catches my attention? It's that spark, that glimpse of... excitement? Thrill? Whatever you want to call it, it's there."
For a few more seconds, Negan lost himself in my gaze, before he finally leaned back and held his head straight, allowing me to start breathing normally again in the comfort of my personal space, despite how close his body still was to mine.
"Out on the road, that day, there sure as hell wasn't a single look like yours on your little friends' faces as I lined them up. They all looked pathetic as shit... It was depressing, frankly. Well, except for Rick, but we both know he's not like the rest."
As he stared down at me, his grin was quick to come back, only this time it covered a single side of his face.
"... I think I'd have liked seeing that look." He said with what sounded like honesty. "Would have made the whole goddamn experience all the more memorable."
Looking away from me for just a few seconds, he turned his attention to his baseball bat as he carefully placed it over his shoulder.
"One thing's for damn sure, though." He said upon turning back to me. "I wouldn't have picked you, [Y/N]."
"I thought you had made your choice randomly?" I asked him, half confused, half suspicious.
"Oh, I did. I couldn't really play favorites, I try not to, ruins the fun too much. But for you... I think I would've made an exception."
My eyes opened slightly wider, the curious and confused voice in my head shouting at me to ask him why, but although my mouth briefly opened, I was unable to articulate even that single word.
"... Killing you would have been a real fucking waste, if you ask me." He added in a surprisingly sultry tone, his smile more prominent than ever.
"What's going on here?!"
Surprised by the sudden voice that had risen behind us, we both turned our heads to the direction of the sound, only to see Rick approaching us at a fast pace, a clear expression of anger on his face.
"Rick—"
"Well, looks like Daddy Rick is back." Negan said as he turned his body and sent a grin his way, although he made sure to maintain his close proximity to me.
"He's not my dad." I corrected him, feeling slightly awkward. "Not... biologically, I mean..."
With Rick only a few feet away from us now, Negan faced me again and slightly lowered his head: I caught myself holding my breath as he reached for my chin with his right hand, trapping it between his thumb and index finger, the leather of his glove feeling cold on my skin.
"I could've easily guessed that. You're way too fucking pretty to be sharing the same genes as him." He said with brutal honesty in a guttural voice, his hand forcing my head to tilt upwards at him.
"I'd appreciate it if you could refrain from touching her." Rick ordered him in a snappy tone, his anger having not toned down in the slightest.
I was still processing his unexpected compliment which had caught me completely off guard when I realized he had not stopped looking down into my eyes, his fingers having not yet let go of my chin; for a few more seconds, neither of us moved, until he finally complied to Rick's request and retracted his hand. And as he did so, he observed my expression and a shimmer of malicious intent appeared in his eyes, his smile remaining present the whole time.
"I'll ask again. What is going on here?" Rick repeated, seemingly exasperated and suspicious while turning to Negan. "What do you want with [Y/N]?"
"Look at you, all worried and protective. How fucking adorable." He teased him in response.
"Rick, everything's alright." I reassured him as I took a step towards him and shook my head, my palms open. "Negan only came up to me because he wanted to talk to me... Believe it or not. We really were just talking, I'm fine, don't worry."
Still skeptical even despite my attempt at dispelling his fears, he squinted his eyes and stared daggers at Negan, as if trying to make him confess.
"I really don't think that look is fucking necessary, no sirree." He said with a light shrug, putting up an innocent front. "You heard the girl, we were just talking. Like two fucking civilized individuals."
"If that's the case, then I say this is the end of your conversation." Rick fired back, not letting down his guard. "If you're done here, you should leave."
With a determined step, he approached him and stood tall in front of him, his gaze piercing.
"... I think your men are waiting for you." He added coldly.
For a few seconds, Negan stared back at him in silence, visibly pondering over his thoughts: his eyes then traveled to me, lingering, and by the time they were back on Rick's, his lips had shifted to a faint smile.
"... Let them wait longer." He finally said. "As a matter of fact, I am not fucking done here."
Wariness could be read on Rick's face as he listened to him, as Negan opened one of his arms.
"I've been doing some good fucking thinking over here, while you were busy telling me to fuck off your lawn." He said with his head slightly tilted to the side. "I'd like to make a deal with you."
"We already have a deal in place." Rick began to protest. "You're already taking half of our resources away for yourself... Is that not enough?"
"If you had the decency to let me fucking finish, you'd know that's what I want to talk to you about, asshole." He quickly responded, his brow furrowed in irritation.
I stood beside the two men in silence as I watched their exchange go down, not quite daring to interrupt either of them.
"As you said so just now, I pay this little town a visit every week or so to claim what's mine— And yes, before you start fucking protesting again, those offerings are rightfully ours, it's the rules of the game." Negan continued. "But we've got one hell of a problem on our hands— Well, you've got one hell of a problem on your hands. And I'm offering you a way to help. I'll be expecting a mother fucking 'thank you' after all of this is over."
His left arm still open, his other still holding his baseball bat over his shoulder, he leaned forward by just an inch.
"You're running out of damn near everything." He said while pointing to the houses around us with his thumb. "I would know, I take half of it. And don't even get me fucking started on your food and ammo."
Hating having to admit he was right, Rick's eyebrows furrowed in frustration, which conveyed his inner feelings clearly despite his silence.
"I can see times are tough for your people lately, so I'm willing to make you an offer they'll all fucking appreciate. How generous of me."
"Just get to it already." Rick ordered him, not fully convinced.
"Fine, you impatient prick." He said in a snarky tone. "This time around— And this time only, I won't be taking a single fucking thing from your stocks."
Both Rick and I raised our eyebrows in surprise, but we knew there had to be more to it: Negan turned to me, smiling threateningly.
"... In exchange for her." He finished as he pointed right at me with his index finger.
"Woah!" I exclaimed. "Wait a minute—"
"What?!" Rick interrupted me, just as shocked. "You're saying you want [Y/N] to be your offering?! That's your deal?!"
But above and beyond the confusion, what could be truly perceived in his voice was anger.
"You're expecting us to just hand her over to you?! What makes you think we'd be ok with that?!" He carried on, his body language now frantic. "And what good would that even do you? Why would that benefit you over taking half of our supplies?"
"Because I want insurance." Negan answered, his expression grave. "The last fucking time I saw you, you were out on the road, on your way to meet me. And how mother fucking convenient it was for us to run into each other like that..."
The look in Rick's eyes subtly changed, and we both understood very clearly what he was trying to imply.
"... But I know that was more than a simple fucking coincidence." He added as he leaned closer to Rick. "No, you knew exactly where the fuck you were going... I'm not quite sure how, but you did."
I remained completely silent, not wanting to give anything away, though I could not help but nibble at my lower lip in discontentment: that day, we had indeed taken to the road with the intent of getting Carl back from him, which we had only been able to do with the directions given by Jesus, the only one of us who knew exactly where his base of operations was. And now, he had figured it out and we could no longer keep it hidden from him.
"But here's the thing... My Saviors and I don't appreciate unwelcome guests in our little Sanctuary."
Without diverting his eyes from Rick, he outstretched his arm in my direction once again and opened his hand.
"So, you scheming piece of shit, this is my offer... The only thing I take back with me today is the little lady right here, and you can count on me to treat her fucking right... Make her feel right at home. Now, none of your goddamn people comes knocking at my front door, none of my men gets attacked by yours... I don't lay a fucking finger on her. And ten days from now, when I come to visit you again, I'll return her to you, in perfect condition. Free fucking shipping. But if you try anything— And I mean any-fucking-thing while she's with me... Well, let's just say I won't be keeping any of my promises."
I was left speechless, unable to figure out how to even react: Negan wanted to use me as a token of peace to ensure Rick would not launch an attack on him any time soon, even if it was at the cost of not getting his weekly rations from us. And although he was no longer as agitated, I could tell Rick was just as opposed to the idea as before.
"[Y/N] is not an object for you to just take." He told him, the revolt in his voice audible. "Besides, this is all unnecessary... You don't have to do any of this."
"Bullshit I don't." Negan promptly responded as he tapped on Rick's chest with his index finger, visibly applying more pressure that time than he had done with me earlier. "I need to do this, because I can tell you still don't fucking trust me— You still don't fucking think I can be reasonable... Fucking shit, I returned your little boy to you safe and sound after he'd snuck into my goddamn property, didn't I?"
"And it's precisely because you already took Carl before that I don't want to put [Y/N] through it now!"
"In case you forgot, I didn't take your asshole son." He corrected him. "He willingly invited himself inside my truck... He knew exactly what he was getting himself into. And not only did he try to fucking kill me, but he also shot down over five of my men. You should be grateful I didn't make him pay accordingly— And so should he. Yet I didn't hear a single fucking 'thank you' then, and I'm still not hearing one now."
"Uh... If neither of you minds, I'd like to speak for myself." I hesitantly jumped into the conversation, my tone expressing a tinge of frustration.
Both men turned to me, their gazes deep and their expressions solemn, which only further lowered my confidence; I gulped and straightened my back, trying as best as I could to stand tall and proud beside them.
"This is me we're talking about here... I think I'm allowed to have a say in this."
As uncertain as Rick seemed to be about the entire situation, I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was understanding of my wish to express my personal point of view. Negan, on the other hand, stared at me with the same intensity as before, only this time his usual grin was nowhere to be seen.
"Rick, I appreciate you standing up for me, I really do... Thank you." I told him as I smiled at him. "Frankly, you have every right to be against the idea of entrusting me into Negan's hands... Believe me, I'm not too enthusiastic about it myself. So I completely understand your reluctance."
With those words, I looked down for a second, collecting my thoughts and putting them in order, before I raised my head at Negan.
"... But I think I want to go." I assuredly declared.
"[Y/N], I can't—"
"No, let me finish." I interrupted him with a hand gesture. "... Please."
I was not surprised in the slightest by Rick's reaction, I had expected as much from him: fearful and distrustful, he only wanted to keep me safe and make sure he would not let anything bad happen to me. But that was my chance to show him I could hold my own and pull my weight just fine, for the good of the community.
"I know you see this as sending me on a suicide mission... But I see it differently." I explained as I turned back to him. "Negan is right in saying our resources have become scarce... You know this better than any of us, really. We've got a lot of people to feed here, we've burned through a considerable amount of our ammo already, and the shelves in the infirmary are barely half full. If me leaving for ten days means our supplies don't have to leave Alexandria, even if it's only for ten days... That'll still be something. A head start of some sort."
Locking eyes with him, it was obvious to me that he was finding it difficult to swallow these truths, no matter how much faith he was ready to have in me.
"Besides, I know how you feel about it, but even you have to admit that nothing happened to Carl when he was away. Negan was even willing to make the trip all the way here just to drop him off... Which I know is only par for the course, but he could have very well just put him through much worse, had he wanted to."
"Some fucking recognition at last." Negan peevishly spoke up while rolling his eyes.
"Not only that, but it was different for Carl." I continued, ignoring his snarky comment. "He tried to infiltrate the place armed with a machine gun, I'd be walking in through the front door as a 'guest'... The circumstances are vastly different. More than that, he's a child and I'm an adult, I can handle myself."
Finally, Rick's expression progressively began to soften and I knew I had managed to start making him change his mind; but a trace of hesitation remained on his face, and it persisted.
"... Why would it have to be you out of everyone here?" He asked doubtfully as he slowly shook his head. "And I am not saying I would rather send someone else in your place— Ideally, I would not want anyone to go..."
"Why do you think?" Negan answered him, his trademark smile back on his lips. "Only her can guarantee proper fucking insurance."
His cold gaze moved over to me for a moment, too short for me to stare back at him, but long enough to make me feel uneasy at my core.
"It's crystal fucking clear that after your son and your special lady, she's the one person you'd do anything to keep safe."
Leaning close to Rick, his smile grew even further.
"... Something tells me your overprotective ass wouldn't risk doing anything too fucking stupid if you knew it would put her in danger... Or am I wrong?"
The silence that followed only confirmed his hypothesis, which he seemed to find great satisfaction in.
"And what better mother fucking way to prove you I can be goddamn reasonable than by having her come with me?" He asked with his arms open. "I seriously doubt you can question my trust again after I bring her back here, unharmed, untouched."
His body then pivoted, now oriented between the two of us, his arms still outstretched and the glimmer in his eyes more taunting than ever.
"After all, I've already given your first prick of a kid the tour of my Sanctuary before, so why not give it to your second one as well?" He joked, clearly amused by the situation.
"I'm not a kid." I fired back without masking my irritation.
The words had barely left my mouth when I felt Negan's hand on my face, both of my cheeks pinched between his fingers as he forced my chin up.
"Are you a virgin?" He asked me outright, his deep voice deprived of any shame.
Utterly flustered by such an unexpected, intrusive question, I raised my eyebrows high and opened my mouth slightly, though no words came out.
"That's none of your damn business!" Rick exclaimed, visibly offended on my behalf.
"Kindly shut the fuck up." Negan angrily ordered him as he turned his head to him. "This conversation is between her and I."
Bringing all of his attention back to me, his head above mine, he stared right down into my eyes.
"So... You still have your virginity?" He asked again with the same genuine curiosity.
His grin had never looked more off-putting than at that moment: maintaining eye contact with him was becoming harder and harder. But despite my reluctance to share such private details about myself with him, I felt compelled to give him an honest answer, whether or not it was the one he would want to hear.
"... No." I bashfully confessed.
My cheeks turned pink, the temperature of my face feeling higher than usual, even with the cold leather of his glove on my skin.
"... I'm 23, not 16." I added in a frustrated tone.
He silently scanned my expression, as if it would help him learn more, until he finally let go of me.
"I suppose you're less of a fucking kid than I thought you were." He let out teasingly.
Indignant and upset, I glared at him with nothing to say in return, simply watching him bring his baseball bat to rest on his shoulder, after which I crossed my arms on my chest.
"... Either way, I am going." I told the two men in front of me, reiterating my choice. "I've already stated my arguments, and I think I'm enough of an adult to make this kind of decision... If anyone should have the right to say whether or not I'm going, it's me."
And with that, the debate was closed. Rick once more looked at me with those eyes, understanding yet desolate; not angry, not sad, but purely bereft.
"Okay then. If everything's settled, let's not waste any more fucking time here." Announced Negan with a sign of the hand. "You got ten minutes to pack whatever shit you have to take with you while I tell my men to unload the truck."
Letting his eyes glide over me one last time, he showed me his smile before turning around and stepping off our front yard, walking away back to the gates. So, without a second to lose, I followed his command and made my way inside the house; Rick hot on my trail.
"[Y/N]—" He began calling out.
But I ignored him as I opened the front door and entered the living room, only to find Carl sitting on one of the sofas, a book in his hands.
"Is everything alright?" He asked while looking up at us both. "... Is Negan causing trouble here today?"
"Everything's fine, Carl. Don't worry." I reassured him with a smile.
Walking past where he was, I stopped right by the couch and could feel my smile turn bittersweet as I looked down at him.
"... I'm just going to have to leave Alexandria for a few days."
"Why? What's going on?"
"Rick will have to explain everything to you, I don't really have the time to get into details right now... Sorry." I answered, my smile now completely gone.
Not wishing to elaborate any further or waste any more time, I kept walking and went up the stairs, heading for my bedroom.
"[Y/N], wait." Rick called again, still following behind me.
Once inside my room, I crouched to pick up my backpack from the floor then put it down on my bed.
"I'm listening." I finally told him while opening my bag.
"I appreciate you wanting to do your part for the community, I truly do and I want you to know it. But this isn't just a bad idea, [Y/N], it's also a very dangerous one."
The first item I packed was my toothbrush, sitting in a glass on my nightstand; even without having toothpaste, I found it important to keep it with me.
"What, you think I don't know that? I'm the one making this willing decision to go, and trust me when I say I hate having to make it."
Second was my comb, sitting right beside the glass; it was no brush, but enough to help me keep my hair in check.
"Then why are you so determined on going? I know you're smart enough to know the risks, and I know it's hurting you having to do this... So how can you be so sure of yourself?"
Third came my notebook and my pen, tucked away in a corner of the room; having had them since the very beginning of the outbreak, they were always handy to have around.
"I'm not, I'm only being realistic. You know well he wouldn't have taken 'no' for an answer... Even if he disguised his supposed deal as something we could have declined, it's clear he would've forced my hand had I not made up my mind on my own."
Then followed a couple of books, piled against one of the walls; some had been with me since the beginning, others I had borrowed from friends in Alexandria.
"No, there's more than that... I'm convinced we could have reasoned with him, maybe asked him for another deal that wouldn't have involved you going. But instead, you agreed almost immediately..."
Finally, I took all of the clothes I had, scattered about on my bed; it was no more than a few spare shirts and pants, but it could not hurt to pack it all.
"... It's like you want to go." He added, a trace of judgment in his voice.
"Well, a part of me does, yes." I told him as I turned around, finally looking him in the eyes for the first time since the beginning of our conversation. "Rick, can't you see? This is perfect, perfect for us, perfect for you..."
I paused for only a second, the time for me to close the door to my room.
"... Perfect for your plan of attack." I finished in a quieter voice, not wanting Carl to hear us from downstairs.
The surprise on Rick's face was unconcealed.
"How do you know about that?" He asked me with a hint of concern. "I haven't yet told you anything about it..."
"I know... I've overheard you talking about it with Andrea lately." I replied while sitting down on my bed.
A moment of silence settled between the two of us, brief but still heavy.
"... I'm sorry if you've felt like I've been lying to you and keeping things hidden from you." He apologized, his sentiment genuine. "It's just a very risky plan, and I'd rather handle it on my own for now."
"I know. You don't have to apologize to me, I'm not mad at you for it... Really, I get it."
"I hope everyone else will react the same way when I tell them." He scoffed. "... How much do you know, exactly?"
"Pretty much everything, I believe." I answered while shrugging. "I know you're secretly preparing to launch an attack on The Saviors, I know you're lying to everyone in Alexandria by making them believe Negan's got you defenseless and submitted to him, I know you've been hard at work trying to recruit members of other communities to fight alongside you... And I know that Dwight guy has come in contact with you just a day ago or so to let you know he's ready to turn his back on Negan."
With a sigh, he mirrored my movement and sat down as well.
"That's about all of it, yeah."
"I know you're scared about me leaving with Negan for ten whole days... but, if anything, this is a golden opportunity." I explained. "I can gather information while I'm there, a lot more than what Carl could tell us after he came back... Anything that could help you. Hell, now that we know that Dwight is on our side, I could even try approaching him and exchanging information with him while I'm there—"
"Absolutely not." Rick cut me off dismissively. "We don't actually know for certain whether Dwight really is on our side or not... I still don't fully trust him, I want to make sure he's not hiding any tricks up his sleeve... I don't want to take any risks when it comes to Negan."
"Alright... That's fair." I nodded. "But at the very least, we should take advantage of the fact that I'll be this close to him and discuss what I could try doing... I mean, who knows, maybe I'll get a window of opportunity to strike—"
"Are you out of your mind?!" He exclaimed as he stood up from the bed. "Whatever happened to 'I could never kill Negan'?"
Unable to give him a valid answer, I simply remained silent and looked down at my hands on my lap.
"We've been over this already, you simply couldn't do it... And even less so while you're staying there." He continued. "Let's say— For the sake of argument, you do get a chance to kill him— Then what? You'd be trapped inside a huge factory, surrounded by the dozens and dozens of men under his command... You wouldn't make it out alive. Even if it means successfully getting rid of him, doing it under such circumstances isn't worth it if it costs you your life."
I could discern the worry in his tone, walking hand-in-hand with desperation.
"No, I do not want you snooping around while you're there." He firmly stated. "I know I've told you before, and I know you've told me you're well aware of it, but you don't seem to realize the gravity of it— This is dangerous, [Y/N]. You're not going on a scouting mission, you're letting yourself become Negan's hostage. While you're away, with him, you'll have to do whatever he asks of you... You won't have a choice but to do things his way, live by his rules. And you, having to stay there for so long, is already risky enough as it is... I don't need you putting your life on the line trying anything too reckless and uncertain."
Although his words were assertive, the footsteps that followed after them were light, slow, and gentle: standing in front of me, Rick reached for my shoulder with his left hand and held it tight.
"... This is why I'm scared for you, [Y/N]." He said affectionately. "Even if it was me going, I'd fear for myself."
I stared up into his eyes, so caring, before I covered his hand with mine and smiled faintly.
"... I understand. I'll be careful, I promise."
With those few words of comfort, he removed his hand, allowing me to stand up as well; though there was no way for me to accurately keep track of time, I could tell my ten minutes of remaining freedom in Alexandria were almost over, and it was time for me to go see Negan. But before leaving my room, I crouched and picked up my crowbar lying by the leg of my bed, then crammed it into my backpack.
"I'm not you, but I can still hold my own." I confidently told him as I zipped my bag.
Throwing it over one of my shoulders, I walked out of my bedroom, Rick still following behind me; making my way back downstairs, I passed Carl in the living room once more.
"Alright, it's time for me to go." I told him. "I'll see you in a few days, Carl... Take good care of Rick while I'm gone, okay? Don't let him do anything stupid and make sure to protect him."
Getting a chuckle out of him and a scoff out of Rick with that playful remark, the two of us exited the house and headed for the front gates. There awaited Negan, standing beside his truck, one hand on his hip and the other still clinging onto that baseball bat of his.
"You sure took your sweet fucking time..." He said sneeringly as I approached him.
"You're the one who gave me ten minutes."
"Just because I did doesn't mean you had to use all fucking ten of them."
His eyes looked past my face and at Rick, standing behind me, which brought his usual, oddly-friendly-looking smile back.
"And would you look at that? Daddy even came to see you off." He teased us.
I sighed and rolled my eyes at him, not bothering to engage and instead walking up to the passenger door of the van.
"Ladies first." He said while opening it for me, his arm outstretched.
I leaned forward and took a peek inside, only to notice that there were not even two full seats beside the driver, already sitting behind the wheel.
"... I'm riding here?" I asked as I turned back to him, unsure. "There's hardly enough space for three people... I'd have to squeeze in the middle."
"If you want to be so fucking picky, you can always ride inside the truck." Offered Negan while pointing to the storage section of the vehicle. "But I should warn you..."
Letting the beginning of his sentence hang still in the air, he got closer to me and stared down into my eyes.
"... All my men are in there, and they are more than a little fucking pissed that they came all this way just to leave empty-handed." He quietly spoke, trying to intimidate me. "... I don't think they'd be too happy to see your goddamn face right now."
Not quite daring to test whether his threat was empty or not, I gave up and climbed inside the front of the truck: moving over to the middle, on what was barely large enough to be considered a seat, I sat next to the driver, not uttering another word.
"Pleasure doing business with you." I heard Negan say to Rick before he joined me in the front and closed the door.
Adjusting himself comfortably by the window, I felt my body tense up the second he sat down: with what little space we had, and with how physically imposing he was, I found myself cramped tightly next to him, my body almost fully against his. I gulped as awkwardness began to invade me, leaving me silent.
The only thing that was able to pull me out of that state was the sight of Rick, opening the gates wide before he turned to us and stared at me from below. And as the engine roared and the van began to move, I watched Alexandria slowly disappear into the distance through the rearview mirror, wondering when I would truly see it again.
Summary: It is no secret to everyone in the Police Department that [Y/N] is the precinct's rising star: while not overly popular, it is undeniable everyone views her as a bright and promising young detective. From her colleagues to her superiors, they all agree her work is more than satisfying. And among those superiors of hers, the District Chief of Police in particular has begun taking a very special interest in her. So when Damon Gant calls her up to his office, she expects a regular one-on-one meeting: until she realizes his sole intention is to pry open her heart and extract from it her deepest, darkest fantasy...
Chronology: Early AA1.
Warning: NSFW/Smut.
~~~~~~~~~~
In the quiet Chief's Office, Gant sat at his desk, legs crossed, flipping through a multitude of documents and reports. Hearing a series of soft, somewhat apprehensive-sounding knocks on his door, he looked up with a smile.
"Come on in!" He exclaimed cheerfully.
Swallowing what remained of the knot in her throat, [Y/N] slowly opened it, before taking a step inside.
"You wanted to see me, sir?" She asked, not fully assured as her eyes peeked over the door to find him.
As she tentatively stepped into the room, Gant's smile widened into a grin.
"Ah, [Y/N]!" He said happily. "You're right on time! Punctual as ever!"
Gathering all sheets of paper on his desk into one pile he set aside, he leaned back on his chair slightly as he folded his hands in his lap.
"Oh, and close the door behind you, before you make your way over here." He ordered her in his jovial, usual tone.
"Yes, sir." She immediately responded with a quick bow of the head.
As per his request, she carefully closed the office door behind her, before she turned back around and paced to his desk.
As she padded her way over to where he was seated, he took a moment to appreciate her small, yet curvy frame: between how she moved, how she dressed, and how she carried herself, she reminded him of a small woodland animal, or something similarly skittish.
Still bearing his amused smile, he tilted his head slightly and gave her an appraising glance upon watching her stop in front of his desk, in front of him.
"Now, then." He started while idly fixing the clasp of his tie. "Knowing you, you're probably wondering why I wanted you in here today... Right?"
Straightening her back fully and placing both of her hands over each other on the front of her skirt, [Y/N] looked her boss in the eyes.
"Yes, sir." She repeated, nodding briefly once more.
He chuckled, the sound warm yet intimidating to her ears.
"[Y/N], my dear, no need to be so tense around me... View me as a friend, rather than as your superior, and relax." He told her in an attempt to ease her mind. "... Swim much lately?"
"As a matter of fact, I have." She answered, her gaze drifting away briefly before she focused back on his face.
"Wonderful! That's great to hear!" He clapped his hands in satisfaction, his tone patronizing. "I've been doing my best trying to encourage more of the department to have communal swimming sessions for a while now, but they always turn me down... At least someone around here understands me."
Taking the time to process his indirect compliment, she looked to the side once again.
"... Swimming is a highly beneficial activity." She hesitantly stated. "It allows you to put your entire body at work, to build strength and endurance, to burn calories efficiently, and to improve sleep... I personally find it quite advantageous when practiced occasionally."
"Couldn't have said it better myself!" He enthused, seemingly proud of her as he clapped his hands once more. "... You and I should have a good ol' session together, one of these days."
A chill ran through her whole body at his suggestion.
"... That'd be my pleasure, sir." She responded with a faintly noticeable smile.
"Splendid, splendid!" He exclaimed joyfully, rubbing his hands together. "In the meantime, you should keep at it. Swimming is a good way to battle stress, I'm sure it could help you in that regard."
Marking a short pause, he opened his eyes and leaned forward in his chair, his joined hands resting on his desk and his gaze resting on her.
"Now, as for why I called you in here..."
Staring straight at her, his smile persisted and a knowing look appeared in his eyes, as if he could peer into her thoughts.
"... I'd like to ask you a bit of a personal question, if you don't mind."
"I don't mind, sir." She told him, her posture as straight as ever, her apprehension barely audible in her voice. "You can ask away."
"Excellent." He remarked in response, seemingly satisfied. "A straightforward, upfront answer. Something we could use more of in this precinct."
Leaning back in his chair, he took a moment to formulate his thoughts before speaking.
"Now, refresh my memory a bit... How long have you been working for the force, again?"
"5 years, sir." She answered, nodding briefly. "But only 2 of those years have been spent in this precinct, since I was once working in another jurisdiction before being assigned here."
"Ah, I appreciate the clarification." He acknowledged, taking in the information with a nod of his own. "... So, you started in that other jurisdiction and were then transferred here, yes?"
"That... is correct, yes." She replied, somewhat frustrated.
How can he not remember? She thought.
Yet, even stranger, why was it that him not remembering her resume affected her so much?
Pushing her thought aside, however, she put herself in his shoes and rationalized the situation: a man like him, in such a position of power, was surely incapable of keeping track of each and every detail of each and every one of his subordinates' lives, knowing how many of them he had employed. Besides, five years was already a while back for the two of them, she could not blame him for having forgotten her history.
"... Now, I don't know if you recall your first week or so of your arrival here." He started, idly tugging at his hair as he mused. "... But do you remember talking to me on your very first day?"
[Y/N] was caught off guard by his seemingly trivial question, but only a little; however, she needed a moment to organize her thoughts, to pick the correct way to answer him.
"... I do indeed recall my first day here, sir... However, I did not get to talk to you, then." She told him, her eyes drifting away momentarily. "At the time, you hadn't yet been promoted Chief of Police... I believe you were Deputy Chief. You and most of the precinct were very busy working on a particular case... SL-9 was its name, I believe."
Once more, she paused: only this time, her expression looked more sorrowful than pensive.
"... Given I was only a new recruit to this jurisdiction, the investigation never reached me and I was kept out of it. About a week after my arrival, the case was closed, and you became Chief as you are now... Only then did I get to make your acquaintance."
As he listened to her talk, he kept his eyes on her face, his expression unreadable; then, there was a short moment of silence between the two of them after she had spoken her last word.
"... Very impressive memory." He commented nonchalantly, bringing up a hand to his bearded chin. "You remember the name of the case, even though you weren't assigned to it, my position at the time, even though I hadn't been introduced to you yet, and my following promotion, even though you had only been there for a week... You even remember our first meeting."
She could not prevent the thin blush on her cheeks and the shy, bashful look in her eyes.
"I... have been praised countless times for my memory, ever since I joined the force... However, these are only details of events that mean a lot to me, as they symbolize the beginning of my career here... It's only natural for me to remember such things, they're not to be forgotten." She said in response, as if to justify herself.
Yet, his compliment had still managed to affect her a little.
"... Nevertheless, thank you kindly, sir." She added, gently bowing to him.
At her gesture, Gant sighed to himself.
"My, my... Here you go again. Always so uptight, formal, and polite with me." He grumbled, shaking his head with feigned disappointment. "I've told you many times before, [Y/N]. There's no need for you to be so proper around me, especially not with all the bowing and whatnot."
His words cut her breath short.
"Ah—"
With a slightly panicked gasp, she immediately straightened her back and stood upright; as if the sheer tone of his voice had sent a shockwave through her.
"Sorry, sir..." She muttered apologetically and looked straight ahead.
Upon hearing the anxiety in her voice, his face softened and he gave her an understanding look, accompanied by a brief chuckle.
"Here you go again..." He repeated himself, his voice slightly gentler this time. "Don't apologize. I didn't mean to startle you. I'm just saying you don't need to be so formal and stiff with me, especially not in private... We're not on duty at the moment, for Christ's sake. So relax a bit, will you? Frankly, it breaks my heart seeing you be so scared of me."
"I'm not scared of you, sir." She corrected him, her voice gentle, earnest, wanting him to believe her.
Her soft and delicate-looking lips remained slightly parted for a moment, as though she had more she wanted to say, perhaps a way to justify herself once more, but she remained quiet.
As her words came to his ears, he was tempted to laugh but resisted the urge; still, his smirk was ever as present.
"Really, now? If that's so... how are you feeling right now, if not scared?" He questioned, his eyebrow cocked in silent amusement.
She took a deep breath; that question was one she was nervous about answering, but she knew he expected her to be honest with him.
She opened her lips again, just a little, yet all that came out was hot air.
She closed her eyes, trying to calm her unsteady heartbeat, before she slowly, shyly looked into his eyes.
"In—... Intimidated." She murmured in response.
His smirk widened ever so slightly at her reply, his attention focused wholly on her.
"And why, pray tell, would a little thing like yourself feel intimidated by a man such as me?" He enquired playfully.
"... I believe you've just answered your own question, sir." She told him after some pondering. "You're my superior... As such, I aim to please you... I want to meet your expectations. Your status is much higher than mine, and you have much more experience than me... I have a lot of respect for you, and with it comes a desire to be the best I can be, for the sake of the department... for your sake."
As she explained herself, he found himself both amused and impressed: the fact that she wanted to make herself as perfect as she could be, and for his sake nonetheless did not go unnoticed by him.
"... That's quite the answer you've given me." He remarked while running a hand over his bearded chin. "... Very detailed, too. I was half-expecting you to say something along the lines of 'Because you're twice my size'."
"Well—"
A pause; short, but heavy.
"... It'd be a lie for me to say there isn't a part of... truth to this." She admitted.
Her voice was shy, her cheeks were pink, and her mind was fuzzier than ever: clearly, she was extremely embarrassed.
"... If I may, sir... Your... physique certainly does play a part, as well... Your grand stature is quite... imposing. Additionally, it's... undeniable you have a strong presence... I will admit this all contributes to the way I... behave around you."
Amusement: that was the only way he could describe the feeling brewing inside him. Oh, how cute she looked when she spoke like that, so shy, so timid, so innocent.
"... You're sweet, you know that?" He told her with a smirk. "I never would've taken you for such a smooth talker... That's quite the flattery you've given me."
Seeing her get so flustered, so shy, such a blushing mess, all for his sake, all because of him: it was almost endearing to him, in a way. But, mostly, it was arousing. He relished the power he had over her at that moment.
A powerful, manipulative, charming, and handsome man like himself could make someone as vulnerable and delicate as [Y/N] all weak in the knees with just his speech and his presence alone. That sheer thought and the feeling it gave him was a thrill unlike any other.
Slowly, he rose to his feet, still smiling, and started to make his way around his desk, hands in his pockets, towards the trembling woman in front of him.
"... You certainly know how to make a man feel good, don't you, [Y/N]?" He said in a low tone, his smirk now turning into a sly grin. "... Your partner must be quite the satisfied man, with you by his side."
At that, the young woman's blush deepened into a light red.
"... Actually... I currently have no partner... sir." She informed him, visibly ashamed, her tone low, her eyes looking away.
The news made another wave of excitement run through Gant's body; a look that could have only been described as pure satisfaction washed over his face as her timid, nervous confession came to his ears.
"No partner?" He repeated with exaggerated surprise. "You're telling me a beautiful, kind, and respectful woman like yourself is single?"
He took a few more steps towards her, his pace slow and methodical.
"How intriguing..." He mused with a smirk, studying every little nuance of her expression. "I'd have bet a woman like yourself would have men begging to take you out... But I assume you've actually yet to find a man to your liking, who fits your standards... Am I correct?"
Yes, he was correct; of course, he was correct. But [Y/N] simply could not allow herself to answer him: she could not convince herself to speak up and validate his theory.
So, instead, she remained utterly silent, keeping her thoughts to herself, and continued looking away.
Another wave of enjoyment went through his body at her silence, at the sight of her completely cornered by him, by his words.
"... In that case, then... I do wonder what sort of man a woman like yourself would find most attractive." He spoke, the smirk never leaving his face. "For example, do you find yourself attracted to men who are, say... much older than you?"
He was now standing right next to her, looking down at her from his towering height as he rested his right hand on the surface of his desk.
"... Or, perhaps, men with high statuses, who possess a lot of power?" He added, his deep voice barely above a whisper as he stared at her intently.
His eyes slowly trailed down from her eyes to her lips, then came back up again. He took a moment to study her face; her rosy cheeks, her timid, almost fearful expression, her breathlessness. The poor thing's heart was palpitating so fast, he could almost hear it hammering in her chest.
He found her state so endearing and entertaining. It was almost adorable seeing her act so tense and on edge like that.
"... Could even be both, I suppose." He continued in that same tone, smooth and quiet, yet also teasing. "An older man with the right standing in the community, preferably, someone with quite a lot of control over the people beneath him, someone with a lot of authority, with a lot of power..."
He was so close to her now, he could smell the light, flowery scent of her hair, a fragrance so sweet and refreshing it made him want to bury his face in it. The urge to touch her, to take hold of her and feel her frail, delicate body beneath his fingers, to possess her entirely, was very strong at that moment.
"I assume you find that sort of man quite appealing." He said with a voice lower than her breath. "A commanding man, with a presence that's impossible to ignore, a man you wouldn't easily be able to escape from, even if you tried."
He leaned down towards her, slightly, just slightly, just enough for his voice to come whispering straight into her ear.
"... Someone like me, perhaps?"
[Y/N]'s eyes opened wide, a mute gasp getting stuck in her throat; she felt her chest tighten, as if she was being deprived of oxygen.
She wanted to answer him. To tell him that he was right. That he was exactly right. But nothing came out of her, her nervousness, embarrassment, and timidity all too strong for her to even open her mouth, as if her lips were sewn.
Her body was frozen, stiffer than ever, and all she could do was stand there, overwhelmed by his presence, by his body beside her, by his voice in her ear.
Gant chuckled, his smile turning into a knowing smirk as he witnessed her reaction. Her tense body, her silent gasp, her inability to answer him; everything about her in that moment was so precious to his eyes, because it all symbolized how much she was utterly dominated by his mere presence.
"... Well, it's alright." He whispered into her ear as he assessed her silence. "You don't have to answer me. I can tell I'm right from just looking at you."
He slowly brought up his left hand to her face and ran his gloved fingertips down the side of her cheek before gently hooking them under her chin, very carefully raising her head until their eyes met.
"I can see it in your eyes... You're terrified." He said with a dark smile. "And yet, you find yourself unable to move away from me... Don't you?"
His hold on her chin kept her head raised for his viewing, forcing her to look straight into the green of his eyes.
"Because while I intimidate you, I also excite you, don't I?" He continued, leaning forward to be just a few inches away from her. "You feel the need to be perfect for me, you need me to acknowledge you, to pay heed to your hard work, to notice and praise your efforts... Because you find my praise more rewarding than anything else."
His hand moved from her chin to her cheek, gently caressing her skin with his thumb in a circular motion as he continued to stare into her wide eyes.
"You feel excited every time you come into this office, knowing I'll be here. You relish the idea of speaking to me, of pleasing me, of me giving you my attention."
Gant simply loved how she responded to him, how she could do nothing but just stand there, in his grasp: the amount of control he had over her in that moment was so sweet, so thrilling.
He began to gently run his thumb across her bottom lip, watching her expression and taking in every single second of it.
At the touch, [Y/N] quivered. The cold, thick leather on her lip felt good, so good, so much so that it was intoxicating. She was paralyzed, completely trapped, and all she could do was stand there.
But as she stared into his eyes beyond the pink-tinted glasses, she could feel it: desire. She let him slowly part her lips open and locked gazes with him, her eyes needy.
The look in her eyes brought yet another wave of excitement through his body. She looked so submissive, so willing to let him do anything to her, and it was a view that sent a shiver through his spine. He felt his trousers tighten at the sight of this trembling, weak woman, at the sight of her wanting him so badly.
He could not resist it any longer: the urge to feel her lips against his own and the desire to taste her were far too strong not to be allowed. He leaned in towards her, slowly, until his mouth finally made contact with hers.
His lips were firm and demanding against hers, taking full dominance over her with ease while his left hand slid down from her face to the side of her neck, cupping the nape and gripping her skin with his fingers.
Before she could even process what was happening, she was taken away: she felt Gant's lips press on hers, she felt his right hand leave his desk and reach for her hip, she felt his body forcefully moving her around, she felt her lower back come in contact with the desk behind her, she felt the muffled gasp that left her throat as it all happened.
His hand on her hip squeezed her hard, pushing her to sit on the edge of the desk and allowing him to position himself between her open legs as the hand on her neck pulled her towards him further. His lips continued moving over hers, parting her open, his tongue starting to explore her mouth hungrily.
His fingers on her hip promptly traveled upward and stopped at the front of her shirt, blindly, dominantly unbuttoning it as he pushed his body against hers and pinned her in place on the desk. Both of their chests rose and fell rhythmically in rapid succession, as he ravaged her mouth with his.
He broke the kiss after what felt like an eternity, only to quickly find a new target in the curve of her neck: he proceeded to plant hot, wet kisses and licks on her sensitive skin, while his hand continued to unfasten the buttons of her shirt.
[Y/N] barely had enough time to catch her breath after their kiss that needy sighs and gasps of pleasure left her lips at the sensation of his mouth on her neck, of his thick beard on her flesh, of his hands working to undress her.
Against her own volition, her twitching hands reached up to his arms and shoulders, her fingers shyly holding him.
"C-Chief Gant—" She let out in what was both a gasp and a sigh.
He pulled away from her neck just a little, hovering mere inches above her now exposed collarbone as his hands began to push her shirt off her shoulders.
"I don't want to hear you call me 'Chief' right now." He mumbled in a breathless, low voice.
Her eyes widened: never before would she have even fathomed the idea of calling him by his first name, of employing it to address him. But in that instant, he wanted her to.
Timidly, she clung to his body just a bit tighter.
"Y-Yes, sir— I-I mean... D-Damon..."
He let out a quiet, pleased hum as he heard her say his name. It sounded so good to him, so delicious on her quivering, breathless lips. The sheer sound of it made everything even more thrilling, more exciting, leading him to feel his manhood throb from the confines of his trousers.
"Good girl." He murmured on her bare skin as her shirt slid down her body.
He began to slowly run his hands over her exposed, supple skin; over her arms, her shoulders, her collarbone, and her breasts over the lacy fabric of her bra. His touch was firm and dominant, mapping out every curve and dip in its path.
"You've got such lovely skin..." He said, his voice now a deep, low growl as he caressed her, as he admired her perfect body. "... And it's all for me, isn't it?"
The young woman shivered at the cool, rough sensation of his gloved palms gliding over her flesh. As she let him drink in the sight of her defenseless figure, she sheepishly looked up into his emerald eyes and nodded shyly.
His mouth came back to her neck and he began planting more kisses and licks, mixed in with the occasional bite that was not quite painful, but also not gentle enough to feel pleasant. His hands glided over the warm, smooth skin of her slender back, moving upward to the clasp of her bra.
While his mouth continued its assault on her vulnerable neck, his fingers gently played with the hook, trying to undo it without looking: however, it only seemed to make matters worse, his large hands far too big and his gloves far too cumbersome.
"Damn it—" He muttered annoyingly against her neck.
Noting his frustration and impatience, [Y/N] thought for a second before hesitantly speaking up.
"Do... Do you want me to..." She shyly asked, her offer left unfinished as she reached for her back with her hands to meet his.
He looked up at her face in mild surprise as she spoke and saw her shyly move her small, delicate hands to help his fumbling ones. He could do nothing but take in the sight of that slender, fragile body of hers at that moment, and he felt his desire for her spike even more.
"... Yes, do that for me." He said in a breathless, commanding voice.
As he spoke, he leaned back slightly and, as if to pass the time while waiting for her to take off her bra, his hands promptly began to expertly remove his suit.
His suit unbuttoned, he shrugged the article of clothing off his shoulders then decided to remove his gloves; as they came off, revealing his large, powerful hands, he quickly returned them to his chest as he swiftly rid himself of his tie.
Just as her fingers had grabbed hold of the hooks of her bra, she went stiff: there, to her eyes, was a sight that surpassed even those from her wildest fantasies, the sight of him undressing right in front of her, for her eyes, a body she was about to see partially bare for the first time, and which made her heart beat exponentially faster.
She took a breath in and tried keeping her composure when she saw him starting to unbutton the last remnant of his upper body, his black shirt; in tandem with his movements, she slowly, timidly undid the clasp of her bra, before removing it and discarding it on the floor.
Gant felt her eyes on his chest as he removed his shirt, he felt her gaze on his bare torso. Her eyes on him made the thrill even more powerful, the sight of her seeing his strong muscles, his wide shoulders, and his firm pecs; it made his hunger for her even stronger.
His eyes darted down to her chest as she removed her bra and he sucked a sharp breath from the sight. She looked perfect.
Even through his pink-lensed glasses, he could see everything he wanted to: her soft, perky breasts, her round, rosy nipples, her flushed face and quivering lips. He stared hungrily, his gaze locking on her before he quickly came to stand in front of her once more, his body towering above hers.
Both of his hands promptly found her now-exposed chest: his touch was demanding, his grip on her skin firm and almost possessive as he explored every curve and inch of her, his lust progressively rising.
"... You have no idea how much I'm going to enjoy taking you." He growled, his breath hot and heavy as he spoke.
His palms inched up to her breasts, cupping, squeezing, before his fingers moved to the rosy nubs and pinched them between his thumbs and forefingers: and all the while, his sharp, piercing eyes drank her in.
[Y/N] moaned upon feeling his touch, her eyes squinted and her shoulders heaving. She felt utterly owned, her flesh melting in his palms, molded through his fingers, her torso fully offered to him, her chest feeling so small in his big, dominant grasp.
He savored the sounds of her moans and watched her shudder with satisfaction as he toyed with her sensitive skin: he could see in her eyes how powerless she was to his whims, how much she was willing to give him.
He leaned in and lowered his head, moving to bite, lick, and suckle on the tender surface of her neck.
As he continued to take over her body with his burning touches, he let one of his hands idly wander down the smooth, bare skin of her side and around to her back, his hands moving lower while he kept his lips on her neck.
Finding her waist, he did not waste any time grabbing the top of her skirt: he promptly undid the button on her hip, his movements meticulous as he pushed the thin fabric down her legs, past her knees, and around her ankles, before letting it drop to the floor.
He continued to push his body against hers, his left hand remaining on her hip and holding her down while his right moved across the front of her underwear. His touch was deliberate and confident as his thumb and forefinger hooked around the top of her panties.
As he slowly began pulling the item of clothing off of her, he raised his head from her neck.
"Lift your legs." He ordered her in a low, commanding voice.
At that, [Y/N]'s limbs were like paralyzed: eyes wide opened, she stared up into Gant's gaze in realization. She was about to completely give herself over to him. She was about to let him admire her, fully bare. She was about to be at her most vulnerable, right on the very desk of his own office. It was all so exhilarating, so scary, so thrilling, so stressful. And she wanted it.
Her gaze in his, she swallowed and nodded briefly, before she obeyed and lifted her legs for him.
Excitement coursed throughout his being as he watched her raise her legs for him. It was so incredibly empowering to know he had her completely at his mercy: there she was, that young, fragile, innocent thing, submitting herself to him, the almighty District Chief of Police who dominated everything and everyone in his path.
He firmly pushed her legs apart and stepped closer, standing between them as he slowly removed her underwear.
Once the last piece of clothing was tossed away, he stood back and enjoyed the luscious view of her naked, trembling body, of her curves, of her smoothness, of her flesh, of the pink of her flush.
"Such a pretty, young thing..." He whispered to her, his hands finding her inner thighs.
He moved slowly over her, caressing her flesh, tracing his fingers back and forth as he moved them inward.
"Such a pretty, young detective... who looks nothing like her typical, proper self." He continued, his face inches apart from hers. "... You know what you look like right now?"
She bashfully looked up at his face, her legs gently trembling under his touch; a spark of helplessness in her gaze.
"A... A w-whore?" She replied quietly, unsure as to whether that was the answer he had expected.
Gant laughed. A deep, loud, genuine, wholehearted laugh.
"My, my... I was about to say 'a plaything, a toy handmade specifically for me, all for me to use and move around'..." He started, a smirk playing on his lips.
He leaned in even more, until his mouth was right next to her ear.
"... But 'whore' actually fits just as well." He finished, his lips tickling her skin as he spoke.
He gently kissed her ear. Just the slightest, most gentle touch of his lips, but it felt so good, and sent such chills through her body. He nipped at the curve of her ear and slowly moved down to her neck, while his hands spread her legs further apart.
He left a few more kisses below her ear and along her jaw before moving back to her lips: hungrily placing one more time his mouth on hers, he then withdrew from her. His hands left her legs, somewhat reluctantly to move to his own waist, to the front of his pants.
He undid his belt, his eyes still fixed on her. Then, letting it fall to the floor after a brief moment, he proceeded to unbutton and unzip the front of his suit pants.
Soon, they, too fell to the ground next to the rest of their discarded clothes, and he kicked them to the side, leaving only one last article of clothing between them: his black boxer briefs, which had by then grown tight and restraining.
He could feel the tension. He could see her eyes fixate on the thin fabric that did a poor job of hiding his member, on the visible bulge, on the tension and anticipation that he felt all throughout his body. The look on her face was exquisite; the way she quivered, her body so tight and so warm.
He made sure to enjoy that look on her face for a moment longer, then he slowly moved a hand to the top of his boxers, hooking the edges with the tips of his fingers while his palm pulled it down.
[Y/N] watched intensely as his boxers moved lower and lower, revealing more and more of his flesh: his hips, his abdominal muscles, his thighs, until, finally, they fell and joined the other clothes on the floor, leaving him completely bare. The young woman's eyes instinctively opened wide at the sight of his manhood, now free from its confines and visibly rock-hard.
Gant took note of the look in her eyes and chuckled smugly. He had every right to feel pleased with himself: despite his age, he was still a man at his physical peak. And, being the arrogant, egotistical, narcissistic man that he was, he could not help but be proud of himself for sparking such feelings of desire in the young woman's heart.
He took a step, bringing his body to stand right in front of hers on the desk. Taking her hips in his hands, he pulled her forward, sliding her body closer to him while he spread her legs just a bit more, positioning himself between her thighs.
He held her gaze for a moment, the air thick between them. Her soft, smooth skin was against his rough, calloused hands. Her warm, supple breasts were squeezed against his bare torso.
Her face was only inches apart from his.
"I've waited so, so long for this..." He murmured huskily, his voice a low growl as he spoke.
He inhaled her scent once more, his hand raising to move against her hair, his fingers tangling into her silky locks.
"... And I'm going to enjoy every single second of it."
Summary: [Y/N] comes back, traumatized, exhausted, in shock. She comes back, past midnight, way past the time at which she was about to get back. She comes back, to her apartment, to her roommate, to her best friend, to her shelter: to Dick's arms.
Chronology: Any game.
~~~~~~~~~~
With a shaky hand, I reached inside my purse for my keys, which I inserted into the keyhole before I turned the knob and opened the front door. To my surprise, the lights inside were on, their brightness hurting my eyes and making my head dizzy.
And, sitting in the very center of the living room was Dick, sat at the table, which he almost knocked over with his legs as he promptly stood up upon seeing me enter the apartment.
"Dick? What are you doing still up?" I asked him hesitantly.
In all honesty, it mattered little to me why he was not asleep: I was just glad he was not. It was past midnight, and I needed him. I needed his company. I needed his presence.
There was nothing else I needed, nothing else I wanted.
Dick and I lived together in the same cramped apartment we rented, but we were just roommates. Just roommates. Nothing else, nothing more.
That was what I had always told myself.
But that night, after what I had just gone through, I could not deny that I craved his embrace.
And judging by the concerned look on his face and the worry in his eyes, I could tell he, too, was relieved to finally see me being back home.
"I've been worried sick about you, pal! Where have you been all this time?" He asked me in return.
I had always been a bit of a night owl, but even for me, that was later than usual. The last time Dick and I had spoken — which, admittedly, had been in the late afternoon — was when I had informed him that I had plans to meet up with a friend for drinks and dinner.
But I had told him I would be back before dark.
"I know it's late... I'm sorry..." I started with a trembling voice. "I didn't want to make you worry... I didn't think you would..."
I barely took a step toward him before I froze, standing still as I turned my head to my feet, my eyes shut tight.
"... Dick, I... I was walking on the way back home, and, it was dark, and... there was this dog..."
I took another single, slow step closer to him, still in the same stance, but this time with my hands holding my arms, which hugged my chest.
"... Dick, I was so scared..." I murmured with a heavy breath.
"Hey, hey—" He started hurriedly, trying to calm me down. "You're safe now, you're home. That's all that matters."
I was acting very strangely; I knew I was. And I could tell by the timber of his voice that Dick was greatly concerned.
"Did the dog hurt you? Was there anyone else out on the street?" He asked further, trying to get me to open up. "What happened, [Y/N]?"
I remained silent at first, listening to the sound of his voice as I kept my eyes closed, my heart rate progressively slowing down until I felt able to speak clearly.
"... I was walking up the road down the street, and all of a sudden a dog came onto the road out of nowhere." I began to explain while I sheepishly looked up into his eyes. "But it wasn't at all a dog like Missile— Well, actually, it technically was— It was a guard dog, trained for hunting, but it wasn't well-behaved and trained like Missile is... It was a German shepherd, and it came running at me, barking violently..."
"What?!" He exclaimed in both surprise and fear.
The disbelief in his tone told me the description I had made of the dog painted a terrifying mental image in his head: a German shepherd, known for being large, physically imposing, and potentially aggressive, attacking me in the dead of night.
"What happened then? You weren't hurt, were you? Are you okay now?"
"I-I wasn't hurt, don't worry—" I answered in a tone which was meant to reassure him, while I shook my head a little. "I... I guess the gate to its owner's house was opened, so it snuck out... or maybe there was a hole in the fence, or something... Either way, the dog was in the middle of the road and ran up to me while barking, and it kept barking until I backed away far enough..."
I looked back down at my feet as I slowly shrugged.
"It was protecting its house, I guess? I don't know why it was so aggressive, but it didn't bite me... But it did back me into a corner of the road... It was terrifying..."
I closed my eyes once more before I took a few deep breaths, trying to remain composed.
"... I was eventually able to walk past its house after I waited for it to return inside, but it was a really close call... I really thought I wouldn't make it back home in one piece, Dick..."
"But you're here and safe now, pal, and that's what's important." He immediately told me.
Probably due to how pale and shaky I was, I saw him give me his best attempt at a reassuring smile; since Dick and I had first met, he had never gotten to see me so terrified.
And I would have preferred for things to stay that way.
"I can't believe how dangerous this neighborhood's become since all that crime started..." He grumbled under his breath. "This is supposed to be a safe quarter, for God's sake."
"... I wish you'd been there, Dick." I spoke softly after a moment of silence.
As I uttered those words, I felt the temperature of my face rise slightly.
Surely, it was only the stress of the situation getting to me; surely, there was no other reason for me to suddenly flush.
"I kept thinking of you... of how you could have protected me if you had been with me..." I continued, my voice still low. "I just... wanted you to be there, and I wanted to be by your side... I couldn't wait to finally be home."
"I wish I could've been there too, pal..." He responded, his words gentle and tinged with regret.
Silence came to settle between us once more, the room only filled with the gentle noise of the air conditioner running. That, and the sound of my heartbeat resonating within my ears, so loud and so fast it was almost overwhelming; I convinced myself it was only beating at such a rate due to how much stress and fear my encounter with the dog had stirred in me.
I convinced myself it was the only reason. The only explanation behind my increasing shyness.
And, in fact, that very same reason was what pushed me to look up into Dick's eyes at that moment, as my eyebrows furrowed lightly and my fingers started to fidget.
"... Dick... Could... Can you hold me?" I asked him out of the blue, my voice sounding slightly awkward. "I... I could really use a hug right now..."
I witnessed his cheeks turning slightly pink as he slowly nodded.
"Uh... Yeah... Of course I can. Come here." He said, beckoning me towards him.
I took a step forward while still staring into his eyes, until I was faced with his torso, my gaze falling to his chest as he wrapped his arms around me. His strong, warm, comforting arms, the only form of solace my heart sought at that instant.
I felt the slightly sweaty palms of his hands on my cold back, I smelled the scent of his cheap cologne on the collar of his dress shirt tickling my nose, I heard the regular rhythm of his heavy breaths close to my ears, I saw the soothing rises and falls of his chest as his heart beat steadily right before my eyes.
It was pure bliss. It was exactly what my heart desired.
And it was real. Oh so real.
"There..." Dick whispered, gently stroking the top of my head to his chest as he cradled me. "You're safe now."
And for the first time that night, I did feel safe: in his arms, draped in his warmth and his affection, graced with his soothing voice and his comforting presence.
And yet, I remained completely silent. Not necessarily by choice; there were thoughts restlessly running through my mind as we hugged.
God, the things I wanted to say to him.
You feel amazing...
You're so comfortable...
Don't let go...
You mean so much to me...
Your embrace is really warm...
I want to feel your arms around me more often...
But no words came out. None of these thoughts made it past my lips. And I kept quiet as I melted into his arms, as I let all my worries fade away.
Dick, too, remained in silence as he held me; he simply continued to stroke my hair and kept me as close to him as he could. Perhaps he was thinking the same things I was thinking at that moment: but I could not be sure, as he did not utter a word. Not that it was necessary anyway.
The hug we shared was pleasant and comfortable, and his gentle aura surrounding mine was more relaxing than anything. I soon began to feel my heartbeat gradually slowing down and the tension within my chest progressively ebbing.
I took a shaky breath, closing my eyes as I leaned further into his chest, my body all of a sudden feeling rather heavy.
And I could still hear the beating of Dick's heart, slow and steady, even despite how intimately close we were to each other; the sound lulled me further into tranquility, making me feel all fuzzy from the inside.
There was only one thought in my mind at that moment.
I don't want to let go...
But I knew I had to. I could not possibly keep him standing like that forever, after all.
And so, I reluctantly, slowly pulled away from him, feeling a great deal of frustration as I did.
Dick looked down at me with his kind, concerned eyes, keeping his hands firmly on my shoulders.
"Feeling better now, pal?" He asked me in that deep, yet soft voice, the gentleness of his tone and the sweetness of his facial expression making me want nothing more than to dive right back into his arms.
"Yeah... A bit better, yeah." I nodded, the movement as timid as my eyes. "... Thank you, Dick."
I took another deep breath while I let my gaze fall on the small hallway behind him, before it returned to his face.
"... I think I'm going to go to sleep now, I need some rest." I told him with the softest expression I could conjure up despite my weariness. "... You should too, you know... You've stayed up late for me... You shouldn't have. You must be tired."
"Don't worry about me, I'm fine. You get a good night's rest for now, though." He responded, his words quiet and gentle as he slowly released his grip on me. "And if you need me for anything, I'll be in my room... Just knock on my door."
I lost track of time for a brief instant, my mind focused solely on the sensation of his grasp on my shoulders loosening.
"Alright... Thanks." I said with a weakened smile.
Slipping away from his hands completely, I took a weary step forward.
"... Well, you have a good night." I added as I slowly started making my way to my bedroom. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"... Yeah. Good night, pal." He echoed, his voice soft as I felt his eyes gently following me as I shuffled down the hallway. "Sleep well."
And with that, I retreated to my room and closed my door, followed soon after by the sound of Dick doing the same, the two of us parting for the night.
I did not bother turning on the lights right away: I simply made my way over to my bed, my mind occupied by nothing but the thoughts of everything that had just unfolded. Of the way Dick had gently held me in his arms, how he had whispered reassuring words to me, how his hands had stroked my hair as he was keeping me close, how his heart had beaten in such a steady, relaxing rhythm.
I plopped on the mattress and buried my flushed face into my pillows as my heart thumped in my chest, now for an entirely different reason.
Dick was a kind soul. I had always considered him as my best friend; the best friend everyone would ever wish to have. Yet, when I thought back to that moment, back to his tight embrace, it all felt to me like it was much more than a simple gesture between friends.
But it was impossible. I knew it was.
We were roommates. And beyond that, best friends. Nothing more.
So I pushed it all away. All the thoughts. All the emotions. All the sensations.
All the doubts.
I stood up from my bed with a huff, went to the bathroom, got myself ready for the night, then entered my room once more. I undressed, changing into a tank top and shorts; lying back down on my mattress, I took a breath and pulled the sheets over my body.
But now anxiety took over me once more: now that I had chased Dick from my mind, all that remained were my fresh memories of that dreadful dog I had encountered.
The animal's silhouette haunted me as I closed my eyes. I heard the sounds of its low growls echoing inside my ears. I felt its breath as it panted with aggression. I smelled the strong stink in its fur.
Goosebumps appeared all over the surface of my body while I felt my skin crawl, my arms wrapping around myself in a futile attempt at bringing me comfort; futile, as it did not work. My mind continued to be tormented by the canine's image.
"... Help me..." I whimpered under my breath, my grip tightening around my own body, my face flushing with heat as tears gathered in the corners of my eyes.
I wanted it to end.
I wanted to sleep.
But I could not rest. My heart was pounding in my chest, my breathing was shallow, and my limbs were shaking as if I were trapped in an ice house.
"... Dick..." I continued to whisper to myself, my voice shaky, my eyelids too heavy to keep open. "... I need you..."
And I knew I needed him.
Tears still tickling the edges of my eyes, I threw my bedsheets aside, unable to bear their weight any longer, and stumbled out of bed. My vision was hazy and my knees felt weak under my weight: I could barely stand, but I did not care. I made my way out of my room and, with trembling knuckles, knocked on my roommate's door.
I waited a few seconds while my heart beat with increasing force. I stood helpless and hopeless, until, finally, the door before me slowly opened by a fraction, revealing a half-asleep Dick standing behind it, his eyes half-open.
"... [Y/N]? Do you need something?" He asked quietly, his voice filled with concern despite the sleepiness. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"
"Y-You... You said that... if I need you for anything... I can knock on your door..." I murmured between breaths.
My gaze was fixed on the floor for a moment, before I glanced up at him.
"... Can I come in... please?"
"Of course, pal." He nodded without a trace of hesitation, his eyes still heavy but his voice still soft.
He stepped aside, holding the door open for me.
"Come in, it's all right."
I slowly entered his bedroom as he closed the door behind us, then took a brief look around: at his bedside lamp, at his messy bed, and, ultimately, at him. Even in the dim light, I could see he was close to bare, wearing only a pair of dark brown boxer shorts that matched his eyes, leaving his broad and muscular chest exposed.
"... Thanks, Dick..." I eventually said quietly. "I... I'm sorry for waking you up like this... I know it's late... You already stayed up for much longer than you should've for me, and I'm sure you just want to sleep already..."
"... Tell you the truth, I've been havin' trouble finding sleep myself. I was kind of dozing off... but not asleep asleep." He told me with a chuckle, his voice gentle as he slowly sat down on his bed. "So don't ya worry about that, really."
Somehow, inexplicably, a part of me was put at ease knowing we were both going through the same situation, knowing we could relate to each other.
The only response I gave him was a subtle, gentle nod, the slight pink on my cheeks hardly visible in the darkness of the room.
"... So, what's on your mind? Are you still stressed about the dog?" He calmly asked me after a moment of silence. "Don't tell me you can't sleep 'cause of the shock, pal."
The pink hue on my face turned darker in shame. I said nothing at first, too embarrassed to admit it.
"Hey, don't be embarrassed, it's okay." He reassured me, his voice sweet and his smile warm. "You've nothin' to be ashamed of, pal. You went through something really scary, it's totally normal you're having trouble sleeping after something like that."
"... I'm scared, Dick..." I let out in a shaky whisper, my eyes falling to my feet. "I can't get rid of that image... of its smell... of the sound of its barks... They've all been haunting me since it's happened... And I can't rest because of it... Not with those fresh memories stuck in my head..."
I brought my hands up to my arms, hugging myself defensively.
"... I've been trying to fall asleep since I told you good night, but... but I just can't manage to." I carried on. "All I've been thinking about is everything that happened... I can't help it. It just... won't go away, no matter how hard I try. It's like it's stuck in my head... I can't stop seeing that dog..."
"It's alright, [Y/N], I understand." He said in return, nodding his head slowly. "And you're safe now. You're here, with me, and that mutt can't get to you here. Hell, even if it could, I wouldn't let it... I know it's hard for you to forget about it right now, but eventually you will and it's all gonna be okay."
As I listened to him talk, I raised my eyes to his face and saw the most sympathetic expression I had ever seen from him, his gaze filled with kindness and understanding.
His words were comforting and soothing: exactly what I needed. But I knew his words were not enough. I knew my heart and soul ached for something else, something more.
"... Dick, I... I know it's... a little strange of me to ask... and a little... awkward, but... Could I... Could I maybe sleep in your bed tonight?" I asked hesitantly, my voice barely above a whisper as I continued to shyly look into his eyes. "... I don't think I can stay alone tonight, and... I don't think I'm ready to go back to my bedroom... So... if I could... stay with you tonight... I think I could maybe manage to find sleep..."
A few seconds of silence followed as those words left my mouth. My roommate simply stared at me with an expression of surprise and bashfulness plastered on his face. He sat, quiet and frozen, his mouth slightly agape, his eyes slightly wide, his face slightly flushed.
"... Y-Yeah... Sure." He finally replied with a nod after his moment of contemplation. "... Of course you can, pal... Go ahead, you can hop in."
With a gentle sigh of relief, I nodded my head back at him before I slowly made my way toward his bed and timidly lay on the mattress by his side.
"Thanks, Dick..." I muttered as I slipped between the covers, their softness and warmth providing me with instant comfort. "... Really."
"Don't mention it, [Y/N]." He said in a sweet voice as I felt him lying down beside me. "Like I said, I'm here for ya, pal... I'll always be here for ya."
With those words, he turned off the light on his nightstand and turned his back to mine. The room was now dark. Silence lingered between us as I gently pulled the blanket up to my chin. My body was still a bit tense, but only because I could feel Dick's warmth by my side. And although the fear of that earlier encounter was still there, although the memories were still present and prominent in my mind, I felt safe.
I was there, lying next to Dick, in his own bed. I was safe. I was protected. I could not help but blush as that realization occurred to me.
Even if a small part of my brain refused to shut off and was insisting on bringing those dreadful memories back, I did my best to push them aside, determined to focus on the warmth of the moment instead; and on the warmth of the person sleeping next to me, just inches away.
Time passed as I lay there with my eyes fixed on the wall, the minutes stretching for what seemed to be ages; although exhaustion weighed heavily on me, slumber simply refused to take hold of me, my thoughts too loud to let me drift off to sleep.
I delicately rolled over onto my other side, my body making barely audible sounds as it brushed between the sheets and the mattress. Dick was still lying with his back to me. I could hear the quietness of his breathing.
I observed his figure in the darkness of the room, unable to take my eyes off him: I lingered on the shape of his muscular shoulders, on the broadness of his back, on the way his spine rose and fell slowly while he inhaled and exhaled.
And then I could no longer hold myself back.
Without a word or a sound, I moved closer to him until my body was pressed into his; I almost recoiled at the sudden sensation of his bare skin against my limbs. I restrained myself and only twitched slightly as I timidly wrapped an arm around his torso and hesitantly rested my head against his back.
On impact, a soft gasp of surprise escaped him at the same time as his body tensed up around me, his whole frame going rigid, save for a shiver that I felt run through him.
"[Y/N]? W-What are you—" He began to ask me in a trembling voice but cut himself off before he could finish.
As he fell quiet, I held my breath: I was suddenly filled with dread at the thought that, perhaps, I had made a terrible mistake.
"I-I'm sorry— I know this must be weird for you..." I said quietly, my tone as uncertain as my emotions. "... I know t-this is very sudden and probably strange to you... b-but... I just..."
My voice drifted off into silence as I struggled to find the right words to express myself.
"... I just wanted to be close to you..."
Silence continued to weigh on us; then, I heard him exhale slowly, felt his body tensing up ever so slightly.
"... Do... Do you... wanna be even closer?" He hesitantly asked, and I could picture the flush on his face through his voice. "Because... I don't mind... if that's what you want."
His offer caught me off-guard and left me stunned, but I quickly composed myself and nodded against his back as my heart started racing.
"... Yeah... I do." I answered, my murmur tender.
There was another moment of silence, and then he gently took my hand in his and cautiously intertwined our fingers. The gesture was so soft, so delicate, as if he was afraid I would pull away from him at any second. But that was the last thing I wanted to do, my heart swelling with a spark that made me crave his touch more than anything.
As I lay there, pressed against Dick's warm body, my heart racing and my breath uneven, I could not help but feel a strange mixture of emotions swirling inside me: I was nervous and excited, I was vulnerable and protected, all at once. His gentle touch, the warmth of his skin, the rhythm of his breathing against my face; all of it was both familiar and foreign, and yet, it felt right.
I closed my eyes and buried my face against his back. The muscles of his shoulder blades beneath my cheek were firm, strong, but the hair on his chest was soft and relaxing to caress. He was so much bigger than me, so much stronger in so many ways: and despite it all, in that moment, I felt so perfectly secure with him.
Time seemed to lose all meaning as I clung to him, unable to find the will to let go. My body may have been tired, but my mind was wide awake, caught between a strange mixture of confusion and relief. I pondered over my feelings, marching through them as they raged inside me, Dick's embrace keeping me grounded in comfort and serenity.
As I lay there, listening to the sound of his breathing, I knew I had at last found the solace I had been seeking since the very beginning: a solace I never wanted to let go of.
"... I think I'm in love with you." I suddenly blurted out in the quietest of whispers, my grip on him tightening as the words slipped through my lips.
At my unprompted confession, I felt his body tense up once more under my touch. He held his breath for a moment, his fingers gripping my hand firmly.
"... Did... Did you... just say that you're in love with me?" He asked in a trembling voice, a note of disbelief in his tone.
I nodded shyly, my heart hammering so hard in my chest I thought it would burst out; I was unsure of what his response would be, of whether he would reject me or reciprocate my feelings. But, at that moment, all I cared about was being honest, with him and myself.
"... I think... I always have been." I spoke up after a moment, my voice barely above a whisper.
Both of us remained perfectly still, lost in our respective thoughts and emotions. Then, to my surprise, Dick shifted slightly under my touch, rolling over onto his other side so he could face me. He pulled me impossibly closer to him, wrapping his strong, muscular arms around me in a gentle, but firm embrace.
"... I... I've always felt the same way about you, too..." He confessed quietly, his voice filled with emotion. "I just... I never really knew how to tell you... and I didn't know if you could feel the same way... and I was too afraid to say anything, because I... I didn't want to risk losing you..."
His heavy words affected both of us: his breath against my skin, warm and reassuring grew unsteady, while my heart palpitated with happiness and relief. All this time, we had both been harboring feelings for one another, too scared to express them, but now we had finally taken that leap together, and it felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.
I nuzzled my face into the crook of his neck, the steady rhythm of his pulse beating against my skin. I had never felt so loved and safe.
"... I'm so glad you were brave enough to tell me." He whispered softly, looking into my eyes affectionately. "And... And I want you to know that I'll always be here for you, no matter what happens. I'm never gonna leave your side, not for anything in the world."
One of his hands slid from the back of my head to my face, gently cupping my cheek as he made me look into his eyes.
"... I love you, [Y/N]." He murmured, his voice barely audible in the quiet of the room as he locked his gaze with mine.
"... I love you too, Dick." I replied in a tone as quiet as his, my words filled with sincerity and warmth.
And then, as if in a dream, his lips met mine, capturing them in a soft and tender kiss. As our lips connected, the world around us immediately faded away: the worries and fears that had plagued me earlier began to melt into distant memories, leaving only the feeling of his touch, of his warmth, and of his love. In that moment, all that mattered was he and I, joined in a way that words could never fully express. I could feel the electricity in his touch pulsing through me, igniting a fire within my core that burned with passion and desire.
And I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that I never wanted to let go of him.
We gently pulled back from the kiss, both of us full of an intense mix of emotions. Our foreheads rested against each other, neither of us speaking as we simply lay in his bed, enjoying the feeling of being so close to one another, savoring this newfound intimacy between us. As I gazed into Dick's eyes, I felt a sense of awe and wonder: this man, this incredible man who had always been there for me, had now become mine, and I had become his.
Although I wished for the moment to stretch out into infinity, fatigue eventually began to claim us both: as our eyelids started to droop, Dick pulled me even closer to him and planted a tender kiss on my temple.
"Let's get some rest, now." He lovingly whispered in my ear, his voice a tickling murmur against my skin. "I'll keep telling you how much I love you some more in the morning, but for now, we should both be gettin' some rest... Together."
I nodded with a small, tired smile, exhaustion settling in and enveloping me like a warm blanket.
With a soft sigh, I snuggled into Dick's embrace, my body fitting perfectly against his. His warmth and the steady beating of his heart lulled me into peace, and, slowly, my eyes finally closed for the night.
Summary: [Y/N] offers to spend an evening out with Dick in the bar right down her street. But while it starts as a means for the two to unwind and relax, it becomes clear - through liquor, chatter, and cheers - that real feelings are at play.
Chronology: Any game.
~~~~~~~~~~
She hurried down the street, her heels echoing on the sidewalk; she hated that she was late, even by only five minutes. But she could not help it.
She had spent longer than expected getting ready, but she could not afford to show up scruffy. It was just a night out at the bar, she knew it, but she simply could not help it.
Soon enough, in the nearing distance, she spotted Detective Gumshoe standing at the bar's entrance, visibly waiting for her.
"Detective Gumshoe!" She called out to him.
A smile came over his face as he watched her approaching, seemingly happy to see her.
"[Y/N]! How was your day?"
"Good, thank you." She answered in a slightly panting voice with a smile of her own. "I'm really sorry I'm late, I hope you haven't been waiting for me here for too long... I had trouble deciding what to wear..."
She looked down at her own body, at her clothes, and felt her cheeks redden slightly.
"... I hope I'm not overdoing it." She added in a shy whisper.
"I only got here a minute or two ago, don't worry." He reassured her with a chuckle before he looked her up and down. "But ya don't look bad at all. I think ya look quite lovely, actually."
His warm grin soon vanished as he realized his compliments were making both of them embarrassed; more than they already were, to begin with.
"I-I mean, that is, uh... y'know what? I'll just shut up before I put my foot in it." He mumbled while he cleared his throat. "... In any case, the wait was worth it."
She felt the tips of her ears burn as a shy, embarrassed smile shaped her lips.
"Thank you..." She whispered while her hands fiddled with the end of her sleek black skirt.
Before she could let silence take over, she decided to continue talking in an attempt to break the tension between them.
"You look good yourself, Gumshoe." She told him with a nod.
But it only made things worse: the man was dressed exactly as usual, tie and coat on, even down to that red pencil he would keep behind his left ear.
"I mean—" She promptly added, her eyes lowering to the ground. "Nothing's different in your outfit compared to usually... But, you know, you always look good."
And somehow, she had taken it even beyond "worse".
"I-I mean— It's just— Your, hum... Never mind, pretend I didn't say anything..." She stammered in embarrassment, her entire face red.
"No, no, please, keep going." He said with a wide grin as he gestured for her to continue. "You were saying?"
His grin was contagious, and [Y/N] had to try her best not to smile back in return: she could not help but let out a little giggle as she looked at him, hearing her heart beat in her ears. And no matter how hard she was trying not to let her emotions get the better of her, it was evident to both of them that they shared a mutual attraction.
"I wasn't saying anything... You big, dumb idiot." She murmured shyly under her breath, her eyes still averting his.
She gently cleared her throat then gestured to the doorway, in front of which they were both standing.
"Anyway, let's just... go in already, shall we?" She asked him as she motioned with her hands. "We didn't come here to spend the entire evening out on the doorstep, after all."
"Right you are." He responded with a nod.
Still smiling, Gumshoe stood straight and beckoned her into the bar with an extended arm; as they stepped inside, [Y/N] felt her heart start to race, noticing how closely he was walking beside her. Her eyes darted everywhere around them in an attempt to try and take in her surroundings, but all she could truly focus on in the end was the detective's handsome face.
Eventually, however, she managed to snap out of it and dedicated some time to scanning the inside of the bar: the establishment was not overcrowded, but not deserted either. She looked around her and her eyes landed on the bar counter, behind which stood the bartender.
I don't know what's best for us... should we sit at the counter or a table? Hmm... I wonder what he'd prefer...
"... We could sit at this table, if that's all right with you?" She asked him after a moment of silence as she pointed to an available table nearby, only slightly isolated from the others.
Although a part of me wishes to merge with the decor by sitting at the counter, I also crave intimacy right now...
"That sounds wonderful." He answered with a gentle chuckle. "A table it is."
A light smile passed over his face and he began to walk over to the spot the young woman had pointed to; once they had both reached the table, he held her chair out for her to sit on.
"Allow me to provide service, m'lady." He said, grinning.
She could not help but giggle at his behavior, so charming and endearing, as she sat down.
"Well, in that case, allow me to repay that service, my good sir." She said in return with a grin of her own. "Tell me what drink you'd like to get and I'll go order it at the counter along with mine."
For a woman to take a man's order in his place could sometimes be seen as inappropriate, that she was well aware of, and she was not sure whether Gumshoe would accept her offer, but she wanted him to know she cared about him.
He laughed and shook his head as he looked up at the ceiling, before looking back down at her, right into her eyes.
"Your good manners, I love 'em, [Y/N]."
With that comment, her eyes darted away and a thin layer of blush appeared over her cheeks.
"Y'know, you don't have to do this... but I'll accept it." He told her with a sly grin while he leaned on the table with his arms. "I'll have a beer, please."
"One beer, duly noted." She said with a warm smile as she got up from the table. "Then, I'll be right back with our drinks, Gumshoe."
As she spoke these words, she gently tapped on the table with her hand, her eyes looking directly into his, before she made her way to the counter, her smile still present, though it was now accompanied by a hue of pink on her cheeks.
He watched her walk away and could not help but admire that adorable walk of hers, his gaze still locked onto her figure.
... She's a real sweetheart, ain't she? He asked himself in thought. She's definitely actin' cute, and her words only make it ten times better... Darn, I have to keep my composure, I can feel my face turn red just thinking 'bout it all.
Once having reached the bar, [Y/N] called out to the bartender and ordered their two drinks; as she waited for them to be made and served to her, she started to get lost in thought, the longer she stood straight.
Things are going well with Gumshoe so far. If only I could be less nervous around him... But I just can't help it, he's so... him.
Soon enough, both of their drinks were set in front of her by the bartender, whom she thanked before she walked back to the table, one drink in each hand. She returned with a smile and placed his drink before him, then sat back down.
"One beer for you, and one whiskey on the rocks for me." She said with her glass in hand.
"Thank you, [Y/N]." He responded with a smile as he took the bottle from her hand.
But as he looked down at his drink and then down at hers, he let out a low chuckle.
"Wouldn't ya rather have somethin' light like a beer?" He asked her before he took a sip. "I mean, I can't even imagine what you're like when you're drunk... but I feel like I'd like to see it, actually."
"Oh, because you really think one glass of whiskey will get me drunk?" She rhetorically asked with a scoff. "Please, it takes more than that for me to be tipsy. I can hold my alcohol pretty well, you know."
She drank from her glass, the pleasant taste of liquor flowing down her throat, then looked back into his eyes with a playful smile.
"Besides, even if that does end up happening, it's Friday night." She added. "One Saturday morning hangover wouldn't be a problem."
Weirdly, her words made him feel somewhat more comfortable, taking another sip to ease his nerves further.
"Well, guess I have to see it for myself, then. But I just know you're adorable when drunk. You can already be a bit of a handful normally, so I can't imagine what kinda shenanigans you'd come up with once you've drank..."
Upon hearing his choices of adjectives, her playful smile vanished in an instant to be replaced with somewhat of a pout, her confidence having suddenly left her, shyness taking over in its place.
"Y-Yeah, well... we'll see." She muttered as she looked away.
With both of her hands wrapped around her glass, she raised it slightly towards him in an attempt to make it meet with his beer bottle; and, despite her slight awkwardness, she forced herself to look into his brown eyes as she did so.
"In any case, cheers." She said affectionately.
He held his bottle up towards her glass and they both clinked their drinks together.
"Cheers, [Y/N]."
Gumshoe took a swig of his drink, his expression mostly filled with joy, though a slight hint of embarrassment was readable as well. He felt his heart beating in his ears, feeling so close to her at that one moment: he wanted to reach out and hold her hand in his own, but he fought against the urge. It was not long before he felt his cheeks beginning to flush again and he cleared his throat while he put on a grin, trying to hide his timidity.
After their toast, [Y/N] swallowed another sip of her whiskey before she put the glass back down in front of her on the table. As if being fully rid of her shyness once more, she smiled in a relaxed manner while she closed her eyes, a sigh escaping her lips.
"Man, this really feels good." She said with genuine appreciation.
She opened her eyes and her gaze immediately found his in a moment of tenderness.
"I'm really glad you agreed to spend this evening with me, Gumshoe." She told him sincerely. "Finally having reached the weekend, not having to think about work, being able to relax and unwind... I really needed it. And I know you did too... and I'm happy we get to take this much-deserved break together."
"Well said, [Y/N]! I'm more than happy to spend this evening with ya, and I'm glad you proposed it. I can't stress enough how much I agree... My work's been real challengin' lately, so it's always wonderful to feel the peace of not having to think 'bout it."
He could not help but smile while his cheeks continued to redden and his heart continued to quickly beat inside his chest; he truly had been looking forward to that meeting at the bar, and now that it was finally happening, all he felt was sheer happiness and an odd sense of safety in her company.
"My thoughts exactly." She said with a light chuckle. "Don't get me wrong, I love helping Phoenix out with his cases and investigations, but boy, is it exhausting. And I'm not even an actual attorney myself, I'm only an... attorney helper, all I do is fieldwork, yet it's already so tiring... I don't know how he does it."
The young woman looked down into her glass, into the honey-colored liquid swirling gently, then looked up into Gumshoe's eyes with a more tender expression.
"... And the same goes for you." She added. "I'm always so happy to lend you a hand in your detective work whenever I can, but I won't lie, sometimes it's a lot for me. You work so hard all the time, it's honestly quite impressive."
"Well, you're right about that." He told her, still smiling, as he took a sip of his beer. "I'll admit, I sometimes don't even realize just how much time I end up spending on work. Truth is, I don't think it's 'cause I love my job that I dedicate so much time to it... Frankly, I don't really know what else to do with my life, and I'm not even sure if I wanna do anything else with it... But that's just somethin' I need to figure out on my own at some point."
The emotion in her gaze turned sad as she stared at him, a feeling of compassion weighing on her heart. Her eyes instinctively landed on his hands, holding his beer bottle in their palms, and then her heartbeat began to pick up speed: after a short moment of hesitation, she outstretched her right arm over the table and reached for one of his hands, delicately placing hers over his. The two of them stared into one another's eyes as a smile formed on her face.
"... Hey, for what it's worth, I think you make an amazing detective." She told him with honesty. "I personally wouldn't see you doing any other job... though, I do understand the doubts and worries. And no matter the choices you might make throughout your career, I'll be here to support you through them."
Gumshoe looked surprised yet overjoyed that she chose to hold his hand, leading his cheeks to turn red for the umpteenth time that night, his pulse racing.
"[Y/N]..."
He cleared his throat - somewhat awkwardly - before he looked back down at their hands: in earnest, he was not quite used to showing so much affection to someone in such a way. And at the same time, it simply felt too good to be true, the pleasant sensation of her smooth, warm hand against his own overwhelming him and making him forget all of his concerns and doubts.
[Y/N] smiled further and closed her eyes as she slightly tilted her head to the side, before she removed her hand from his and placed it back around her glass, a hint of blush on her cheeks.
"Anyway, I'm sorry I brought all this up in the first place. I said we didn't have to think about work, and yet here I am, rambling on about it." She said with a chuckle. "Let's cast it all aside for tonight and enjoy ourselves, hm?"
The detective could not help but feel sad that she had decided to withdraw her hand, but he forced himself to play it cool; after all, it was her right to do so, even though the thought of being able to hold her hand longer excited him.
"Yeah, that sounds good."
His lips formed a smile as he said those words and he felt himself relax, actually managing to take his mind off his worries for once.
"But don't worry 'bout all that, I think it's nice to discuss these things, and I really do mean that." He added with a nod as he took another swig of his beer.
And so the evening went on.
As time passed, the two of them exchanged smiles and jokes, their voices echoing around them, bouncing off the glasses and bottles in their hands. They were fully rid of worries, their conversation leading them to chat about anything and everything, but always light-heartedly. Over the course of the evening, [Y/N] ordered a second drink, then a third, which motivated Gumshoe to do the same; but while the alcohol in his veins seemed to barely affect him, it was undeniable she was becoming a little tipsy. And with it, all her inhibitions seemed to have vanished from her body.
She leaned forward and rested her chin on the palm of her hand, her elbow set on the table.
"Say, Gummy, while we're on the topic of food, are you getting a little hungry?" She asked him with a tipsy smile. "I sure am..."
He looked at her with a big grin, taking in her change in demeanor, noticing a hint of flirtatiousness in her voice.
"Actually... yeah, me too, now that ya mention it." He answered with a warm chuckle. "Should we order somethin'?"
"I just... don't want to have to buy something, though..." She let out with a sigh, her eyes slowly closing. "I've already spent enough money on our drinks as it is, I don't really feel like spending more on food."
She opened her eyes back and stared down at her almost empty glass.
"But I do feel like eating something..." She whispered to herself.
She had a point about not wanting to spend more money, Gumshoe knew it; but in his current state, he did not care anymore and only wanted more of that good feeling, more time with her, more time together with no worries.
"Oh, I know all 'bout that feeling." He said with a grin. "I can pay, [Y/N]."
The young woman could not help but laugh aloud at his words, her saddened expression disappearing completely from her face.
"You? Paying? With what money?" She rhetorically asked between two laughs.
As she heard herself speak, she realized just then the inappropriate tone and rudeness of her words, both of which had been completely unintentional. Her wide grin diminished as a feeling of shame invaded her from within.
"Uh, I mean... Sorry, Gummy, I... I didn't mean it like that, my words came out much worse than I wanted them to..." She apologized with embarrassment. "It's just... we both know Edgeworth really underpays you, and I know your salary doesn't... really allow you to afford as much as mine can..."
She avoided his eyes completely, too ashamed of herself to confront his gaze.
"That's why I decided to be the one to pay for all the drinks tonight... and I'd feel terrible having to ask you to pay for food."
The silence did not last long, as it was soon broken by a hearty laugh, accompanied by a sign of the hand.
"It's okay, [Y/N]." He told her in a reassuring tone. "I promise I didn't take it as badly as ya think. It ain't like you said anything bad anyway. I mean, you're right, I don't earn enough to make that kinda decision with my money. But don't sweat it, I don't mind paying, 'specially if it means I can spend more time with you."
Her eyes immediately rose to meet his as her heart ached ever so slightly in her chest.
"Gummy..." She let out softly, her eyebrows a little furrowed.
As she looked back down at her hands on the table, she felt as though she could have cried, most likely a cause of the alcohol in her veins that accentuated her emotions.
God, I feel so goddamn stupid... She thought to herself as she squeezed her eyes shut. What the hell was I thinking, saying this out loud? He must think I'm so mean, now...
However, after a few seconds of sulking in silence, a sudden idea crossed her mind out of the blue.
"Hey..." She hesitantly started, catching Gumshoe's attention. "... Maybe, instead of either one of us buying something, we could... head back to my place together, and eat dinner there?"
"Huh? Head back to your place?" He repeated as he tilted his head. "You want us to go to your apartment to eat and not order somethin'?"
His curiosity was now piqued, his thoughts racing until he could not suppress a smirk, his imagination suddenly starting to run wild.
"I mean, let's be honest here for a second..." She started as she gestured her hands around. "You're going to take me back home anyway, right? It's—"
She put her sentence on hold for a brief moment, the time for her to reach for her phone and check the time.
"... 10:14 PM, right now, so it's dark out, I'm wearing heels, and I'm tipsy. Knowing you and your gentlemanly ways, you'd never in a million years let me walk back home on my own. My apartment's not far from here, it's only a solid 10 minutes on foot, so you'd walk me there."
She stopped talking, but only to rest both of her elbows on the table and place her chin on the palms of her hands, as she looked at him with a hint of playfulness inside her eyes.
"... In that case, what's the harm in me inviting you in?" She asked him. "You'd be there already, you know?"
He could not help but chuckle as he gave it some thought: she was right, he never would have let her walk by herself, especially this late at night, especially in the state she was in.
"Huh, I guess you're right..." He said as he raised a playful eyebrow. "That makes a whole lotta sense, actually."
Not wanting to waste a single second, she grabbed her purse and got up from her chair, though not without swaying just slightly to the side. With a grin, she stood in front of him and reached for one of his arms.
"C'mon, just gulp down what's left of your beer and we'll be good to go." She told him in a motivational tone of voice, both of her hands wrapped around his forearm.
"Okay, okay! I'm drinkin' up, okay?" He said with a chuckle before finishing his drink. "Sheesh, the pressure's on, I wasn't ready for this amount of stress."
He stood up from the table and held her arm, his cheeks turning a dark pink: with her standing so close to him, he simply could not control his physical reactions. With the thought of having to head off to her place and dine with her, his heart began to pick up the pace, beating even faster than it had earlier.
The two of them made their way across the bar until they reached the front doors: but as they pushed them open and stepped outside, [Y/N] was greeted with the cold evening air, spreading chills over her bare arms and shoulders.
Her smile quickly left her face to be replaced with an expression of discomfort, all while her hands rubbed her arms vigorously.
"God, it's a little cold tonight..." She sighed. "The temperature must've gone down super quickly, it wasn't this cold when we walked in just a few hours ago..."
Gumshoe's expression immediately changed the instant he saw the uncomfortable look on her face. And as soon as he saw her rub her arms in an attempt to keep herself warm, something snapped within him; in a sense, it was instinctual, as if his body was telling him what to do.
Without hesitation, he removed his coat and promptly draped it over her shoulders.
"Here, have my coat."
Upon seeing his warm smile and feeling the weight of his large coat on her shoulders, her eyes opened wide and her face turned a crimson red.
"G-Gummy..." She muttered shyly while looking down at herself.
His trench coat was twice her size, her arms now completely hidden underneath the sleeves, and a strong smell began to surround her: the aroma of cologne, along with hints of coffee, mixed in with a very familiar scent, warm and reassuring. She was like draped in a sensation of comfort, no longer feeling the cold reaching her.
Now once again overcome with emotions, she looked up at him and met with his affectionate eyes.
"... Thank you." She simply told him, too shy to say any more.
He stared down at her with a gentle grin.
God, she looks really adorable in my coat.
In fact, she looked incredibly small, almost fragile wearing it, the fabric most likely too heavy and stiff for her stature. But he was glad to see wearing it made her feel better; it was the least he could do.
"You don't have to thank me."
"In any case, we should get going now." She stated, trying her hardest to sound nonchalant. "I'll lead the way."
For roughly ten minutes, the two of them walked side by side, supporting each other physically when needed, as they chit-chatted casually, until they finally arrived at [Y/N]'s apartment building; once there, they stopped in front of her door and she dived her hand inside her purse in search of the key.
"Here we are." She declared as she inserted the key into the lock.
She pushed the door open and stepped in, after which she made room for Gumshoe to enter the hallway.
"It's not the most luxurious or spacious place out there, but it's where I live. Please, don't hesitate to make yourself at home."
He followed her around with a smile while analyzing his surroundings: it really was not all that extraordinary, as she had stated, but it was not a terrible place either. It was nice, cozy, and provided enough space for the both of them to move around freely.
"It's nice enough, pal. Nothin' you should be embarrassed about." He reassured her. "And don't you worry, I am most definitely plannin' on making myself at home, ya don't gotta tell me twice."
With a chuckle, she went to close and lock the front door behind them, after which she set her purse down on the small table in the hallway. But, just as she entered the living room, just as she was about to take her heels off, she looked down at herself and her eyes fell to his green trench coat, still resting over her shoulders.
"... Now that we're inside and all warm, I guess I don't need your coat anymore..." She slowly said, looking up at him mid-sentence.
Her cheeks turned a soft shade of pink, and that she knew was caused by neither the temperature nor the alcohol: with a shy smile, she stared back down at the coat and clung tightly onto it.
"... I know I should hand it back to you, now... But I won't lie, I really like wearing it. It's all big... and warm... like you..."
She spoke without thinking, a silly smile plastered on her face, the alcohol in her veins taking over her speech. The words caught Gumshoe off guard and made his cheeks turn a strong pink hue, but a gentle smile started forming on his lips the more he thought about her comment: he found it more than a little endearing to hear her call him "big" and "warm". He began to wonder if her straightforward attitude was due to the alcohol coursing through her, or if it was something else. Either way, he did not mind it one bit.
"... Y'know, ya can keep it if you want." He smiled. "... Ya look pretty cute in it anyway."
"No, no." She promptly followed stubbornly, shaking her head. "I have to give it back to you, it's yours. It's your trench coat, and I'm no thief. I wouldn't want you to arrest and handcuff me for stealing it from you."
She could tell her words did not make much sense, her brain capacities suddenly reduced by at least half, it seemed, but it mattered little to her: she felt safe, around him, in the comfort of her own home, enough to let herself go.
She took a step towards him, their bodies now only an inch from one another, and removed the green trench coat from her shoulders. Then, clumsily, she leaned forward and did her best to put it over his own.
"Here." She said softly.
Surprise struck him when he watched her get so close to him, and when he watched her clumsy movements: as she attempted to place the coat over his shoulders, he ended up having to help her do it. Just as it fell over his figure, he felt her fingers slightly brush against his arm, and she did not even move back. She stared up into his brown eyes, and the close proximity between them made her heart beat at a million miles; neither of them dared move, both of their faces ranging from pink to red as they stared into each other's gazes.
He was so close to her. His face was only inches away from her own. He could hear her breathing. He could feel her warmth. The scene was overwhelming. He could not help but lean in closer to her, his skin feeling incredibly hot.
There was a sense of anxious affection in his eyes, and a sense of longing passion in hers. And she decided it was about time she would finally put this longing to rest.
Without a second thought, she grabbed Gumshoe's orange tie and pulled on it, the knot loose enough not to strangle him, but her grip strong enough to bring his face down: enough for her to lean in and kiss him.
The moment their lips met, she let out a soft, instinctive sigh against his mouth, while her other hand came to rest on his chest. It all felt so good, so passionate, so heavenly.
Her actions took him by surprise, but his body reacted immediately: as soon as her lips touched his, his arms wrapped around her, holding her tight. His body was on fire, and his heart was beating at twice the usual pace; he felt incredible, as if his entire life had been completely fulfilled in that one, single action. He held her tight, pulling her closer and closer against him. He never wanted to let the moment go.
The feeling of his strong, warm hands on her waist and sides triggered something within her, a sensation of sheer craving. Slowly, her body began to back up, her movements somewhat clumsy and wavering due to her tipsy state, her legs moving on their own, until her back hit the nearest wall: there, trapped between the wall and him, his body pinning hers against it, she felt small and weak under his silhouette, but in the best way possible. Blindly, as her lips were still kissing his, she took off her heels in haste, her height reduced by a few inches, before she raised her right leg against his body, her bare skin sliding against the fabric of his pants until it reached and stopped at his waist.
He was almost light-headed, his blood pumping through his veins as he slowly pushed her leg forward before gently grabbing the back of her knees, raising both of her feet above the ground so that she was completely against the wall. The heat inside of him was intense.
He knew he should not stop. Not now.
Upon feeling him effortlessly lift her body off the ground, she sighed against his lips once more. She tightly wrapped both of her legs around his waist in hopes of finding balance and support as his hands held her thighs; whether unconsciously or deliberately, his fingers began to progressively roll her skirt up her legs while his palms pressed against her skin. Whichever it was, it was enough to make her pull away from his lips.
"Dick—" She breathed out instinctively, her eyes still closed as she rested the back of her head against the wall, her neck almost fully outstretched.
His grip on her legs tightened, his hands continuing to roll her skirt, up, and up, and up. His fingers were on her bare legs, and his lips touched her neck; with every second that passed, he wanted to kiss and touch more and more of her. There was nothing holding him back. His lips found their way to her neck at the same time as her arms circled his, her palms holding onto the back of his head with a passion, her fingers caressing his hair: the sensation of his stubble against her delicate skin was intoxicating, the friction rough and prickly as his mouth kissed and nibbled.
"Dick..." She repeated in a whisper. "... Let's take this to the bedroom."
His head was spinning with passion as his fingers continued to caress her skin, now running through the ends of her hair. With her arms around him, he could feel every little movement she made, every little breath she took, and it all sent chills down his spine. His heart wanted her, and so did his body.
"Let's." He nodded in agreement.
His hands traveled from her thighs to her behind, a gesture that caught her off-guard until she understood it was for him to cling onto her as he pulled her off the wall; with very little effort, he secured the young woman into his embrace as he began to walk, his strength impressive though not surprising.
As the two approached [Y/N]'s room, her legs still tightly wrapped around his body, she tugged at his tie once more, in an attempt to make him stop walking, just as his feet reached the doorway.
"Hey, hey! No shoes inside the bedroom, mister." She told him with a teasing smile as she pointed down at his feet.
The way she had stopped him in his tracks, in such a flirty manner made Gumshoe chuckle; he had to admit he enjoyed seeing her take charge.
"Alright, alright. Hold on—"
He stopped walking, still carrying her in his arms, and promptly took off his shoes.
"There." He told her with a smile. "Happy now?"
"Yes, thank you." She replied before leaning in and gently kissing his cheek as a token of her gratitude.
As he stepped into the bedroom, her eyes fell on her own hands, both of which were still holding his tie, and she flushed upon letting go of it.
"Hey, by the way... Hum, sorry for pulling on your tie like that, for the second time..." She started, slightly embarrassed. "I hope it's not hurting you or anything. And I hope it doesn't bother you, like, turn you off... I don't know if you're maybe... into it or if it's actually not your type of thing..."
He chuckled wholeheartedly.
"If I was turned off by a cute 'n' hot girl constantly pulling on my tie, there'd be somethin' wrong with me. I kinda liked it, actually. You don't really gotta ask about any of those things, anyway. If you enjoy it and I'm not uncomfortable with it, feel free to do whatever ya want. Do me a favor and don't hold back."
Her eyes opened slightly wider as she stared at him, at the spark of desire in his gaze.
"... Fuck, it's really sexy when you say stuff like this."
The second the words left her mouth, she realized a little too late she had blurted out her thoughts instead of having kept them inside her head. She stared at him, her entire face feeling as though it had been set on fire.
"... I meant to think that and not say it out loud, but you know what? You deserve to hear it. You're incredibly sexy and the way you look into my eyes while you flirt with me is very hot, and I really want you right now." She blurted out in one single breath.
"[Y/N]... I really want you too..." He said after a few seconds of silence, his voice husky.
The warmth of his breath as he said those words bounced off her skin, their faces so close to one another, and she did not hesitate a single second before closing what little distance remained as she made her lips meet his once more. She closed her eyes while her hands moved to his chest, while his legs began to walk again, in the direction of her bed, only a foot or two away from them.
Her eyes were still closed when she felt him lean forward and put her down on the mattress, her back coming in contact with the soft sheets; as he did so, they had no choice but to break their kiss and pull away. There, he stood before her, positioned between her open legs, his figure towering over her in a way that matched the look in his eyes: in a way that made her hold her breath and rendered her speechless. He stared down at her, at her body lying over the bed, at her messy hair surrounding her head, until his eyes met hers, and silence filled the entire room: he felt his breath catching in his throat, completely lost in her gaze. For a few seconds, as their stares locked, she remained quiet, and so did he; then, without saying a word, while still lying down on her back, she reached for the hem of her top and pulled it up with both of her hands. In a swift second, it went over her head and was tossed on the pillows.
With her upper body now only covered with her bra, shielding her breasts from his view, she breathed heavily while staring at his lower body, her gaze falling on his belt. His blood boiled in his veins, his thoughts became a lot less tame, his desire slowly grew stronger: understanding well the meaning behind her eyes, he slowly undid his belt, pulling it out of the loops. As he let it fall to the ground, a burning sensation quickly spread throughout his body. She watched him remove his belt in silence, his eyes devouring hers as his hands went to work around his waist. That simple sight was enough to arouse her, a certain warmth taking over her and making her close her legs on instinct.
She could not hold herself back any longer: she rose on the bed, just slightly, enough to reach his tie and grab it yet once more, her hand dragging his entire body closer to hers. With her free hand, she held his right shoulder and sensually slid his black suit off, which prompted him to remove it altogether. Then, still as sensually, she slowly loosened his tie and removed it from around his neck, letting it drop on the floor beside the bed. Her touch was electrifying, sending waves of pleasure all through his body, and he, too could no longer hold back: with a loud grunt, he pushed her legs apart and crawled on top of her, his breath catching in his throat. A quiet noise escaped her lips upon feeling his hands on her thighs, his fingers holding them in place as he opened her legs; she closed her eyes and let him take the lead, take full control of the situation and her body. Slowly, his palms went up her skin until they reached her sides, just above her waist, and just below her bra.
Just as she opened her eyes back, she saw him lean forward and soon felt his lips on her neck again, which made her sigh multiple times as her back arched slightly. His hands traveled further upwards and slid behind her back, his touch possessive. Her body was simply too sweet for him, too soft to the touch, and with her limbs snaked around him at every single moment, his need continued to expand: a part of him wanted to take things slow, but the other had already been deprived of her touch for far too long.
As he bit the lower half of her neck, his right hand coming to rest beside her body on the mattress, she moved her hands down to his neck, her palms grabbing the collar of his dress shirt; her fingers began unbuttoning it, the sheer thought of his bare chest against her driving her crazy. Eventually, his shirt dropped from his body with the help of her hands, exposing his torso and stomach. It did not take long before [Y/N]'s hands roamed his chest: now that it was bare, her fingertips could explore every curve, touch every line, feel every muscle. And it was paradise. Nothing could have made that moment better.
Gumshoe left a trail of shivers behind him as he traveled across her skin; the feeling of his palms slowly caressing her hips through the fabric of her skirt, the sensation of his fingers firmly holding her thighs as he pushed them open, the burning warmth and overwhelming strength of his hand muscles on her skin. It all felt amazing. Her mouth exhaled heavy breaths as her hands moved to his back, her arms circling his wide upper body as best as she could. And she opened her eyes halfway, just enough to stare inside his.
As he lay there, on top of her, he reached for the hem of her skirt, gently grabbing it: for a few seconds, he looked at it, at her legs underneath, before slowly pulling the skirt off her body. She watched his fingers fumble with the zipper of her skirt as he opened it, she watched his palms grab the fabric as he slid it down her legs, she watched the desire appear in his gaze as her underwear got exposed for his eyes to see. She lay on her back, only partially covered, and her heart rate accelerated greatly while her face grew red. She had done that before, and yet, she could not help but feel vulnerable, feel slightly insecure about her own body: because no other man before had ever meant so much to her as he did.
He looked down into her eyes, then down at her body.
"... You're so gorgeous, I don't even know what to say..."
His voice was slightly wavering, but not due to the alcohol or the exhaustion. It was his heart that spoke up.
"Your body under mine, your skin so soft, your form so pretty... This feels like a dream, right now... I might have to pinch myself to make sure this is really happening."
Her body twitched by reflex when she felt his murmurs on her skin, goosebumps spreading over the surface of her body as a result. Yet, they felt so incredibly good: hearing him compliment her, compliment her body in such a passionate and heartfelt way made her feel desired and desirable. It showed her how much he truly loved her.
"This is real, Dick... As real as my feelings for you." She softly said with a sigh, resting one of her hands on the back of his head, her fingertips gently brushing his hair.
Leaning toward her face, just as covered in blush as his, his lips drew a faint, though loving smile.
"I know you know by now, but I think I still need to say that I love you."
His voice was hoarse and shaken, and with good reason.
"And I love you so damn much... Every single part of you." He whispered against her lips. "And I can't believe I finally get to do this with you tonight..."
His words left her holding her breath, his voice dripping with sensuality and desire. He no longer seemed like the clumsy and confused detective she had been used to knowing: now, in that bed with her, his flesh against hers, he was a confident and assertive man, and that only further fueled her craving for him.
Unable to articulate words in response, she simply stared into his eyes. And when she did, she read his emotions clearly. No more doubts. No more second thoughts.
"... [Y/N], I want to feel you." He spoke, his voice quiet, but strong.
Holding his face with both hands, she left a delicate kiss on his lips.
Summary: On most days, [Y/N] knows she can count on her best friend Maya to come through for her, whatever it is she needs help with, through whatever means necessary… and it would seem that includes pushing her to confess her awkward feelings to Dick.
Chronology: Any game.
~~~~~~~~~~
With a deep, heavy nose exhale, I grabbed the knob and turned it, opening the door to the office wide; I was tired, both emotionally and physically, and all I wanted at that instant, all I needed was the comfort of Phoenix's sofa. But as I silently made my way through the room, I noticed Maya was there, sitting in the very center of the couch, a hamburger in her hands.
"Oh, hey Maya." I said with a weakened smile as I turned to her.
"Hi, [Y/N]!" She exclaimed in return. "Hey, you look kinda sad... You want some of my burger? I bet that'll cheer you right up!"
"Heh, that's nice of you to offer, but no, thank you." I replied with a slow head shake, still smiling. "A few burger bites honestly aren't enough to bring my mood back up right now... I'd rather let you savor it all."
I looked down at her for a second before I gestured with my head slightly, pointing to her body with my chin.
"But, do you think I could join you on the sofa? I'm dying to rest up."
"Sure." She answered with a nod and a smile.
She proceeded to scoot over to the side a little, to make more room for me.
"Now, sit down! You can't expect me to leave my best friend standing all alone like that!"
"You're so sweet, cutie." I told her with a genuinely affectionate smile, her sheer and simple presence enough to already make me feel slightly better. "But, actually, you didn't have to move. I was thinking I'd lie down over you, if you don't mind that. That lap of yours looks real comfy and I was hoping I could rest my head there."
I took the time to ask her, but I already knew what her answer would be: Maya and I were very close friends who never feared sharing things with one another, including physical proximity, as we were both fond of hugs and never bothered by PDA.
"Ohoho... Is someone getting touchy?" She said teasingly with a sly grin. "But seriously, yeah, come on in, get comfy. I was actually expecting you to say that, considering how down you seem to be. I'll even cuddle with you if you want, since you're so cute."
Maya started to shift a bit, turning herself to the side to leave me more space to lie down on her lap comfortably.
"Thanks, you really are the best best friend anyone could have." I told her as I walked closer to the couch.
I lay down across the seats, my legs dangling over one of the armrests a little as the back of my head found Maya's lap: upon feeling it slowly sink into her warm legs, I closed my eyes and sighed out of relaxation.
"This feels good... Your lap always feels so relaxing..." I said softly. "I didn't expect to see you here at the office when I decided to head in, but I'm actually so glad you are. I kinda need comfort right about now, and I know for a fact your comfort is the best I could have hoped for."
Maya smirked as she bit into her hamburger, before she smiled warmly.
"You're welcome, cutie pie." She said in a soft, comforting tone. "I'm always glad to provide, it's the least I can do for my favorite girl in the world. But... why the sad face, though? You can tell me if something's happened."
I opened my eyes upon hearing her question, then gently sighed once more.
"Well... Can I tell you a secret?" I asked her as I looked up at her face above me.
She paused briefly, her mouth full of hamburger and her eyebrows raised; there was an expression of curiosity on her face as she looked right down at me.
"Of course, what's on your mind?" She asked me in return, an adorable smile on her face.
I kept quiet for a moment, lying still on my back as my eyes turned to the white ceiling high above my head, my gaze lost in nothingness.
"... I have feelings for Detective Gumshoe." I bluntly confessed in one breath, finally breaking the silence in the room.
Maya's head jolted back in genuine surprise as I revealed my secret.
"Gumshoe!?" She exclaimed with her mouth wide open in disbelief, almost dropping her hamburger in the process. "Why, you never said a thing!"
The young girl tried her best to calm down, though she could barely manage to control herself.
"Wait, does Gumshoe know?" She suddenly asked.
"No, no, of course he doesn't, no, that's precisely what the problem is, Maya..." I muttered as I covered my face with both of my hands. "That man is so dense, there's no way on Earth he could ever know simply from the way I behave around him, he doesn't pick up on anything... But at the same time, I'm not brave enough to be straightforward and tell him how I feel..."
I moved my fingers away from my mouth but kept them on my cheeks, which were now pink with blush.
"... So no, he doesn't know." I said with a sigh. "He probably doesn't have a single clue about how both my mind and my body get all tense when he's around me..."
Maya's mouth dropped open even more as I described my love story, and then she started to giggle.
"Oh, [Y/N]... This is priceless, really..." She said with a smile, her body shaking a little. "And I don't mean to laugh, but Gumshoe, of all people? Why him? Isn't he really dull-witted and clumsy?"
"Maya, please..." I said in an ashamed tone, my palms still covering my blushing cheeks. "I know it's true, but you don't have to state things like that..."
I finally removed my hands from my face, allowing me to open my eyes and look back up at Maya, a teasing grin on her face mixed with an expression of genuine confusion.
"Yes, Gumshoe is a little goofy... A little stupid at times, even... and he can be a bit of a mess, sometimes... but I love him, for who he is." I said sincerely. "I love him for his kindness, for his honesty, for his optimism, for his cheerfulness, for his generosity, for his silly humor, for his cute laugh, for his precious smile, and for—... well, for his physique, too..."
Maya chuckled and looked away as she tried not to laugh even harder.
"What do you mean, 'for his physique, too'?" She asked, her curiosity clearly getting the better of her. "Do you mean that you think he's hot and sexy?"
Her voice was progressively getting higher- and higher-pitched the longer she talked.
"Ohoho! [Y/N], is my best friend a pervert!?" She exclaimed teasingly.
"N-No I'm not— Shut up, Maya—" I stuttered slightly out of embarrassment.
I moved on her lap and turned my body to the side, my face now close to her stomach as I closed my eyes shut; for a few seconds, I did not say a word, the only sound in the room that of Maya giggling while she finished her hamburger.
"... He is hot and sexy... I don't just think it." I eventually said in a whisper as I pouted. "He's strong and muscular, with broad shoulders, a wide chest, toned legs, big hands, a square jaw, arms that must feel so warm to be into..."
"And I bet you're already picturing those hands on your body, aren't ya, you sneaky girl?" Maya teased me as she kept laughing. "And what about those big muscles of his? Do you already imagine him carrying you in his arms like a prince carrying a princess in those old Disney movies? And that broad chest, can you imagine your head resting right on top of those big pecs, [Y/N]? What a wonderful place to be, isn't it?"
I felt my entire body overheat as I curled up into a ball on her lap, my face growing entirely red from embarrassment and shame.
"M-Maya!" I awkwardly exclaimed while I turned around, restless.
But no matter how much I would protest, the truth was that she was right: my mind was filled with images of Dick, images I had already envisioned countless times before, images that were practically stored inside my brain.
"Hahaha! I bet you imagine all these things every time you see him!" Maya exclaimed as she kept on teasing me with a mischievous grin.
With her hamburger now finished and her hands free, she raised her arm and used her right index finger to poke my cheek, making me blush more in the process.
"And I bet you can imagine feeling those big, strong muscles of his hugging your body from the rear, and feeling his powerful, manly hands groping you in just the right places, as he whispers all kinds of steamy, naughty words right in your ear..."
I listened to her words without uttering a single one of my own, my embarrassment and racing thoughts preventing me from forming sentences; and as the pictures she painted in my mind became more and more suggestive, I simply could not help but feel a tingling sensation all over my body, my imagination running wild with lewd images.
"Ahaa, what's this?" Maya asked after noticing my reaction. "Could it be you like the way that sounds? That's not so bad, [Y/N], I won't judge... After all, what kind of girl wouldn't feel giddy at the thought of being caressed like that? What a naughty girl you are..."
She let out a giggle and raised her hand, poking me once again.
"Well, you should probably try to forget all this naughty stuff, or else you'll get too excited..." She said as she started to calm down a little. "How about we go back to talking about normal things, hm?"
"... Yes, please..." I replied in a quiet voice still filled with embarrassment. "Normal things..."
I progressively removed my hands from my face completely, revealing to Maya how much I was blushing and how awkward the look in my eyes was. I stared up at her smiling face, her expression playful and her eyes sparkling.
"I'm sorry for being all... like that." I started as I slightly motioned with my hands. "It's just... I can't help it, y'know? Gumshoe does that to me, and it's kind of a hard feeling to fight..."
"Don't feel bad, [Y/N]!" Maya exclaimed, her tone swaying between sincerity and amusement. "I mean, I can't blame you. Gumshoe is hot in his own way... I guess...? He may not have any brains, but he's totally a hunky, sexy man, especially as a detective, with that stylish trenchcoat of his."
"Hey, what have I told you about making comments about his intellect?" I said with a pout as my eyebrows furrowed. "Don't talk about him like he's a complete moron with no brain cells whatsoever, that's just mean and such an exaggeration... Besides, I've told you, I'm not just attracted to his body— I mean, yes, I do find him handsome, but there's so much more than just that, I love him as a human being, for everything that he is... y'know?"
"Alright, alright, I get it, he's your true love, your knight in shining armor, you'll always love him, you'll die for him, yadda yadda yadda..." She said sarcastically. "But then, why haven't you told him how you really feel yet? You said it yourself, he's totally incapable of recognizing the signs you give him... So why not simply say the big words out loud?"
"You say 'simply', but it's really far from simple, Maya..." I told her while I lowered my eyes.
I watched my hands gently fidget with my fingers as I took a deep breath, feelings of uncertainty and sorrow invading my mind from within.
"... I'm too scared to tell him I love him... too scared of rejection." I admitted with a sigh. "If I confess to him and he doesn't reciprocate my feelings— Which I'm sure is what would happen, our friendship would be completely ruined... and it'd make working with him a real pain in the ass, since we would both be really awkward around each other from that point on..."
"C'mon, [Y/N], you two are already really good friends, so even if he does reject you, I'm sure nothing would change in your relationship." She said with a smile, trying to be reassuring. "But seriously... I refuse to believe he doesn't like you back, even if just a little. Are you really telling me there isn't even a single sign that he's into you? I mean, I see the way he looks at you, the way he talks to you... I see the way you two act around each other. So I'd say there's definitely some chemistry there!"
"He has chemistry with everyone, Maya... in one way or another." I started in a quiet voice, my cheeks slightly rosy. "I've never really noticed any difference in the way he looks at me compared to how he looks at everyone else... He's kind to everyone, it's just in his genes."
I continued to stare at my hands, at my fingers twisting around each other as I felt the blush on my cheeks intensify.
"... Though, I'll admit, when it comes to working criminal cases, he tends to agree to share information with me more easily than with you or Phoenix, even though I'm also part of the defense..." I said in a shy tone. "But I'm sure he has his own reasons..."
"Maybe he only shares information with you because he's more comfortable around you... or maybe because he knows you'll keep it all to yourself, while if he told Nick, he'd probably blab that to everyone in five seconds." She said jokingly. "But seriously, [Y/N]... He's always hanging around you, even outside of work, and he always acts very gentlemanly towards you, you can even see in his eyes that he cares about you. Do you truly not think there's something there?"
For a moment, silence came to settle in the office, neither of us saying a word, until I breathed a heavy sigh and brought my hands back to my face.
"Ughhh... I just don't know..." I let out in a desperate tone.
As I lay with my head still resting on Maya's lap, I closed my eyes and sought refuge in my mind, going back to being silent for a few more seconds.
"... You know, Maya, you're my best friend, and I adore you." I spoke up suddenly. "But right about now, I just wish I—"
I cut my sentence short upon feeling shyness and embarrassment take over me, my eyes widening while my skin reddened.
"... I just wish I could be lying on his lap..." I admitted with shame.
For a moment, Maya did not say anything in return, leaving the room quiet, and leaving me to wonder whether I had maybe said too much; or, worse, offended my best friend in some way.
"... Well, who says we can't make that happen?" She suddenly said in a surprisingly enthusiastic tone.
Her rhetorical question made me remove my hands from my face, and when I looked up at hers, I could see somewhat of a mischievous smile shaping her lips, her fists on her hips: I knew her well enough to know she had something in mind.
"What do you mean?" I inquired with a hint of suspicion.
"I mean, what if..."
She let the end of her question hang in the air for suspense while she reached for something inside her kimono, which turned out to be her phone.
"... I was to give Gumshoe a little call and get him to come here to the office right now?" She finished with a smirk, not even waiting for my response to start pressing buttons on her phone.
"M-Maya, no, wait—" I mumbled as I tried reaching for her hands.
But I was too slow for her: by the time I had already risen on the sofa from my lying position, Maya had already finished dialing Dick's number and brought the phone up to her right ear, a wide smile displayed on her face as she stared at me.
"... Detective Gumshoe? Yes, it's Maya Fey!" She exclaimed. "Hey, listen, I know it's kinda outta nowhere, but I was wondering if you'd be interested in swinging by Phoenix's office at the agency to... discuss the current case we're all working on! I mean, why not, right?"
It was clear as day, by the look on her face that she was enjoying herself, enjoying playing with my emotions as I watched, powerless.
"... Oh, it's going to be your lunch break right now? Well... you're in luck! 'Cause there's food here, plenty enough for you... food you wouldn't have to pay for... free food..."
After a second or two, she slightly pushed the phone away from her ear and leaned closer to me.
"He's thinking about it..." She whispered with a nod.
But before she could give him any time to actually consider the offer, she placed the phone back against her ear and cleared her throat.
"Oh, and... [Y/N]'s here with me, too." She said as she sent me a teasing wink. "... You'll come? Awesome! See you in a bit then! Bye!"
And with that, she hung up and stuffed her phone back inside her kimono, her lips pursed into a proud grin.
"... Maya, what have you done?" I said as I covered my face with my palms, my entire face red with embarrassment.
"I've done wonders." She replied, still grinning widely. "I've gotten you some nice quality time with your favorite detective."
An awkward silence permeated the room for a few seconds, until she turned to me and sighed with exaggerated exasperation.
"Oh, c'mon! What's wrong? You wanted him, didn't you?" She asked playfully, though with an ounce of seriousness.
"But after everything you and I said... After all the teasing you've made me sit through... I'm not gonna be able to look at him without... without blushing like a mess and stumbling on my words!" I exclaimed with shame. "I'm not gonna be able to talk to him without thinking of... and picturing all the dirty things you told me..."
"Is that such a bad thing?" She asked with a mischievous smile. "You're cute when you blush, and I'm sure you could use all that sweet awkwardness to your advantage..."
"Besides, you lied to him!" I continued without acknowledging her comments. "You told him we have food for lunch here, but we don't! We've got nothing to eat at the office!"
The two of us looked into each other's eyes as we both remained silent, Maya blinking a few times.
"... Shoot, you're right." She said in a slightly panicked tone.
She had barely finished speaking when she got up from the sofa and sprung on her feet, making her way to the door and out of the office.
"Well, I'm off to buy all three of us lunch, then!" She declared enthusiastically.
"You? Buy? With what money?"
"Yours." She answered with a wink as she pulled a wallet out of her kimono.
A wallet that looked suspiciously like mine.
"Hey, wait a minute!" I exclaimed as I frantically searched my pockets. "How did you—"
But before I could even finish my sentence, Maya had already walked out of the room and closed the door behind her, leaving me alone in the office.
"Maya, c'mon!" I called out to her, though I knew she was already too far gone to hear me. "Don't just leave me here on my own!"
And yet, there I was.
After a solid minute of solitude, my phone buzzed and on the screen appeared a text from my supposed best friend.
I closed my eyes and sighed heavily as I finished reading her series of texts.
"Goddamn it Maya..." I whispered to myself.
There was nothing I could do but wait; wait for her to come back, wait for Dick to arrive, wait for the stress to build up inside me. So, that was what I did. Reluctantly, I set my phone down beside me on the sofa and adjusted my body so that my side was against the right armrest. And I waited. In silence. My patience growing thinner and thinner with each minute passing. More and more thoughts flooding my mind as what felt like an eternity went by.
Until a knock on the door broke the silence oppressing me, a singular knock that both ended my misery and made it ten times worse.
There's no way this is Maya... I thought to myself. I haven't really kept track of time since she left, but it definitely hasn't been 30 minutes...
Before I had time to even turn around, the knock was quickly followed by the sound of the door opening wide, and my heart rate picked up at light speed.
"Heya, pals!" Dick's voice echoed behind me, his tone as enthusiastic as always.
"Good afternoon, Detective." I said with much less eagerness than him, my smile forced and my cheeks pink.
As he made his way to the center of the room, his eyes looked down at me and his brow furrowed.
"Maya's not here?" He asked with his head slightly tilted.
"Well— She's the one who called you earlier, and as you can probably see, there's also no food here..." I started in an awkward tone. "She promised you food for lunch but the truth is, she's on her way to go buy us food right now... So we just have to wait for her to come back..."
A short moment of silence settled between the two of us, and I was utterly too embarrassed to bring myself to look into his eyes.
"Oh... Alright then." He simply said.
"Sorry..." I let out in a soft whisper.
"Hey now, there's no need for ya to apologize, pal." He told me in an attempt to comfort me. "I can wait for her to come back, I don't mind. We'll be keeping each other company in the meantime, hm?"
I watched his lips shape into a warm smile as he buried his hands in the pockets of his trenchcoat, my gaze shy and as discreet as could be.
"And we can always start discussing the case without her, y'know? If anything that'd prolly be better, there are some things too confidential for her to know..."
He reached for the back of his head with his right hand as he chuckled, a low, affectionate chuckle that almost made me hold my breath.
"So anyway, don't sweat it out, alright, pal?" He said reassuringly.
"... Yeah..." I replied timidly with a slight nod. "... Thanks."
While still smiling, Dick approached the sofa opposite the one I was sitting on; the sofa whose existence I had quite frankly completely forgotten about since I had entered the office. And, somehow, seeing him not sit beside me, body against body, thigh against thigh, so close to each other on a single couch filled me to the brim with both relief and frustration.
"Now then, the case..." He started as he rested his back against the sofa. "Who's that second witness you and Wright paid a visit to yesterday, again?"
He asked me his question nonchalantly, as if completely unbothered by my reaction he seemingly did not pick up on, by my thoughts he thankfully did not have access to.
"Oh, right, you weren't there yesterday when we met up with him because it was so late in the evening." I said almost as to remind myself. "Well, Phoenix told me he'd let you know a few things about him and how our interrogation went, but knowing him and his dedication to the whole defense versus prosecution quarrel, I bet he hasn't actually told you much."
"He most certainly hasn't." He responded with a chuckle. "He did drop by the precinct this morning, but he didn't mention it to me at all, actually."
With his legs slightly spread apart, each of his hands rested atop his knees, his palms hugging the fabric of his pants and his fingers relaxed.
"Not even a single mention?" I asked with a hint of surprise. "Maybe he simply forgot altogether, most things tend to slip his mind these days... Well, in any case, the witness had—"
I suddenly cut myself short, words no longer capable of slipping through my lips, as my eyes inexplicably went back to looking at his hands, as if on their own, as if out of instinct. And now that they had seen his hands, they were all I could see, all I could think of: his big, strong, manly hands, as Maya had described them to me. And the things she had said to tease me came back to haunt me.
I shifted on the sofa as I tried to look away, feeling my cheeks redden from the thought of Dick's hands on my body, feeling me up and down sensually, a thought that now clouded all others.
"Hum, s-so, Phoenix and I went to the, uh, crime scene yesterday... evening... a-and we saw the witness on the way, since he works there... but, um, you already k-know that..." I started as I awkwardly tumbled and stumbled on all of my words. "He's, hum, the victim's brother... y-younger brother..."
I had more to say, but all I could do at that moment was continue to stare at his hands on his lap as I prayed to God he would not notice what my eyes were looking at.
"Hm... Interesting." He said while nodding, showing no signs whatsoever of having picked up on my behavior, which was for the better, considering the situation. "So what about him?"
"W-Well..."
I took a short moment to clear my throat in an attempt to put a stop to my stammering, though the task seemed arduous, given the thoughts that were floating through my head.
"As you already know, he, hum, first showed up out of the blue during the first day of the trial, and his appearance and testimony are... actually what led to it being extended to another day. So, as you can probably imagine, Phoenix and I had some questions to ask him regarding what he possibly knows about the case as a whole. But, well... he wasn't actually all that, uh, cooperative, and he was very vague with his answers... We both think it's... kind of suspicious."
"So lemme get this straight..." He started as he tilted his head to the side, a focused expression in his eyes. "He was suspicious during his first testimony, right? As in, he was hiding stuff? And now you're tellin' me he still acted shifty during your encounter yesterday, like he still couldn't tell you everything? Yeah, if you ask me, that's not just suspicious, that sounds really damn suspicious."
"And that's not all." I started as I got up from the sofa. "Yesterday, after we were done interrogating him, he gave us something before leaving, a piece of evidence that should supposedly help us in our investigation... according to him."
As I said those words, I made my way to Phoenix's desk in one corner of the room, going around it to access the drawers; pulling open the top one, I extracted from it a thin security bag containing said evidence.
"But if you ask me, I think it's actually a red herring." I added as I stared down at the object in my hands. "I don't know why, and I can't explain why, but I just have a feeling he's trying to throw us off by giving us this..."
"And just what exactly is this 'piece of evidence' he gave ya?" He asked me while tilting his head, remaining seated on the couch but turning around to look at me. "And what's your reason exactly to be so skeptical about it?"
"See for yourself." I answered as I walked back to him, back to the two sofas, the bag in hand.
Once standing in front of him, I opened my palm and revealed to his eyes the evidence that was a locket necklace. But as he reached for it, as his fingers touched the plastic, both my body and my mind suddenly froze.
Oh no. Not again.
Just as I had finally managed to rid my brain of any thoughts involving Dick's hands, my eyes were now looking down at every other part of him: his right arm, raised towards me, his muscles concealed by his clothes yet still somewhat discernible, his large torso, slowly rising and falling with each breath he took, his legs, slightly spread open, not enough to be inappropriate but still enough for my thoughts to run wild, and that look on his face, that stare in his eyes.
And there I stood. In front of him. Motionless. Flushed. Silent. Still holding onto one end of the evidence bag, despite his fingers holding onto the other.
"... Hum, ya alright pal?" He asked me with a slight chuckle, one that expressed both amusement and confusion.
While his gaze never left mine for even a second, he seemed to not be perceiving what was happening between the two of us, and that, frankly, was for the better; but when he eventually took notice of how much I was blushing, his smile turned into a frown.
"Wait, you're not sick or somethin', are you?" He now asked me with audible concern. "You're lookin' a lil too beet red for it to just be room temperature..."
With that remark, I finally snapped back to reality and gulped before clearing my throat.
"N-No— I'm... I'm fine... don't worry." I struggled to say as I shook my head.
Without looking into his eyes, my head turned to the side, I let go of the evidence bag, leaving it in Dick's hand.
"I-It's probably just the hunger getting to me..." I said in an attempt to save myself.
This is so embarrassing. I thought to myself as I closed my eyes. Our interactions sometimes happen to be awkward, most of the time due to how flustered I can get around him, but this... this is just plain pathetic, I'm making such a fool of myself...
"Ha, I know the feeling, pal!"
While my eyes were still closed, I suddenly felt both of his hands land on my shoulders, which prompted me to quickly turn my gaze back to him.
"I know you're impatiently waiting for Maya to return with our food, but you gotta hang in there, [Y/N]." He told me with a beaming smile, a sparkle in his eyes. "I'd hate to see you starve on my watch."
I felt my body temperature rise exponentially as his hands gripped my shoulders without too much pressure, though enough to hold me in place; as I looked back into his eyes, my heart beating so furiously in my chest it hurt.
"I mean, can you imagine the amount of paperwork I'd have to fill to report a dead pal on duty?" He jokingly said while laughing.
"Haha... ha... yeah..." I let out as I awkwardly forced myself to laugh with him. "B-But seriously, Gumshoe, I'm alright... thanks for worrying about me, t-though..."
It was still incredibly hard for me to look him in the eyes when all I could think about were his hands on my shoulders: so hard, in fact, I had to divert my eyes slightly, and my gaze fell upon the evidence bag he had set down to his left on the sofa. Without a word, he stared at me for a moment, his eyes partially squinted and his head ever so slightly tilted, as if analyzing my behavior, as if he did not fully believe me.
"Hmm... You say that, but it don't change the fact you're still lookin' a little red..." He said with lingering concern.
Another moment of silence ensued, during which he was visibly deep in thought, the turning gears of his mind almost visible to the naked eye; until a gentle smile then appeared on his face after a minute or so, his eyes still locked into mine.
"... Y'know what, pal? I think you should probably sit down." He told me with a soft nod while he patted the seat on the couch to his right. "Even if ya say you're fine and all that, I'd say you still need to take a seat. You really look like you could use it, honestly."
My eyes opened wide right then and there; something Dick must have surely interpreted as yet another sign of my "sicken" state. In fact, I could feel that redness on my face he had mentioned intensify as I quickly raked my brain for something to say in response, a slight sense of panic growing inside me.
I can't sit next to him— I just can't do it— But it's not like I've never done it before- I mean, c'mon it's literally just sitting down beside him— I've sat next to him before, a shit ton of times— How is that hard? How is now any different? Except it is different— All I can think about right now is my discussion with Maya and my feelings for him—
But before I could utter even a single word in protest, I felt his remaining hand on my right shoulder strengthen its grasp, as if trying to move my body.
"C'mon, come here!"
Upon hearing these enthusiastically spoken words, I suddenly felt my upper body be pulled down and towards him: somehow, with the strength of only one hand, he was able to bring me close to him, guiding me to his right on the sofa. Flushed and speechless, I let him sit me down without a glance or a word.
"There ya go, [Y/N]." He said with a warm smile I caught in the corner of my eye while his left hand finally let go of my shoulder now that we were side by side.
His body was now right beside mine, his presence overwhelming on the couch that seemed oddly small all of a sudden, as if it had not been made for a man of his physique, his broad stature taking up all the space around me.
And still, I remained silent, unable to find anything to say. I was no longer hesitating between these mixed feelings of frustration and relief from earlier: now that it had been done, now that I was sitting next to him, I knew relief was what I should have felt. Because there now was nothing I could do, nothing I could feel but my heart pounding in my chest louder than a hundred drums combined.
"... So!" He suddenly spoke up amidst the quietness as he turned to his left and picked the security bag back up. "I don't believe you actually told me what this new piece of evidence is about, pal."
The sound of his voice reached my ears and finally snapped me back to reality, back to the topic at hand, back to the investigation I had completely forgotten about for a moment.
"Oh, hum, right—" I started embarrassingly as I cleared my throat gently. "Sorry about all that..."
I shifted in my seat a little as I finally found the courage to turn my head to him, although my eyes stopped at his hand before they could reach his face.
"So, as I told you, the witness gave this to Phoenix and me yesterday, supposedly because it's linked to the case... The thing is, all he was willing to tell us was that it belonged to his sister. Other than that, we have no idea what its connection to the case is exactly or where he got it. Did he pick it up off her corpse? Or did he find it in her personal belongings? Who knows?"
"I see..." He simply said to both me and himself as he opened the bag and pulled the locket out of it. "If he just gave it to you without any context or explanation, it's fair you think it's suspicious."
"And that's not all." I added as I pointed at the necklace with my right index finger. "The weirdest part is that the locket, while clearly meant to hold a picture, is actually empty... As if whatever was once contained in it had been taken out... for whatever reason."
"Yeah, that's for certain." I said in agreement as I sighed. "But what exactly... That I do not know. And neither does Phoenix."
With yet another sigh, I closed my eyes and let my head fall backward, leaving it on the headrest of the sofa, my neck outstretched.
"... God, I'm stumped." I let out in a defeated voice, my eyes still closed. "I hate this feeling of hitting a dead end... especially with a case like this one. I hate to say it because we've only been investigating it for a short while, but I can't wait for it to end already..."
"Mhm... It's only been a few days, pal... Give us some time and we'll solve this case in a jiffy." I heard him say in a soft and confident tone. "I wouldn't worry about a dead end, we got our minds and our hearts set on figuring this one out, and I just know we'll get there eventually. And we'll do it together... Trust me on this one, pal."
I listened to him, to the sound of his calming voice, of his reassuring and comforting words erasing my doubts and uncertainty, while his kindness made my heart beat just a little faster.
Despite starting to grow physically tired, I opened my eyes and turned my head to my left, my neck still resting against the sofa, and looked up at Dick's face: as if telepathically, he mirrored my movements and his eyes stared into mine.
"... Thank you, Dick." I said with sincerity and affection, and only a tinge of shyness. "Really."
"No problem, pal." The detective responded with a chuckle as he shifted his body ever so slightly closer to mine on the couch, his voice carrying a hint of tenderness that matched the look in his eyes. "But you don't gotta thank me, I'm only doin' my duty as your friend... That's what I'm here for."
I lost myself in his smile, warm and soothing, and I knew right then and there it was the moment.
Now's the time. I have to make a move. The conversation is slowly developing away from the topic of the case... I have the perfect opening.
With a quiet gulp, my gaze still intertwined with his, my heart picking up the pace, I scooted closer to him myself.
I'm sick of being shy: I know he's often blind to most of my advances, but there comes a point when I simply have to make him see things clearly... and it would seem I've just reached it.
With that thought in mind and no spoken words, I closed my eyes and let my head gently fall on his right shoulder, the fabric of his trench coat coming in soft contact with my hair.
Even though I had no way of seeing his expression on his face, I could still perceive his reaction to my gesture; I felt his body jolt lightly and his limbs stiffen upon placing my head against his shoulder, at the same time as a gentle, almost inaudible gasp slipped through his lips and reached my ears.
Although I may have seemed nonchalant and collected on the outside, my heart kept skipping beats inside my chest, the heat emanating from his body making me lightheaded. And I could also hear his, both of our hearts thumping in synchronization, both of our breathing steadily increasing in intensity.
"... Um... [Y/N]?" He suddenly spoke up in a slightly trembling and quiet voice, as if he did not want to ruin that moment of intimacy.
"Do... Do you mind?" I asked him just as quietly, trying as best as I could to sound confident in my actions despite my transpiring apprehension.
"U-Um... No... not at all..." He answered nervously, not making any effort to try and hide the stress in his voice. "I j-just... I didn't expect it..."
"Sorry..." I said with a gentle, awkward chuckle. "I didn't mean to startle you... I'm just... really tired."
Slowly, I opened my eyes and stared down at Dick's lower body, at his legs on the sofa, his hands resting on his lap.
"As you know, it was pretty late in the evening yesterday when I accompanied Phoenix to the crime scene... and even later when I got back home. I couldn't fall asleep until late, and this morning I had to get up early... so I haven't had much sleep, to be honest with you. So... I'm feeling a little exhausted... and I suppose I kind of wanted a pillow for my head."
"Oh... R-Right." He said in return, slightly stuttering. "And I s'pose you thought I'd make a comfortable pillow... right?"
"W-Well, you're the only other person here..." I replied with a hint of embarrassment. "... And... you really are comfortable, Dick... your shoulder feels really warm and soft, actually..."
"R-Really?" He asked with an awkward chuckle of his own. "I'm flattered... pal."
I smiled to myself; a smile he could not see, but which I was sure would have been a pleasing sight for his eyes.
For a brief moment, silence reigned between us, neither of us saying a word nor making a sound. I closed my eyes again, savoring that moment with every fiber of my being, until I opened them back and cleared my throat gently.
"Dick, is it... is it okay if I..."
Without bothering to even finish my question, I subtly snuggled closer to him and grabbed his right arm with both of mine, wrapping them around his limb while my head remained on his shoulder.
Once again, I could feel his entire body stiffen as I moved closer to him and wrapped my hands around his arm, along with his breathing audibly quickening.
"Y-Yeah... You can, [Y/N]..." He said in a soft and quiet voice, not even trying to mask the nervousness he was feeling.
"Are you sure?" I anxiously asked him as I began to loosen my grip on his arm, sensing the hesitation in his tone. "I can let go if you're uncomfortable... if you don't want me... this close to you."
"N-No!" He promptly exclaimed. "Um, I mean— It's... It's fine, I don't really mind..."
I heard him take a deep breath above my head before I saw his left hand fidget on his lap.
"I don't really know how I'm supposed to say this, [Y/N], or even if I should say it, but... I kinda like it, actually..."
I held my breath for a moment, feeling my chest stop rising as the realization hit me that maybe, just maybe, his feelings were not so far from mine after all.
"... You do?" I softly asked him while I strengthened my grasp around his arm.
"Y-Yeah... I do, [Y/N]..." He confessed. "You feel nice on my shoulder, and... I dunno, I just feel like... There's something nice and comforting between us, something that just feels right, y'know? And... I just like it... I like feeling this comfort with you."
"Dick..." I whispered to myself under my breath.
I needed to take a moment to process his words, to let my mind quiet down and my body cool off after having heard him say such wholesome and beautiful things, things I had never thought I would have ever heard him say.
And once I had gotten a bit calmer, I pressed my cheek against his shoulder and gulped quietly.
"... Why haven't you ever said anything before, then?" I asked, my tone bittersweet.
"What... What do you mean?"
Letting go of his right arm just ever so slightly, I raised my head from his shoulder and turned to him: this time, without an ounce of hesitation, I stared up into his hazel eyes and did not back down.
"This isn't the first time... something like this has happened, Dick. I mean, sure, yes, we've never... really been this close to one another before... but I've sat close to you, I've... touched your arms, your hands, I've spoken softly to you. I've complimented you, too, tons of times... whether mentally or physically. And yet..."
Feeling my cheeks redden the longer I spoke, I paused to take a breath, though without looking away from his face.
"... Yet today is the first and only day you're actually expressing yourself in return..."
"Because I'm an idiot, okay?" He almost immediately responded, his voice no longer as light and soft, now carrying a heavy sense of resentment and frustration towards himself. "I've been too... dense, blind, and stupid to really pick up on any of these things."
"Don't say that." I promptly told him as I tugged at his arm tighter, a frown covering my lips while my eyebrows furrowed. "Please, Dick, don't say such things... You're not an idiot, you're not stupid..."
I slowly shook my head as I spoke, desperately hoping for him to look back into my eyes, his gaze now avoiding mine.
"I don't blame you, for not having said anything before, I'm not angry."
While my left hand still held his arm in place, the other slowly went up his sleeve, making its way to his shoulder.
"And that's because I know you. I know the man you are, a man who... doesn't always feel comfortable sharing his emotions and expressing his feelings. You're not the type to say things, you do them. You don't voice your affection... you tend to show it instead."
For a moment, he did not answer; but while his gaze was still avoiding mine, I finally saw his expression soften, the frustration and self-resentment now long gone from his face.
"... Are ya tryin' to make me cry?" He asked softly, a hint of humor to his tone.
"No— No, please don't cry." I answered in a pleading voice with an affectionate smile. "That'd be the last thing I'd want to see right now..."
I stopped my right hand just below his shoulder, my palm against the sleeve of his trench coat, sensing my heartbeat quicken as I felt his muscles underneath.
"... All I'm trying to do is understand why today is different. Why... why you've never shown much before and even less so said anything before... while you're being more open with me today than you've ever been before..."
And along with the pounding in my chest came the red hue on my face.
"Oh— Don't get me wrong, I'm not... I'm not complaining... not in the slightest." I continued, more shyly. "But... hearing you say there's something nice between us and that you like feeling this comfort with me... I never thought I'd ever get to hear you say such things."
"Well... To be honest, I'm kinda surprised myself I've even had the guts to say all this stuff out loud just then..." He confessed with a tender chuckle and a brief shrug. "Especially since... there's always so much going through my mind when I'm around you and especially right now, like, a ton more things I'm thinking about..."
"Things like what?" I softly asked him as I stared at his face, admiring his features.
"Things like how cute your face looks right now with that blush on your cheeks... How soft your hair feels... How comfortable it feels to rest my arm alongside yours... How badly I wanna get even closer to you and wrap my arms 'round you and hold you real tight... How much I wanna kiss you... Things I really should just shut up about, actually—" He blurted out, the words coming out of his mouth quicker than he intended them to.
I fell utterly silent, my eyes wide open, my lips slightly parted, my face flushed, my chest no longer moving as I had started holding my breath altogether; I could think of nothing to say, my mind a complete blur as Dick's words sent my brain into overdrive, leaving me too stunned and shy to even move.
Eventually, seeing I was not reacting at all, he finally turned his head to me and stared back at me. And as my eyes met his, I could read in them a sweetness, a profound sincerity: just what I needed to clear the fog over my thoughts.
Not without apprehension and one deep gulp, I inched my right hand up to his shoulder at last and leaned ever so closer to him, our faces only a few inches away from one another.
"... Why don't you?" I asked him in a murmur, in a tone that came out much more sensual than I would have liked. "Do all these things you want to do so bad, I mean..."
He looked back at me for a moment, silent, seemingly debating mentally on what the best course of action was; once his decision made, his eyes slowly drifted downward to my hand on his shoulder, his gaze intense.
"... Well..." He started confidently, though nervousness could be heard.
Instead of continuing his sentence, he slowly turned on the sofa to face me and reached for my lower body with his arms, wrapping them around my waist and sides, just as he had fantasized.
My pulse skyrocketed and my breath hitched as I felt myself being pulled into his embrace, bringing me ever so closer to him. With the way the two of us were sitting beside each other, I had no choice but to throw my legs up and over his own, leaving them to lie over his lap while both of my hands found their way to his shoulders: the sensation of finding myself in his arms was indescribable, feelings of warmth, comfort, and safety quickly overwhelming me in the best of ways.
And in my eyes, a glimmer of love I could see appear in his.
I saw the spark of affection in his gaze and, although it was somewhat sudden, the smile it brought to my face was genuine and not one I could restrain.
Slowly, the detective squeezed me slightly tighter from around my waist then gently placed his right hand on the back of my head, his thumb starting to tenderly caress my hair; and as he did so, I watched him lean forward with determination, bringing his face right in front of mine, so close I could feel his hot breath on my cheeks.
"[Y/N]..." He murmured as his eyes moved from mine to my mouth.
I felt my breath catch in my throat and closed my eyes shut as I finally found myself entirely enclosed by him. Though I could not see it, I could feel Dick slowly moving his left hand up to my neck, cupping my face with his palm and slightly tilting it; just as much as I could feel him press his lips onto mine, creating a sudden and intense rush of passion within my body, a feeling I never wanted to relinquish.
While still in the dark, I brought one of my hands up to his face, my palm rubbing against the rough skin of his cheek and skin; the other left his shoulder, falling to his chest, my fingers gently scraping his shirt, almost as if they wanted to slither their way through the fabric.
I willingly pulled away from him, but only for a very brief instant, only to let my breath mix with his as our mouths remained an inch apart.
"I love you." I promptly murmured in a heavy pant, my eyes still closed.
And with those three words, I brought my lips back against his.
It seemed as though my sweet words had triggered a reaction in him that pushed him to pull me even tighter into his embrace, the sensations of yearning and desire reaching an all-time high inside both of us. The moment my lips returned to his, I heard a slight groan escape his throat, a sound that excited me to no end, as both of our breathing became a rhythm that seemed to match the beating of our chests.
"I love you, too." He whispered into my lips, his words barely audible.
And I now understood exactly what my confession had triggered in him, as his made me go through the same reaction
The longer it all lasted, the more I wanted of it; his large mouth against mine, his strong hands holding my body, his heavy breath in my ears, his burning touch all over my skin. But we inevitably had to pull away from each other after a short while, giving me the time to catch my breath as I kept my eyes closed, my face still close to his, my body still partly sitting over his on the sofa.
For a moment, we remained that way, the two of us in close proximity while both of our breathing slowed down, until Dick only then released his grasp on me, though he kept one arm loosely around my waist.
"... [Y/N], w-was I... did I act too fast?" He stuttered slightly, awkwardness and nervousness clearly present in his voice. "I-I'm sorry, I couldn't... help myself..."
At last, I opened my eyes upon hearing his apology and was faced with the sight of his other hand holding the nape of his neck, his head slightly down as an expression of guilt and uncertainty invaded his facial features, his thick eyebrows furrowed and his lips frowning.
With a warm smile, my hands returned to his chest and I pressed my palms against his shirt once more as I leaned forward, trying to catch his gaze.
"Hey, hey, why are you sorry?" I asked in an attempt to comfort him. "Dick, that was perfect. The kissing, the embrace, everything. It was all wonderful."
He stared back at me and let out a silent chuckle, his face now displaying relief and tenderness.
"A-Are ya sure?" He asked me softly. "I've, uh, never really done this before, so... so I've no idea if I did things right or not..."
"Yes, I'm sure." I answered him sincerely with a gentle chuckle of my own. "You did things very right, don't worry."
I tilted my head just a little as I brought one of my hands up to his jawline while I stared into his eyes, still smiling.
"Don't you think the same? Did it not feel perfect for you?"
"It did— It felt great... and perfect." He promptly replied, still slightly embarrassed, while his gaze met mine. "But... ya gotta understand, [Y/N]. Being around you all the time, an' being so close to you constantly... i-it makes me feel things, and then my brain gets all stupid around you, and..."
His voice trailed off as his gaze turned downward.
"Hehe, that's alright, I don't mind a little stupid." I teasingly said as I giggled lightly. "I'm flattered to hear I make you 'feel things', Dick... but there's truly no reason for you to be so nervous and awkward around me... especially now. Now that we both know how we feel, there's no need for us to have doubts and hesitate. And I know it's easier said than done, but I'm sure you'll get used to it, and so will your brain."
I could easily tell from his body language that he had needed to hear my affectionate and reassuring words.
"Yeah, you're probably right... I mean, I already know how I feel 'bout you, and now I know how ya feel about me too... There shouldn't really be anything for me to worry about, now should there? I guess I just need to get more confident around you, is all."
"Exactly!" I exclaimed enthusiastically. "Now that's the Dick Gumshoe I know and love."
As I laughed softly, I moved my second hand from his chest, joining the other on his face, both of my palms now lovingly holding both of his cheeks.
"Y'know [Y/N]... I may have to kiss you again right now, just to prove how exactly confident I'm startin' to feel." He joked with his tone now filled with playfulness.
"Hmm... Well, I'm right here." I said with a seductive smile as I leaned even closer to him, my body almost fully on his lap. "Why don't you just go ahead and show me?"
He chuckled warmly as he watched me move closer to him, his gaze wandering down to my lips for a moment before looking right into my eyes once more; he brought his head down again and covered my lips with his, this time not breaking apart until we would both be breathless.
Or, at least, until the door of the office suddenly opened wide, the unexpected sound startling both of us.
"Hey guys, I'm back with our lunch! Sorry it took me so long, hopefully you're not starving, hehe!"
Finding ourselves caught red-handed, the loud bang of the door drove us both to pull away from one another, jolting back from our passionate kiss as we let out a collective gasp.
I promptly turned around on the sofa, my eyes wide open and my cheeks red, only to see a grinning Maya standing in the doorway, her expression both amused and shocked.
"W-Well, this is awkward..." Dick muttered under his breath while he stared at the young girl, his voice filled with embarrassment.
"M-Maya, I—"
"You don't have to say anything, [Y/N]." She cut me off with a smirk. "I see you two have made good use of that nice quality time together..."
With a devilish giggle, she began making her way to us, a plastic bag full of food in her right hand.
"... Although I can't say I'm seeing your head on his lap." She added with a slight pout, as if disappointed. "Oh, but it's alright, you're practically sitting on it, that's good enough."
Upon hearing her teasing remark, I looked down at myself and realized I had indeed not yet moved from my position over Dick's legs: I immediately stopped holding him and slid back into my seat on the couch next to him, my eyes still shy and my face still flushed.
"W-Whatever..."
Watching her approach us and take a seat on the sofa opposite the one we were sitting on, I cleared my throat and turned my attention to the bag in her hand.
"Anyway, tell us what you bought us and let's just eat already." I said in an attempt to alleviate the awkwardness reigning in the air of the room.
Maya chuckled as she set the bag down on the table between the two sofas, her eyes shifting from me to Dick and back to me again, that teasing smile still etched on her lips.
"Nice change of subject there." She answered playfully, obviously still amused by the situation. "... Anyway, don't you worry, I bought plenty of good stuff."
As she said those words, she took various meals, drinks, and snacks from the bag, which she then presented in front of us, allowing us to pick which ones we wished to eat.
"Thanks, Maya." I said sincerely, a gentle smile on my lips. "This all looks really delicious... and, to be honest, I was getting pretty hungry."
Grabbing one of the meals and bringing it closer to me, I then paused: I turned my head to my left and stared into Dick's eyes, before I lovingly smiled at him in silence. And he stared right back.
Despite his expression quickly growing shy, his gaze did not falter from mine as his eyes took in my face, my smile, my red cheeks; all things that now seemed to have so much more meaning to him.
Summary: Swordsmanship may be hard, but managing to express one's feelings is even harder: while [Y/N] has mastered one, Hershel has mastered the other, and it just so happens they complete each other perfectly.
Chronology: Post-Unwound Future/Pre-New World of Steam.
~~~~~~~~~~
"Like... this?"
"Not quite, dear. Strengthen your grip and rotate your wrist slightly."
As I looked at the sword in my hand, I gently sighed.
The Professor always makes it look easy... This is harder than I thought it would be.
Earlier that day, I had come to him with a request: I wished for him to train me in practicing my swordsmanship. The unexpected plea had surprised him at first, but he accepted nonetheless after having heard my explanation; being capable of properly wielding any sword-like weapon had always been a goal of mine, and our situation had convinced me it was the right time for it. The two of us were in the process of solving a mystery, one that had turned our investigation into a perilous adventure, and I wanted to be able to defend myself in case I was soon to be faced with great dangers.
Although he agreed to train me, the Professor opposed the idea of using real swords, especially without wearing adequate equipment, so he instead decided to pay a visit to the antique store of the town we were staying in to borrow a pair of replica swords. And here we were now, at the edge of the woods, each with a sword in hand, facing one another at a short distance.
"Here, let me show you."
As he spoke, Hershel planted his blade into the ground before he approached me; once standing in front of me, he opened his right hand, smiling kindly.
"Do you mind giving me your hand?"
Invaded with a sudden timidity, I sensed my skin redden.
"N-No..."
With my consent, he put his hand over mine and positioned it properly, showing me the correct way to hold my sword: but I was too busy chasing the butterflies in my stomach to truly take in his instructions, my mind solely focused on the feeling of his firm yet soft palm against my skin.
"Your stance also requires improvement." He declared as he leaned closer to me.
Soon, before I even knew it, he was standing right behind me, our right hands still joined, his head only a few inches from mine.
"May I?" He asked in a soft voice.
His breath caressed the nape of my neck, sending shivers down my spine and rendering me even more bashful.
"Y-Yes—" I replied without even knowing which part of my body he wished to hold.
His left hand came in touch with my waist and my heart skipped a beat at the sensation of his gentle though strong grip.
"You need to pivot your body to the left. Like so."
As his calm words slithered into my ears, his hands oriented my body delicately, just as my own began to tremble slightly.
"Your stance is perfect this way." He said with an audible smile. "It's essential you remember it, all right?"
Unable to speak, I silently nodded in response. Hershel removed his hands from my body, which allowed me to finally catch my breath, and I felt the blush on my cheeks linger as I watched him walk back to his spot; pulling his sword out of the ground, he held it firmly in front of him as he stood before me.
"Now, let us begin."
He proceeded to help me practice parrying and attacking, but while I was quick to get a handle on defense, my offensive maneuvers lacked skills: not once did I manage to land a hit on him or even get close enough to him before he could deflect my attacks.
Although slightly out of breath, I refused to give up and launched myself at the Professor, only for him to effortlessly dodge my swing.
"Too slow." He declared as he sidestepped.
In a swift movement, I backed away from him by a few steps, before I lowered my sword to the ground.
"I can't do this, Professor." I stated with a defeated look. "I will never reach your level of mastery..."
Mirroring my body language, he lowered his sword as well: and the second he did so, a smirk appeared on my face.
"[Y/N], you should not—"
But before he could finish his sentence, I suddenly dashed forward and swung my blade at him, an attack he only barely managed to block.
"Leading me to lower my guard in order to take me by surprise... How impressive." He praised me with a smile.
Not letting myself get distracted by his compliment, I made use of the fact I had the upper hand to keep attacking him, relentlessly, with determination, forcing him to back away with each blow, little by little; until his back came in contact with a tree, stopping him in his tracks.
Still grinning, I leaned close to him and put my dull blade against his neck, the unsharpened iron gently brushing his skin.
"Am I still too slow, Professor?" I asked in a taunt.
But as I looked at him, my smile vanished when I noticed the blush on his cheeks and his slightly-open mouth: only then did I realize how close we were, our bodies pressed against one another, our faces only inches apart, so close our breaths could merge. And I, too, could now feel my face redden, my expression of sheer confidence having disappeared, replaced with one of bashfulness. And yet, I was unable to move as I stared into his eyes, my heartbeat picking up speed by the second.
"... You were fast, indeed." He asserted as he stared back into my eyes. "But I'm sure you can be even faster than that, [Y/N]... So what do you say we continue training and you demonstrate to me how fast you can be?"
His insinuative words made me gasp quietly, unaccustomed to hearing him employ such a provocative tone. But despite how much I was blushing, I smiled and maintained a confident demeanor.
Summary: Working as Hershel's assistant is challenging, and when exhaustion finally catches up to [Y/N], her sleepiness leads the two of them to share a very special moment inside the Laytonmobile.
Chronology: Post-Unwound Future/Pre-New World of Steam.
~~~~~~~~~~
"Well, my dear, I must thank you. Your suggestion to get acquainted with the neighbouring village was brilliant, it has provided us with crucial information regarding this case."
Sitting in the passenger seat, [Y/N] blushed lightly upon hearing Layton's praises.
"Thank you, Professor. I am more than delighted to know we have made significant progress."
Not long after the words had left her mouth, she quietly yawned, followed by a sigh.
"So am I, [Y/N]." He said with a smile. "But there is yet a lot for us to uncover, let us not forget."
As the engine of the Laytonmobile purred gently, she rested her head against her seat and closed her eyes.
"The clues we were able to retrieve today are evidence of it, in fact." He continued. "Both cities are intricately connected in ways one could not have imagined... How fascinating. Surprising, too. I hadn't considered such a possibility and failed to detect it upon our arrival in this town, yesterday. But, in retrospect, it should have been obvious. I must be getting rusty: there once was a time I would have taken notice of a piece of the puzzle this important within a matter of only a few minutes."
[Y/N] listened to him ramble on to himself and found comfort in his voice, in his words, wrapping around her as she began to doze off.
"I am well aware there are still many dark corners of the neighbouring village left for us to explore, but do not fret: we shall continue our investigation there in due time. For now, I wish for us to return to the town. You see, there is something I would like to show you... I wonder, [Y/N], do you—"
But the Professor suddenly cut himself short when he felt her head drop on his left shoulder, and for the first time since the ride had started, his eyes left the road to look down at her, but only for a split second.
It seems she has fallen asleep...
He tried his best to keep his composure, despite the faint blush spreading over his cheeks.
It would not be proper of me to continue driving under such circumstances... The risks of distraction are too high.
The car started to slowly lose speed, until he reached a part of the country road that allowed him to pull off to the side: with his foot off the gas pedal and the ignition key turned, the inside of the vehicle turned silent. Hershel looked down at [Y/N] and felt his face redden further as he listened to the calm and slow sound of her breathing. Then, in a quiet and steady but hesitant motion, he brushed her hair out of her face to tuck it behind her ear, his fingertips gliding over her skin.
For a moment, he stared at her tenderly, admiring her peaceful expression as he succumbed to her charm the longer his eyes stayed on her.
[Y/N] never ceases to invest a lot of herself in every adventure she partakes by my side, and I know things have not been easy for her since Luke has left the country. Now that she is my sole assistant, she feels she needs to take on every task that comes her way... but it pains me to see her overwork herself to the point of exhaustion. Once we return to the town, I will wake her up and take her back to her room in the inn for her to continue sleeping. But for now, I shall let her rest just a little longer, though I need to readjust her on her seat if I want to ensure I drive safely.
Delicately, he rested his hands on her shoulders and gently moved her body in an attempt to make her sit straight; but before he could do so, she seemed to have woken up just slightly, just enough to feel Layton's hands on her, and she instinctively leaned forward, her head now against his chest and her hands just barely clinging to him.
Not knowing what to say or do, Layton remained quiet as he stared down at her, eyes wide open, his cheeks overheating.
"Hmm... Professor... why did you stop?" She asked in a mumble, half-asleep.
"Well, I pulled the car off to the side of the road because you fell asleep, [Y/N]..." He replied awkwardly.
"No... I mean... Why did you stop talking?"
Puzzled by her unexpected question, he struggled to come up with an answer while she snuggled closer to him.
"I love to hear your voice." She said softly with an endearing smile, her eyes still closed. "It's soothing... and calming... and charming. I feel the same way when I look at you, too..."
A flustered, blushing mess, Layton found himself at a loss for words and sensed his breath quicken.
"... You're very comfortable, Professor..." She said in a sleepy voice. "I know... I shouldn't... but I want to sleep here... for a while..."
Although flattered, he could not help but feel bashful at her words.
"[Y/N]... my dear... Would you perhaps not be more comfortable in a bed?"
Slowly, she shook her head against his chest, and, finally, she opened her eyes slightly, her gaze hazy but affectionate.
"No... As long as you are beside me, I will always feel comfortable, and everything will always feel... just perfect..."
He stared down at her, at her face, into her eyes, and his own illuminated with the same loving glow; with a shy yet tender smile taking shape on his lips, he circled her body with his arms, keeping her close in his embrace, lulling her back into sleep.
"... Then, I will hold you in my arms for as long as you need me to... and I will always watch over you, [Y/N]."
Summary: After having brilliantly solved yet another mystery, [Y/N] and Hershel find themselves in the middle of a celebration, in the middle of the dancefloor, and, most importantly, in the arms of one another.
Chronology: Any game.
~~~~~~~~~~
In one corner of the large plaza, Layton, [Y/N], Luke, and Flora stood next to each other, forming a row. And each of their faces bore a warm smile as they all watched the townsfolk gather and celebrate, some distance away from them.
That day, all four of them had solved the mysteries of a town that was located far from London; a town they had managed to save, along with its inhabitants. To thank the Professor and his companions, they had decided to organize a celebration in their honor in the early evening, at the center of the town.
As they admired the glowing string lights and colorful decorations, gentle music began playing behind them, as a handful of the inhabitants had assembled to form a band: upon hearing the first notes, Luke's expression changed and he hurried to join the other musicians, his trusty violin in hand. He stood straight as he set it to rest between his shoulder and his chin and within a matter of a few seconds, the harmonious sound of his instrument had joined all the other ones in a beautiful symphony of sounds.
The others turned to him and looked at him play, smiling widely, expressions of fascination and pride on their faces.
"Beautiful, my boy." Praised Layton.
"You play amazingly, Luke!" Complimented [Y/N].
"It sounds so wonderful!" Flora exclaimed.
A little bashful, the boy chuckled nervously as he continued to play, now with a smile. As the melody of Luke's violin surrounded them, the team split up: Flora, who noticed a food stand on the other side of the plaza ran off, while [Y/N] happily made her way to the center of the plaza, where most of the townspeople had gathered, and this left Layton to stay behind, standing a few feet away from the band as he watched the excitement spread around him.
But among the crowd, there truly was only one person he watched, and that was [Y/N]. The young woman who was taking the time to go up to everyone, to greet them individually, to converse with the inhabitants, to put a smile on their faces. The young woman who had helped him solve that mystery through trials and tribulations. The young woman who, no matter what she faced, remained his faithful assistant, through thick and thin. The young woman whom he loved so dearly.
There she was, in the distance, mingling with every person she came across, shaking their hands as they thanked her for everything she had done: and on her face, a smile filled with glee. A smile that made Layton's heart melt, that made him smile as well, that filled him with an indescribable feeling.
There is no greater sight than seeing her so cheerful, so full of life...
Immersed in his contemplation, Luke's violin became white noise to his ears and he came to forget the world around him, so much so that he even failed to hear Flora's footsteps as they approached him.
"Isn't this party fun, Professor?" She excitedly asked him out of the blue.
The gentle voice of the young girl brought him back to reality and drove him to turn to look at her: in her hand, a candy apple, and on her face, a bright smile. Layton smiled back at her, his cheeks faintly pink.
"It is, Flora." He answered her cheerfully. "I'm happy to know you are enjoying yourself. We will be leaving the town and travelling back to London early tomorrow morning, so be sure to make the most of the celebration tonight while we are still here."
"Yes, Professor!"
After showing Flora one more smile, his eyes drifted back to [Y/N], still in the distance, still joyful. Although he instinctively brought his arms up to slowly cross them over his chest, the look in his gaze softened as he admired her from a distance, falling prey to her charm and aura.
While the musical performance of the band reached all the way to the center of the plaza, [Y/N] began to dance to the rhythm, letting her enthusiasm take over and pushing a handful of other people to start dancing alongside her as well: soon enough, most of the townsfolk gathered to dance in circles with one another and laughter filled the evening sky.
Layton could not help but chuckle upon seeing her manage to get the entirety of the town to dance with her, a sight he was not at all surprised to see despite its suddenness.
Her liveliness is so endearing, only she could lead so many people to come together in such a way.
His eyes followed her around, watching her every movement as the look in his eyes grew increasingly filled with affection, and it did not go unnoticed: Flora, still standing beside him, looked up at him and saw the expression displayed on his face, the love that hid in his smile. She followed the direction of his gaze until it reached [Y/N], then everything became clear to the young girl who would not suppress an amused grin.
In a slow movement, she took a step closer to Layton and stood next to him as she took a bite into her candy apple.
"... You should go and invite her to a dance, Professor." She told him softly.
Flora's unexpected suggestion made him open his eyes wider and now, more than ever, his cheeks shifted from pink to red. He looked back down at his young protégée and the smile on her face said it all: it was clear she could see right through him, right through the feelings he was failing at concealing. Not knowing what to say, he remained quiet as he stood still, slightly embarrassed, averting his eyes from Flora's. Then, after a few seconds of silence, he cleared his throat gently and looked down at himself while he readjusted his coat slightly.
"I don't know, Flora..." He said shyly.
It was clear he wanted to say more, to add another sentence, but he struggled to find the right words, to find the proper way to express himself. However, just as he was about to turn to Flora and speak up, he suddenly saw [Y/N] running up to him, her lips still shaped into her glowing smile, approaching closer to him with every step she took: before she even left him any time to understand what she was doing, she reached her hands out to him and grabbed one of his firmly.
"Come on, Professor!" She exclaimed loudly. "Come dance with all of us!"
With his left hand in both of her palms, she began to drag him away from Luke and Flora, and onto the center of the plaza. Unsure as to how to react, Layton found himself opening his eyes wide and feeling the redness of his face intensify yet even further.
"[Y/N], what are you—"
Unable to resist her grasp, he let himself be tugged and held onto his top hat to prevent it from falling. Soon enough, he found himself in the very center of the plaza, in the very middle of the crowd, surrounded by euphoria from all sides. [Y/N] still held his hand tight as she started to dance around him, pushing him to do the same: although everyone around him was smiling and laughing, Layton still remained flustered, his thoughts all jumbled. Then, in rhythm with the music echoing around them, the townspeople began to clap their hands in unison at a fast pace, all eyes turned to the Professor and his companion, dancing together as if there was no tomorrow, as if they were the only two people there.
And as he stared into [Y/N]'s eyes, wrapped wholly in the festive atmosphere, Layton lost his nervous expression and found himself smiling, his grin widening with each second, until he let out a warm laugh. His right hand let go of his hat as he joined hands with her, losing himself in the moment, setting all his thoughts aside. The two danced together, their laughs merging and mixing while their bodies progressively closed in on each other. Until the bell of the nearby church suddenly rang, freezing everyone in place, as if immortalizing the scene.
The band stopped playing abruptly. The crowd stopped clapping. The loud laughter was replaced by mere whispers. And as the bell continued to ring, three, four times, Layton and [Y/N] stood before each other, their hands joined, their faces inches from one another, their panting breaths meeting, their eyes wide open, their faces flushed, at the center of the universe.
In the distance, Luke diverted his gaze from the church bell and turned to look at them, and upon seeing them so close, in the arms of one another, the boy did not hesitate a single second before picking his violin back up and continuing to play, solo, his melodious instrument filling the silent and heavy air, providing Layton and [Y/N] with a tune to go with the special moment they were sharing. After only a few notes, the rest of the band followed Luke's lead and went back to playing, and time no longer felt frozen.
In the center of the plaza, the Professor and [Y/N] shyly let go of each other, but only to hold each other better, more appropriately, in accordance with dancing a slow; while both of their faces were still displaying timidity and awkwardness, she placed a hand on his shoulder while he gently rested one of his on her waist. And they began to dance, again, this time slowly, yet still as close to one another.
As he tried his best to remain as composed as he could, Layton cleared his throat gently while looking slightly down.
"I apologise for my behaviour just now, [Y/N]." He told her shamefully. "I may have let myself go a little too much..."
"Why are you apologizing, Professor?" She asked him with a chuckle. "You did nothing wrong, there is no need to worry. If anything, it really pleases me to see you so energetic and lively."
As he made her body sway slowly from left to right, she tilted her head, her eyebrows slightly furrowed.
"Please, don't take it the wrong way, but you're often too uptight, too... serious... especially these days. And I feel you have earned the right to unwind, to... have some fun of your own."
As she spoke, her expression changed and she stared deeply into his eyes, a caring smile on her face.
"So, please, Professor, do not restrain yourself from acting in such a way."
Layton stared back into her eyes, his mouth slightly open, feeling slightly overwhelmed by all the kindness and affection she was showing him: but soon enough, his lips took the shape of a warm smile as the palms of his hands held her body tighter, by just a bit.
"... At least allow me to apologise for not having invited you to a dance, then."
[Y/N] closed her eyes as she chuckled in a way Layton found incredibly endearing.
"I will not, Professor." She said playfully. "You're dancing with me right now, are you not?"
"I am, but as a gentleman, it should have been my duty to be the one to make the first move and invite you, instead of letting you take the lead and invite me yourself." He replied with slight embarrassment.
The young woman giggled as she slowly shook her head at him.
"Well, now that I'm dancing with you, you're free to take the lead, as much as you want."
Layton responded to her with a tender grin, but one that did not linger: as her words echoed within his mind, he stared at her face intently, at her smooth skin, at her rosy cheeks, and at her pink lips. A rush of adrenaline flowed through his veins as he clung to her tighter, closer, his body swaying in rhythm with hers. Yet, although the music continued to play behind them, they progressively ceased to dance, though without letting go of each other; as they did, [Y/N]'s hand on his shoulder moved up to his neck, holding it delicately while her heart raced in her chest. And when their bodies came to a stop, Layton tilted his head and leaned forward to make his lips meet [Y/N]'s in a firework of love and passion.
Both of their faces turned a bright red, but the last thing they wanted was to stop: they embraced one another affectionately as her hand on his neck grabbed the collar of his coat, hiding the lower part of their faces in the process.
Some distance away stood Luke and Flora, next to each other, who had been watching the two adults this whole time, and the second they witnessed their first kiss, they could not contain their reactions: Luke found himself blushing at the sight, so much so that he almost missed a note on his violin, while Flora was giddy with excitement, giggling as she finished to eat her candy apple.
But the two adults, on their end, cared little for the eyes that turned to them or even the smiles it brought to people's faces: at that moment, all that mattered was their love, their love for each other, the love they had been repressing for so long now. Their kiss was soft, sweet, like cotton candy, but, unfortunately, not everlasting, and it had to eventually come to an end. When it did, they slowly pulled away from each other, their lips still slightly parted, their breaths warm, and their hearts beating as one.
As he gradually opened his eyes, Layton looked down at her body, his skin still colored in a deep shade of pink.
"You look wonderful, tonight, [Y/N]..." He complimented her romantically in a whisper. "I meant to tell you earlier, but it slipped my mind..."
Opening her eyes as well, [Y/N] felt herself blushing further as she smiled timidly.
"Thank you... Hershel." She said hesitantly, unaccustomed to calling him by his first name. "You look wonderful yourself."
"Though I greatly appreciate the compliment, dear, this is no different from what I wear daily." He responded with a genuine laugh.
She laughed back while one of her hands slid down onto his chest, onto the fabric of his orange button-up shirt.
"I know." She said as she looked into his eyes. "You always look wonderful, Hershel."
The Professor's face bore an expression of bashfulness upon hearing her affectionate compliment and he found himself incapable of adding anything else to say as he shyly looked to the side. This made [Y/N] smile, a smile as upbeat as the music that was still playing around them, as upbeat as the way the townsfolk were still dancing around them.
While still held in Layton's arms, she turned her head to the side as well, but to look at Luke and Flora in the distance: with a bright smile, she waved at the two children and motioned a hand gesture to make them understand they, too, should come in the center of the plaza to dance with them. When Layton saw and understood what she was doing, he decided to imitate her to help encourage the kids to join them. Flora, enthusiastic at the idea turned to Luke with a smile, who pondered for a second before he, too, smiled: the boy played one last note on his violin before he set it down and back inside its case, leaving it by the band players.
Then, the two children made their way to the center of the plaza, where they joined Layton and [Y/N]. And together, they talked, smiled, laughed. But most importantly, they joyfully danced the night away.
Summary: A trip to America having taken an unexpected turn, a thunderstorm crashing the party, Luke having fallen ill… Under such circumstances, [Y/N] and Hershel have no other choice but to seek warmth and comfort inside her home, but little did they know that the real shelter is their love for each other.
Chronology: Any game.
~~~~~~~~~~
In a bang, [Y/N] opened the door fully, barging into the house, followed closely by Layton, standing behind her. Hurrying inside, she let the way into the hall open to him, before she closed the front door behind him after he had entered.
"Take Luke into your bedroom." She told him in the form of an order, one he did not mind being given considering the circumstances.
So, without saying a word, the Professor promptly made his way to his bedroom, carrying his young apprentice in his arms, and leaving multiple, wet sets of footprints behind him. [Y/N] followed after him and watched him approach the bed before he set the boy down on it, on top of the bedsheets.
She stepped closer to him as Layton leaned forward and rested a wet hand on Luke's equally-as-wet forehead with a pensive expression.
"The wetness of his skin makes the estimation a little complex, but it would seem he has a slight fever." He said after a soft sigh.
"Well, then it's as we suspected: Luke must have caught a cold of some kind." She declared as she squinted her eyes just slightly. "But... how is that even possible? I know we did run under the rain, but it didn't feel like we were caught in the storm for that long, not long enough it would cause someone to fall sick..."
"Indeed, this is rather odd." Layton stated as he crossed one arm on his chest and rested his other hand on his chin.
As [Y/N] stared at Luke with a worried look, the Professor adopted a more reflective expression while closing his eyes.
Perhaps Luke's physical condition was already not at its best by the time the rainstorm hit. He thought to himself. After all, we awoke at dawn this morning and spent the entire day walking without having barely had any time to sit down and relax... But even then, Luke should—
"Either way, 'how' and 'why' don't matter much right now." [Y/N] spoke up, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Luke is undeniably ill, and his condition will only worsen the longer he remains drenched. The first thing we should do is dry him up a bit."
With his eyes now open, he looked in front of himself, at her, then down at the poor boy, before he nodded briefly.
"You're right." He said in agreement while he was already starting to make his way out of the room. "Wait here and watch over him as I go gather us some towels, [Y/N]."
She nodded in response, but he had already left her sight, causing her to sigh softly.
I wish Hershel would let me handle some things, instead of taking on every task by himself. She told herself with a slight frown. I would have offered to go to the bathroom to fetch a towel or two myself, but he took off before I could say even a single word...
Before she could dwell on her thoughts for too long, still standing beside the bed, he made his way back into the bedroom, holding a few towels in his arms: picking the largest one out of the stack, he took a step closer to [Y/N] and handed it over to her.
"Here, [Y/N]." He said in his usual serious tone, concealing a strong sense of worry, one she was unaware of.
"Thank you." She told him, just as seriously.
With the towel now in hand, she turned back around and leaned forward over Luke's body, then proceeded to delicately wipe his face with it, along with the rest of his wet skin. And as she did so, Layton stood behind her and opened his eyes wider, visibly surprised.
Unbeknownst to her, I had purposefully picked this towel to give her for herself... and yet her immediate instinct is to pay no attention to her own condition to take care of Luke instead.
As he quietly watched her dab the soft fabric of the towel on Luke's skin, his lips formed a gentle smile while his cheeks were colored with a faint touch of red.
Always putting others before herself, always volunteering to help... always being here for Luke and me... Hm, [Y/N] really hasn't changed a bit.
One day, [Y/N] had come to meet Layton and Luke for the first time, by pure coincidence: the Professor and his apprentice were then working on a case, investigating a mystery, which had just so happened to involve her as well. Though she had no prior experience in detective work and puzzle-solving, she was working the case too, on her end; after she had met them and had become acquainted with them, the three of them had decided to keep the investigation going together, as a team. In the end, they managed to solve that mystery with the help of each other, and this adventure allowed them to get closer and learn more about one another. And after everything had come to an end, [Y/N] and Layton had promised each other to keep in touch, before they had parted ways.
[Y/N], who had now finished drying Luke's skin, held the wet towel in her hands as she took a step away from the bed and turned around to the Professor.
"Alright, I'm done." She declared with a sigh of relief.
"Thank you, [Y/N]." He said with a smile. "However, in order to ensure Luke's fever goes down, we still need to change him out of his soaked clothes and into dry ones."
"Right." She responded with a brief nod of the head.
She turned back to Luke, her towel still over her arm, but froze before her hands even reached his body: only then did she realize it would be relatively awkward for her, a young woman to undress a little boy, even if she was to leave his underwear on.
"... Right." She slowly repeated as she retracted her hands.
With rosy cheeks and a look of discomfort on her face, she turned back to Layton and stared down at the ground.
"I'll... be leaving Luke to you." She told him while she cleared her throat.
"Don't worry, I'm going to take care of him." He reassured her without even an ounce of uneasiness. "In the meantime, you should head to your room to dry yourself and change, as well."
As he said those words, he motioned his right hand toward her clothes, still dripping wet: and after having looked down at herself, she looked up at his face, only to be greeted with a warm smile.
"I wouldn't want you to fall ill, too." He said tenderly.
Still standing in front of him, still admiring the smile he was giving her, she felt the blush on her cheeks intensify.
"Y-Yes." She muttered as she struggled to maintain eye contact with him. "... Thank you, Professor."
With her eyes turned to the ground, she made her way outside of the room as she felt his kind gaze on her, after which he closed the door behind her. Now in the hallway, she tried her best to set her thoughts aside and headed to her bedroom, walking through the dark, dim interior; and as her wet shoes roamed the wooden flooring, she listened to the pouring rain, to the raging wind, to the storm still roaring outside.
There's rarely ever any rain here, who could have known such a storm would hit the town just during our trip? She asked herself while she looked through a window on the way. In fact, with such weather, it doesn't even really feel like we've left London at all...
Very shortly after having met Layton, [Y/N], who originated from America and had been living there all her life had made a rather definitive decision: she had chosen to leave her hometown behind and move to London. Although Britain was in no way her cup of tea, she was convinced of her intention, for she had a reason. As strange as it had been for her, experiencing these kinds of feelings for the first time, she had fallen for the Professor, the second she had met him. The investigation had brought them closer to one another, it had created a bond between them, or, at the very least, a bond she had felt, even if it may not have been the case for him. Whether he had feelings for her as well, she cared little: her adventure alongside him had been one of a kind for her, the very first of this kind, and she wanted to be sure she could experience more of them in the future. A simple promise had not been enough for her, she had wanted to make sure they could see each other and work together again, for certain. So, she had not hesitated long before deciding to pack her things and move to London, much to Layton and Luke's surprise when she had delivered the news to them. But, undeniably, they had also been very happy to have her close. From that point on, the Professor, his young apprentice, and his now-official companion had formed a trio, which would go on to solve mysteries together, all across the country and beyond. A new life that had greatly pleased [Y/N], helping her grow as a person and giving her a sense of purpose, all while her relationship with the Professor had strengthened and evolved, with each passing day.
Before she even knew it, she had reached the doorstep of her bedroom and ordered her thoughts to quiet down as she grabbed the knob and turned it to open the door. Once inside, she approached a small desk set not too far from her bed, on which she had put her suitcase; she unzipped and opened it completely, in search of her dry, clean pajamas for her to change out of her drenched clothes.
As she rummaged through her belongings, her fingers came in contact with an envelope, which made her stop her search to extract it instead: with weary eyes, she contemplated the envelope in her hands, containing the very letter that had brought her, Layton, and Luke there in the first place.
One morning, while the streets of London had been relatively quiet, [Y/N] had been supposed to meet up with Layton and Luke in his office, at Gressenheller University, to relax around a cup of tea; however, as the clock had struck 10 AM, the time of their rendezvous, she had not shown up. The pair could sense it was odd and Layton, growing worried, had decided to head over to her flat to check if everything was in order, while he had asked Luke to stay put and wait for him to return with her. Once standing before [Y/N]'s front door, he gently knocked while asking if she was inside. But as his fingers tapped on the door, it had opened on its own, visibly unlocked already, and he had found the young woman sitting on her sofa, a letter in hand, which she had been seemingly sobbing over. He had stepped inside, closed the door behind him, and made his way to her, before sitting down beside her on the sofa.
"This letter was just delivered to me... It was written and sent by a friend of my family, one of our neighbors residing in America... to let me know my father has recently died after a workplace accident... And as the only child of my parents, all of my father's fortune and inheritance is to become mine, including his house... My presence is requested back in America, in my hometown." She had explained through her tears. "First, my mother, who died when she gave birth to me... and now my father... Deprived of both of my parents... I've become an orphan, Professor..."
Breaking into tears once more, [Y/N] had turned to Layton and embraced him, clinging tight to his chest as she cried in the crook of his neck. Although caught off guard at first, he had promptly embraced her back, holding her close to him and circling her with his arms.
"... Would you like for me to come along to America with you, [Y/N]?" He had asked her after a minute of silence, speaking with politeness and sincere kindness. "You are entirely free to refuse, though I would think it beneficial for you to have company around during these hard times."
"... Please, yes..." She had answered with a slow nod as she had tightened her grasp on him.
[Y/N] reminisced about that day, about that morning, about that moment she had shared with Layton, and she felt once again surrounded by warmth and comfort, just with the sheer memory of having been held in his arms coming back to her, which also reddened her face in the process.
Now's not the time to dive back into memories... especially not ones of this kind. She scolded herself as she put the letter back into her suitcase. I need to hurry up and remove my wet clothes before I grow too cold.
So, she began to undress, starting with her coat, but as she took it off, she sensed something stored inside one of the jetted pockets, before she remembered what it was.
Oh, right, my notebook!
She pulled the notebook out of the pocket and proceeded to promptly inspect it, then sighed in relief.
Phew, it seems it hasn't been damaged by the rain at all. She thought as she flipped the pages one by one. I had already forgotten it was in my pocket... I had already forgotten about the investigation, what with the rainstorm and Luke. But then again, none of us had any idea we would find ourselves investigating here, to begin with...
Barely a day after having received the letter, [Y/N] had gathered some of her belongings and stuffed them inside a suitcase, which she would take with her on her trip to America. As logic would have had it, she and the Professor had thought it more suitable for them to take Luke along with them rather than leave him alone in London, so the young boy and his mentor had packed some luggage as well before the three of them had made the trip together; thankfully for them, everything had gone smoothly and they had made it to America without running into any inconveniences. The trio had arrived in [Y/N]'s hometown in the morning and had first decided to visit her newly-acquired house, in which they would be residing for the time of their stay. After having greeted and exchanged a few words with her friend and neighbor, the young woman had been given the keys to the house. The three of them had explored every room before they had made themselves at home: the house was relatively modest and small, but everything was there, from a bathroom to a kitchen and a living space. However, there were only two bedrooms, both furnished with a double bed, so Layton had designated the arrangement for them.
"Given the house is your property, [Y/N], it is only right for you to occupy one of the bedrooms by yourself, while Luke and myself will occupy the other." He had stated with a smile. "And before you start pouting and arguing, my boy, let me remind you that it is a gentleman's duty to put a lady's needs before his own."
Once their luggage had been set in their respective rooms, the trio had left the house and headed to the center of town: on the way there, [Y/N] had shown Layton and Luke around the neighborhood, then around town, introducing them to a few people and showing them how peaceful and remote of a district it was, far from the rest of the bustling cities. Shortly after the young woman had given them a quick tour of the town, the time had come for her to attend her father's funeral; accompanied by Layton and Luke, she had stood through the ceremony of the burial with a heavy heart. Once the ceremony had come to a close, the Professor had tried lifting her spirits by reminding her their afternoon had just begun, and he had offered for the three of them to take a stroll around town to change her mind. However, as they had done so, they had come face-to-face with the unexpected: what had started as a simple catching-up-with-old-friends for [Y/N] had quickly turned into much more, and through her exchanges with the townsfolk, she had learned of a series of strange mysteries that all tied back to her family house, which was now hers, and extended to most of the neighborhood. Although this trip to America had been planned to last only a day or two, [Y/N], Layton, and Luke were now determined to stay for longer, the time for them to unravel this string of mysteries. And so, they had started their investigation in the afternoon, on which they had worked until the evening came. After a long day filled with questions and surprises, the trio had decided to eat dinner at a local restaurant to unwind. But just as they had walked out of the establishment after having finished eating, the sky turned gray, then completely black, and within a matter of mere seconds, they were caught in the middle of a raging rainstorm, accompanied by strikes of thunder. With no other choice but to call it a day and head back home immediately, they put their investigation on hold for the moment and made their way to the house. However, halfway there, Luke had suddenly started to slow down the pace, and it had not taken long for the two adults to notice something was wrong: just as Layton had kneeled beside him to check on him, the boy had collapsed into his arms, seemingly unconscious, having presumably fallen ill due to the storm. With no time to lose, he had taken him in his arms and carried him under the pouring rain, hurrying back to the house along with [Y/N].
The investigation will have to wait for now. She mentally declared as she closed the small notebook and put it down beside her suitcase. After all, it's about time we get some rest, anyway. I think all three of us have earned a good night of sleep, especially Luke.
With this thought in mind, she continued to undress, removing her soggy clothes one by one and setting them on the backrest of the desk chair: soon enough, she was practically fully naked, and it did not take long for her body to tremble, feeling cold due to how wet her skin was. From where she was standing, she reached for the large towel she had kept with her and grabbed it with one hand, before she wrapped it around her body.
After having dried completely, she removed the towel and changed into her pajamas, which consisted of a tank top and a pair of shorts.
I'm probably going to be a little cold wearing such light clothes under such low temperatures, but I don't have much of a choice. She thought with a sigh as she slipped into her shorts. I didn't pack warm clothes... given the usual weather here, I didn't think it would be needed.
Now dry and changed into something clean, she gathered her clothes in one pile, along with the towel, and exited her bedroom to head to the bathroom. There, she hung them one by one, leaving them to dry for the night; then, she decided to go back to Layton and Luke's bedroom, in order to make sure everything was alright on their side.
She arrived in front of the bedroom door, which was not closed all the way, and pushed it open with the palm of her hand without a second thought. Inside, right in the middle of the room stood the Professor, undoing the last button of his orange shirt, his bare chest partially exposed to her eyes: her eyes, which opened wide at the unexpected sight, a sight that made her entire face turn pink with blush.
"Oh, my goodness—"
As the words quickly spilled out of her mouth, she hurriedly reached for the handle and closed the door in a swift movement.
"I-I'm terribly sorry, P-Professor, I s-should have knocked— My mind was somewhere else, I-I apologize—" She promptly mumbled in haste from the other side of the door.
Inside the room, Layton's hands had come to a stop, his fingers still holding the fabric of his shirt as the tips of his ears grew red.
"It's all right, [Y/N]..." He told her as calmly as he could, pretending to be unfazed.
But the look in his eyes betrayed him, a look that was fortunately for him unseen by her at that moment. Still standing with her back against the door, [Y/N] brought both of her hands up to her face and cupped her cheeks with them as she closed her eyes shut tight.
Let's forget this ever happened, I should go back to my bedroom for now and wait for Hershel to be finished changing before going back in.
But just as she opened her eyes, just as she was about to take a step forward, her attention was caught by a series of sounds coming from inside the room: the sounds of Layton continuing to undress, unaware of [Y/N]'s presence right outside his door. She perceived the rustling of his shirt, which she assumed he had now removed completely, and the sheer mental vision she imagined of him topless was enough to make her close her eyes back, now completely flushed.
But it did not stop there: although her eyes were now closed, her ears picked up on the sound of his belt, which he was seemingly removing from around his waist. The loud rain pouring heavily outside the house seemed to have gone completely silent for but a moment as she listened closely to his hands sliding his pants down his legs, and, before long, she found herself deep in thought, surrounded by her imagination, growing more and more flustered with each passing second.
Only when the door suddenly opened behind her was she brought back to reality, and upon turning around, she realized she had been daydreaming the entire time the Professor was changing, as he was now fully dry and dressed in a thin sweater and a new pair of pants.
With a smile, as if nothing had happened, he looked at her, a smile that greatly contrasted the expression of awkwardness visible on her face.
"You came to check up on Luke, didn't you?" He casually asked her.
"Y-Yes." She answered with a brief nod, every part of her still reeling from what had been crossing her mind just a minute ago.
He stepped to the side, allowing her to see inside the room, to see Luke still lying in bed, and she remained standing at the doorway as she stared at him from a distance, her face displaying both a feeling of sadness and one of relief.
"I made him remove the clothes he was wearing before I put them to dry, then I dressed him in his pyjamas." He told her while he turned to look at the boy, speaking softly so as to not wake him up. "There isn't much left for us to do, now, aside from letting him rest for the night."
As he finished his sentence, he stepped out of the bedroom, joining [Y/N] in the hallway, before he closed the door in front of him. Then, with no specific goal or destination in mind, the two of them started to pace through the hall, walking beside each other as the rain kept on falling just outside the house.
"Speaking of which, Professor, I was wondering: where do you intend on sleeping tonight?" She asked him somewhat concerned while she turned to him. "Since Luke is sick and has to recover, he needs a bed for himself, and you would risk catching his illness if you were to sleep next to him... So, what do you have in mind?"
"Well, I will admit it isn't optimal, but I'm considering staying in the living space for the night." He answered calmly, though with just a hint of bitterness in his tone.
Just when he said this, the two of them arrived in said living space: and just when they did, she stopped herself in her steps to turn her whole body to him.
"Professor, you're not going to sleep here!" She exclaimed with bewilderment as she gestured at the room with her hand.
"I'm afraid no other options are available to us, [Y/N]." He said as he stared at the sofa placed in the middle of the room.
"... Well, there's always my room, my bed." She told him after having pondered briefly.
In a swift yet gentle movement, Layton turned his head to the young woman, a look of shock on his face.
"[Y/N], I couldn't possibly take your bed." He stated while he stared into her eyes. "This is your house, your bedroom, Luke and I are only your guests. Besides, this would mean you would be the one to sleep on this sofa, and I would rather have you sleep comfortably in a bed."
The way he spoke about her made her blush faintly, but it also made her close her eyes with a sigh.
Ugh, why does he always have to be so stubborn? She asked herself with a slow headshake. This pointless bickering will get us nowhere; Hershel wants me to take the bed, and I want him to take it. There has got to be a way to settle this debate...
Holding her chin in one hand for a few seconds, she kept her eyes closed as she continued to think, until a thought crossed her mind, which made her open her eyes back: with blushing cheeks but a resolute smile, she took a step forward and placed herself before him.
"This is my house, right, Professor?" She started smugly, still grinning. "And if it is my house, then it's also my rules, what I say goes. And right now, what I say is that you have to take my bed for the night."
As a man whose intellect allowed him to prepare for every outcome possible, Layton was only ever rarely caught by surprise when the unexpected occurred: but seeing [Y/N] standing before him in such a way, addressing him with such confidence, staring straight into his eyes, he simply could not conceal the astonishment visible on his face.
"I know you're only being your usual, gentlemanly self, Professor, you want what is best for me, and I am grateful for it." She continued in a softer tone. "But I, too, want what is best for you. And I can assure you that it truly doesn't bother me to share my bed with you, if it means you earn the night of peaceful sleep you deserve."
"Share?" He repeated, still astonished, his cheeks now slightly pink.
For just a second, silence reigned. And then, with eyes wide open, [Y/N] gasped lightly.
"Oh— D-Don't get the wrong idea— I didn't... mean it like that—" She promptly explained with a face that had turned completely red. "What I meant was—... This seems to be the only way both of us will settle this disagreement. I figured, considering we each want the other to have the bed for the night, if we both have it, then we will both be satisfied..."
Still standing in front of the young woman whose face was now turned to the ground, Layton found himself at a loss for words.
Such an offer is...
He simply did not know what to think; but as more and more thoughts started to fill his brain, he stared at [Y/N] with blushing cheeks and decided to let his heart guide him.
"... All right." He finally said with a nod, his lips shaped into a shy smile. "After all, you do have a point, your reasoning is quite logical."
Upon hearing he accepted, [Y/N] looked back up at him with an expression of surprise, but that was replaced with one of glee within a matter of a second.
"It's settled, then." She said with her cheeks still sprinkled with blush. "In that case, Professor, you're free to move your trunk into my bedroom, if you wish to go retrieve it from the other bedroom. In the meantime, I will tidy things up in mine."
He responded to her with a silent nod, deprived of words but accompanied by a warm smile. So, while Layton made his way back into the bedroom Luke was sleeping in to gather his belongings, [Y/N] headed to her own bedroom and promptly put the room in order for him; after she was finished, she decided to dim the lights by turning them all off except for one, the small lamp on the nightstand by her side of the bed, which provided just enough light to the room for the eyes to see.
Once she deemed the room suitable for nighttime, she walked to the bed and sat down on top of the sheets, before she closed her eyes and peacefully listened to the sound of raindrops right outside the window. Soon after, the bedroom door opened and entered the Professor, his luggage in hand: and when she opened her eyes and turned her head to him, seeing him step inside then close the door behind him, all in a very quiet fashion, she simply could not help but feel her face grow contaminated with blush.
It's still so odd for me to realize Hershel and I are... going to be sharing a bedroom for the night, sleeping in the same bed... so close to one another...
She watched him approach the bed, sending a warm yet somewhat flustered smile her way, and a sudden thought crossed her mind; in a swift and sudden movement, she stood up from the mattress and turned her body to him, an embarrassed look on her face.
"Oh, hum, I forgot to consult you beforehand on which side of the bed you would rather prefer sleeping on, I'm sorry— I claimed this side, but it's completely fine by me if you wish for us to swap places..."
With a low, charming chuckle, he sat down on the bed, opposite her.
"It's all right, [Y/N], there's no need to apologise." He said in a comforting tone of voice. "You can stay on this side, it's fine by me either way."
Still filled with awkwardness, the young woman slowly nodded in silence before she sat back down, her gaze directed at the ground. She raised her head up just slightly, enough to look through the nearest window, to look at the rain falling, and a sigh escaped her lips.
"I know Luke is going to be ok, I know he will be better by tomorrow, but I simply cannot help but worry for him, I have trouble getting him out of my mind... And with this storm—"
But she suddenly cut herself short: halfway through her sentence, she turned around to look at Layton, only to be met with a sight so rare it took her breath away. The sight of him removing his top hat, gently lifting it from the top of his head before setting it down on his bedside table. Although she had known him for quite some time now, it was still very uncommon for [Y/N] to ever see Layton take off his hat, and as such, whenever it did happen, she made sure she cherished the moment wholly, admiring this side of him he never let show to anyone. And this moment was no different; if anything, it meant even more to her than any previous times she had seen him without his hat. Because for the first time since she had met him, she was experiencing a truly intimate moment with him, one that was different from everything else they had shared together before.
Before she realized it, she became entirely absorbed by her thoughts and her eyes kept admiring his face, barely even blinking; a look it seemed he was oblivious to.
"I know Luke's condition weighs heavy on your mind, [Y/N]." He said in a tone that was both serious and tender. "It weighs heavy on mine, as well. But we have had a long and wearing day, and what you need is some rest. Try clearing your mind of today's worries, of the storm and of Luke, and I'm sure you will manage to find sleep tonight."
His words pulled her out of her thoughts and back into reality, yet they left her just as shy: to hear him care so much about her, about her well-being, it warmed her entire soul.
She stared at him, still in admiration, but this time with deep affection.
"... Thank you, Professor." She said with a smile. "I'll try following your advice as best as I can."
To that, Layton smiled back at her without a word, after which he began to properly get in bed. She followed his lead, placing herself underneath the heavy sheets, then extended one of her arms to her nightstand.
"May I turn off the light?"
"Please, do."
As her hand reached the lamp, she felt her cheeks turn a deep shade of pink while an uncontrollable smile appeared on her lips.
"Then, goodnight, Professor."
"Goodnight, [Y/N]."
Her fingers flicked off the switch and the room was plunged into darkness. Darkness, and silence. A silence filled with a sense of awkwardness, of shyness, of restraint. And a sense of love, too.
[Y/N] and Layton were both lying down on their sides, facing their respective ways, their backs turned to each other, and neither of them added another word. The room was so quiet, [Y/N] could hear him breathing calmly behind her, and she could only assume he had already fallen asleep; she, on the other hand, was incapable of accomplishing such a task at that moment.
With her sharp breath and wide-open eyes, she was too emotionally compromised to be able to find sleep and instead listened to the rain as she fell prey to her thoughts.
Hershel seems to have already managed to fall asleep... but how can he? For the two of us to sleep in the same bed... I know there really should be no need for me to make a fuss out of this situation, but... I simply can't help it. To be this close to him, to know he's right behind me, sleeping safe and sound... by my side...
She closed her eyes tight as she wrapped herself in her own arms, growing more and more flushed by the second.
I can't permit myself to obsess over such thoughts... especially if I want to be able to sleep tonight. I need to take a deep breath and relax. I need to stretch my legs, to drink some cool water, this is what I need.
With this in mind, she slowly pushed the bedsheets aside and carefully slipped out of bed, making sure she was quiet enough so as to not wake him up; with faint footsteps, she walked around the bed and to the door, then she exited the room without a sound, closing the door behind her. And the bedroom fell silent. Or so it seemed.
The very second the door closed, Layton, who was left alone inside immediately exhaled a deep, heavy breath through his mouth while his body began to move on the bed.
Good heavens, what have I gotten myself into? He asked himself as he brought his hand to his forehead, concealing the blush on his face.
His eyes then fell on the door, before they drifted to the other side of the bed, [Y/N]'s side.
I believed her to be asleep... but it appears I was mistaken. Could she, too, find it hard to be at peace in such a situation, under such circumstances?
More pensive than ever, he lay on his back and brought one hand up to his face as he stared straight at the ceiling.
Such a reaction is quite understandable, after all: as a gentleman, it is my duty to ensure [Y/N]'s well-being and to never behave inappropriately toward her. But to spend the night in the same bed as her, it breaks this very duty of mine and goes against all my principles, all my morals... Then again, come to think of it, she is the one to have made me such an offer, so I can only assume she sees no issue with sharing her bed with me, as she has stated... Still, I cannot shake the feeling that my presence beside hers in this bed is rather wrong. [Y/N] may be an adult, but she remains a young woman, younger than me by about ten years... What would she think of me, in this regard? Would she see my attitude as unbecoming, as provocative, or even as misplaced? But how could she perceive my love for her in such ways? After all, the human heart simply cannot be helped, and I should feel no shame for the place she holds in mine... Oh, but it represents such an arduous task to make my feelings known to her. I hardly dare touch her, what if she took offense? Nevertheless, the facts are that this situation we are finding ourselves in constitutes the most ideal opportunity for me to approach her, on a physical level... But—
The bedroom door suddenly opened, interrupting Layton in his train of thought and putting an abrupt end to his inner conflict. [Y/N] entered the room before she closed the door behind her, just as quietly as she had opened it the first time around, still believing him to be asleep; she was back from the kitchen, where she had gone to drink a refreshing glass of cool water, which had helped her feel a little better. Additionally, she had also used this time to go check on Luke, once more, to make sure he was still doing all right: upon seeing the young boy lying down on the bed, sleeping peacefully, her mind had instantly been put at ease, further comforting her state of mind.
She made her way around the bed, back to her side, her bare feet slowly pacing the cold wooden flooring. Once she had reached her side of the bed, she gently sat down before she slid underneath the sheets; but although her voice remained completely mute, her body betrayed her.
There, against the mattress, her limbs began to shiver, her skin growing covered with goosebumps. Although she was now wrapped in the warm bedsheets, she was still only wearing a tank top and a pair of shorts, and having gotten out of bed had lowered her body temperature greatly: she may not have been feeling this cold only a few minutes prior, but leaving the bedroom to wander around the house had led her to feel quite chilled.
From his side of the bed, Layton could feel her body quiver, he could almost hear her shaky breath; in a slow and graceful movement, he quietly turned around, now lying on his left side, facing [Y/N]'s back turned to him. And he stared at her, at her figure amidst the dark, at her trembling arms, and at her head resting on the pillows. He admired the lines of her body, although partly concealed by the bedsheets, seemingly not thick enough to warm her up fully. His eyes traced her back, and as they went up and reached her exposed shoulders, for one of the very first times in his life, his mind went blank, his thoughts stopped altogether: not even an ounce of hesitation flowed through his veins as he extended both of his arms toward her and reached for her shoulders.
He rested the palms of his hands on her, in a sudden yet gentle way, gentle enough for her not to be startled, but enough to make her turn around in surprise. Her body turned, just at the moment he moved closer to her. And when it did, she found herself in his arms, her face against the crook of his neck, his hands on her body.
"H-Hershel...?"
Above her, his voice let out a warm and loving chuckle, yet so quiet it was almost inaudible.
"How I have longed to hear you address me by my name, dear..." He said softly, his tone calm and relaxed.
Only then did she realize she had called the Professor by his first name, too overcome by her emotions to think rationally; she felt flushed, more than she ever had before, her face overheating at the contact of his skin against hers, of her hands on his chest, of his fingers holding her arms, of his head resting above hers. Everything felt as though it was wrapping around her, enveloping her in a blanket of comfort, peacefulness, and love.
But it all felt so surreal, so unbelievable, and she was too bashful to articulate even a single word, no matter how much she wished she could speak.
"... I could not help but notice you were trembling while lying underneath the bedsheets." Layton told her, a hint of concern in his voice. "... Are you cold?"
"Not... anymore..." She shyly answered in a whisper.
His hands on her arms held her just a little tighter as a faint sigh of relief escaped his lips, then silence fell between them. Not a long silence, one that could not have lasted more than ten seconds, but one that felt everlasting, until he sighed once more, this time in a way that felt more embarrassed than confident.
"... I feel I need to apologise for my behaviour, [Y/N]." He started, his words filled with awkwardness. "It was improper of me to initiate such physical contact with you, especially without your consent..."
"And yet, you're still holding me." She told him in a gentle tone, her fingers still pressed to his chest.
Caught off guard by her unexpected statement, Layton opened his eyes wider, a light gasp slipping through his open lips; it only took him a second to regain his composure, but no matter how calm he wished his face to appear to be, the intensifying blush on his cheeks betrayed his true state of mind.
"I... still am, yes." He admitted in a shameful voice.
But despite the sense of guilt he seemed to be carrying, his aura still radiated confidence; confidence, and love.
"Because although my mind tells me what I am doing is wrong, my heart forbids me to let go of you, now that you are in my arms."
As he said those words, her hands on his chest could feel his heartbeat quicken, just as much as her own.
"Hershel... I don't want you to let go of me, either." She slowly confessed as she closed her eyes.
"I know, my dear." He responded with a gentle smile, his cheeks still red. "But..."
Leaving the beginning of his sentence to trail off, his hands went back up to her shoulders, which he gently grabbed to pull her body away from his just slightly, before he looked down at her: and with her face now no longer squeezed against his collarbone, she was free to look up, back at him, and, at last, she could finally see his face again, admiring the tenderness of his features and the glimpse in his eyes as he stared at her. But just as she was about to give him a faint, shy smile, she felt his hands on her shoulders pulling her up, up to his eye level, and her lips took a completely different shape.
There she lay, on her right side, her head comfortably resting on a pillow, face-to-face with Layton, and she felt her heart skip more than only one beat; a single glimpse of his eyes meeting hers was enough to make her look away, her cheeks turning such a bright red she wished she could hide in the darkness.
A reaction that seemed to amuse him, judging by the charming smile on his face and the low-pitched, affectionate chuckle he let out.
"Now, [Y/N], there's no need for you to feel so shy around me." He told her in a reassuring voice while he took her in his arms once more.
As his arms wrapped around her, she remained quiet, her gaze still avoiding his, her cheeks still burning hot.
"Please, dear, look at me." He requested with tenderness.
Unable to let his demand go unfulfilled, [Y/N] gathered all her strength and looked straight in front of her, at his face, shining with a warm smile.
"There you go." He said in an encouraging tone.
The sweetness in his words made her want to look away again, but she remained assertive and continued staring into his eyes.
"I agree this situation is... quite unconventional... especially for myself." Layton began, slightly embarrassed, his eyes shifting positions. "I am not accustomed to interactions of this kind... This is all relatively new to me. So I fully understand the cause and reason behind your timidity, as I share it myself."
And yet, no such emotion was visible on his face: despite the redness of his skin that lingered, his bashful expression faded away to be replaced with one of softness, of affection.
"Nevertheless, I know you to be strong, and I am asking you to remain strong, just for the time being."
She gazed at him and slightly nodded her head to him, silently but tenderly: and as he sighed deeply, he gazed back at her, back into her eyes.
"Do you remember what I had told you, the day we parted ways for the first time, at the end of our very first adventure together? I told you I could see potential in you, potential that would bloom over time, over trials and tribulations. And I was not solely referring to your potential in mystery-solving, but also your potential as an individual... And it seems my intuition was right."
The Professor stared at her, at all of her being, with unconditional love, one that no one had ever seen in his eyes before, one that felt pure and true.
"[Y/N], you are a wonderful young woman, who possesses great intelligence and a remarkable set of skills. You are always so full of life, and you feel such compassion and empathy, not only toward Luke and myself but toward strangers, as well. You are distinguished, and please do not regard my words as indecent when I say I find your physique beautiful, in every way. You have a natural charm to yourself that makes people drawn to you, the sound of your voice is more soothing to the ears than music, the way you smile and laugh is more vibrant than a ray of sunshine, you care deeply for Luke, you are dedicated to every task you take on, you have a unique sense of humour, you are an amazing opponent at chess, you make exquisite tea, and... You are the most extraordinary woman I have had the chance to meet... in a very long time. You have made every aspect of my life better since the very first day I met you, and I can only hope I have also been able to make yours better in return. For long, I have wondered how I could possibly repay you for all that you have done for me, a way to thank you accordingly. And I believe tonight has opened my eyes, and, above all else, has opened my heart, and now I know my answer: the only way for me to truthfully make you understand how much you mean to me is by confessing my feelings for you. Pardon me for being this direct with you, [Y/N], but I am in love with you. And I have been in love with you for long, now, longer than you may be imagining. You complete me, you make me feel whole, I feel understood when I am by your side, and there is nothing I dread more than being separated from you. Behind every great man, there is a woman: and it may be too presumptuous of me to make such claims, but I think of you as mine... and I would not want it to be any other woman than you."
[Y/N] shed one tear, then another, then another.
"Hershel..." She murmured in a trembling voice.
His love declaration had left her at a loss for words, her heart overflowing with emotions and her mind submerged by the series of compliments he had showered her with. He stared straight at her, straight at her weeping face, and he hesitated for some time, debating whether or not to let his feelings guide him, then he finally gave in to his heart's orders: although hesitantly, he approached a hand to her face and held it delicately, his fingers on her neck while his palm rested on her jawline. And his thumb slowly brushed her cheek, wiping it of her tears, all with a glimmer of love in his eyes.
Upon feeling the warmth of his touch, she closed her eyes and leaned into his hand, firm yet gentle; when she opened her eyes again and they reached his face, it was clear to her that judging by the look he was displaying, he had not meant for his confession to be this lengthy, and it would have seemed a part of him felt remorse, for fear of having said too much, of having gone too far. And [Y/N] saw it, so she decided to chase away any doubt he may still have had, once and for all.
Just as delicately as he had put his hand on her face, she brought one of her hands up and rested it over his, interlocking her fingers with his. The gesture surprised Layton, whose face turned from pink to red.
"I love you too, Hershel." She bluntly declared with an affectionate smile. "I... apologize for confessing in such a straightforward manner... my speech is surely going to be shorter than yours. But I know you need to hear these words, I can see it on your face: even now, you still wonder if I reciprocate your feelings, if your love is matched by mine, and I want you to know that yes, it is. You need to know, and I want you to know, I want you to know just how important you are to me. Perhaps you hadn't noticed, back then, but I fell for you the very day I met you for the first time. I fell for your intelligence, for your manners, for your words, for the way you think, for your personality, for each and every single one of your qualities, and for each and every single one of your imperfections, as few as they are. I'm sure it was evident to you that the sole reason I had to move to London was you... Now that I had met you, I simply could not see myself away from you, as shameful and selfish as it may have been of me. But I don't regret having done it, because it has granted me the chance to spend time with you, to accompany you and Luke on your adventures, to see myself grow alongside you, to help you whenever you needed me... and these past few years I have spent by your side have been the most wonderful years of my life. I would often wonder whether you felt the same way I did, whether I had embellished your life the same way you have embellished mine. And, now, I know it to be true, and I have never felt happier before. And I want you to feel such joy, too, Hershel, so I want you to know how much I love you."
By the time she reached the end of her confession, her wish had come true: Layton's face bore an expression that combined relief and shyness, but, above all else, displayed sheer happiness. Happiness that was rapidly replaced by bashfulness, however, as the two of them were well aware of what awaited them now: with their faces so close to one another, only a few inches away, Layton was unsure, wavering. But when he stared deeply into [Y/N]'s eyes, he could discern a spark, a spark of love that was calling to him, and uncertainty left him as quickly as it had invaded him.
With his hand still resting on her skin, he leaned yet even closer to her face and squinted his eyes, before closing them completely the second he made his lips meet hers. One of her hands found its way to his cheek, while the other grabbed hold of the collar of his sweater, gripping it tighter the longer the kiss lasted; a tender, affectionate kiss, that carried such yearning, such love. A kiss that took their body temperature higher and higher, to the point of feeling like they were overheating. A kiss that felt as soft as the bed they were in, as warm as the sheets that were covering them. And yet, a kiss that only lasted but a few seconds: and when it ended, reality reappeared around them as they opened their eyes back, back in the arms of each other.
The cold chills [Y/N] had been feeling some time ago had now vanished, having been replaced by a burning love, burning within her soul, and which she knew was burning within his, as well: she could see it displayed on his face. But what was most visible on his face was an expression of widespread timidity, one she could not help but find amusing.
"I... hope it satisfied you." He said in a soft yet embarrassed tone, avoiding making eye contact with her. "A true gentleman should always know how to properly please a lady, but I must admit I... had not kissed someone in a long time... my apologies, dear."
And more amusing even were his words, which made her giggle cutely.
"There's no need to apologize, Hershel." She told him kindly to reassure him. "Your kiss was... more than just satisfying, I assure you."
The blush on his face only intensified upon him hearing her words, but they also helped shape his lips into a smile, a warm smile she sent back to him. Suddenly, a thunderclap roared outside the window, startling [Y/N] who instinctively snuggled against Layton, burying her face in the crook of his neck; immediately, he took her into his embrace and held her tight, wrapping her securely.
"Everything is ok, I'm here." He comforted her in a calm though slightly concerned voice.
The two of them had been so engrossed in one another, in the love they had to share that they had completely forgotten about the storm, that was still raging outside, the wind still blowing and the drops still falling. Lying against him, she felt ashamed of having reacted in such a childish way, yet she found herself unable to let go of him.
"I'm sorry..." She apologized in a whisper.
"No, no, it's all right." He reassured her with a smile. "Storms as heavy as this one can be frightening, and your reaction is absolutely legitimate."
With a delicate hand, he reached down to her face and made her look up at him.
"But you need not to fret, my dear. I am right here, with you. And as long as I am here, you have nothing to fear. Now, more than ever before, it is my duty to protect you. You can sleep, safely and soundly, without having to worry about the storm or any other matter of the sort."
[Y/N] stared at his face, into his eyes, and the love she read in them would have been enough to make her shed one more tear.
"Thank you, Hershel." She murmured softly, her lips shaped into a shy smile.
"Of course, dear." He replied as he gently stroke the top of her head.
Their bodies as one, they adjusted themselves on the bed just a little to lie comfortably against one another. And just as Layton had promised her, [Y/N] closed her eyes and drifted off into sleep, safe and sound, in his arms.
At the end of the day, sexual intercourse rests on science- and biology-related elements, such as the fact that certain chemicals are released within an individual's body after they've finished the act; one of the main ones is oxytocin, among others. The bodily reaction of feeling relatively sleepy after sex is common between both men and women, but it's often stronger for men, hence why they usually tend to fall asleep rather quickly after having had sex. However, this isn't necessarily the case for Debito, as he easily has control over how fast or slow it can take him to fall asleep afterward. Obviously, this only concerns sex sessions when they take place during the night, since when he and his partner have sex during the day, he goes back to whatever it is he was doing, though sometimes he does decide to head to his bedroom at the Family manor to take a short nap; but then again, that's something he does on a daily basis, even without having intercourse. So, when it comes to late-night sessions in bed, how quick he is to fall asleep depends on his mood and how he's feeling, in addition to whether he's feeling particularly exhausted or not on a physical level. But, most importantly, it always depends on his partner, on how you're feeling afterward and on whether you wish to stay awake or not: if you tell him you'd like to cuddle or talk for a little while longer, then he will stay up, otherwise he will fall asleep rather quickly. In those instances, when you want the two of you to keep each company after having finished the act, Debito does not fall asleep until you have, and usually spends this time stroking your hair until you do find sleep. In brief, Debito could very well decide to stay up for long afterward if he wanted to, and it takes him an average of just a couple of minutes when he decides to fall asleep quickly, otherwise it takes him an average of 10 minutes when staying awake with you.
Mini Scene
"... Are you asleep yet, Bambina?"
Debito's voice spoke up with suddenness, but the tone of his voice was extremely gentle. It was pitch black in the room, complete darkness surrounding us, but the night was far from being calm: although we often enjoyed keeping the window half open at nighttime to let some fresh air inside the room while we slept, we were unable to that night. The window's glass was growing more and more covered with raindrops, all while the wind blew loudly against it, and it went on and on.
I opened my eyes slowly, staring at the dark around me, before I moved my limbs just slightly, my back gently rubbing against Debito's chest.
"... No." I answered in a voice so quiet it was almost inaudible.
"I assumed as much." He whispered with a soft sigh. "I take it you can't sleep?"
"Yeah." I replied with a brief nod. "I know we just had sex, so my mind should be empty and clear of worries, but..."
"You just can't help thinking about everything that's been troubling you lately?" Debito said, finishing my sentence.
With his body spooning mine, I leaned back further, embracing his bare chest with my naked back, and closed my eyes again.
"Yes. And the storm outside isn't really helping, either..."
The bedroom then fell silent again, set aside the loud weather that raged outside. Debito did not add anything, I could only hear his warm breath, feeling it against the back of my nape, sending shivers down my spine; my spine, which felt secure against his torso, and which warmed up my entire body. While one of his arms was lying underneath my head, his other was resting on my body, on my legs, the palm of his hand providing me with a sense of comfort.
Then, still within the silence, his fingers began moving slowly, caressing the surface of my bare skin with their tips, soothing me into peacefulness.
"Don't worry, amore mio." Debito lovingly murmured into my ear. "I'm here, with you, and I'll stay awake by your side for as long as you need me."
Y) Yearning: How high his sex drive is/how often he wants to have sex.
~~~~~~~~~~
The notion of having a sex drive is different from one individual to another: while some people do have a sex drive, some others have no sex drive whatsoever, and some others see their sex drive fluctuate over time, either going up or down depending on the day. Frankly, this is absolutely not the case for Debito. Unsurprisingly, as everyone could expect and knows for a fact, his sex drive is very high, as is evident by his usual behavior. Before he met you and that you became his partner, he used to express his sex drive and to let it show through how often he flirted with women on a daily basis, but it's no longer the case; nowadays, now that he has you, he only projects his lust and desire onto you. He requires a lot of attention from you and makes advances to you all day long, trying his best to seduce you into sharing intimate words and gestures with him. Even if you two don't go far, even if you don't go all the way into the act, he constantly wants to get things going, even if it only consists of kisses and cuddles: he simply craves physical affection and touch, especially from you. When it comes to slipping underneath the bedsheets, Debito and you have sex about two to three times a week, on average, though sometimes it's more, and while it's rarely less, it does still happen. Debito could very well have sexual intercourse every single day and night if he truly wanted to, but he refuses to do so: he's the type of man who likes not to abuse of sex, who wishes to preserve the magic of it, to let it build up a little over time. Needless to say, he never refuses your requests when you suggest you and him have sex, as he is always ready to please you. Overall, in regards to your shared sexual life, Debito has managed to find a proper balance with you, a routine of frequency he is plenty satisfied with, just as much as you are, regardless of how low or high your own sex drive is.
Mini Scene
I knocked on the door a single time but did not wait for a response before I opened it anyway. Inside was Debito, sitting on an armchair, who turned his head to me when he heard the door open; and a charming smile shaped his lips as he watched me step inside his bedroom. I had a smile of my own, a smile that revealed just as much as it concealed.
I walked up to him but went to stand behind him, after which I circled his neck with my arms.
"Hey, you." I said sensually as I leaned forward, resting my head on his shoulder.
"Right back at you, Bambina." He said, still smiling.
"I knew I'd find you here, this is always where you hide during your afternoon breaks."
"Were you looking for me?" He asked as he turned his head to me.
I let my hands slide down onto his chest, just as I felt my body temperature rise from the inside.
"To tell you the truth, darling..." I started, whispering into his ear. "I kind of... really want us to have sex, right now..."
Debito's eye opened wider just slightly, caught by surprise by my words, but he soon regained his composure, smiling once more.
"Really, amore? But we did it just last night."
"I know..." I said, letting my words to trail off.
As I spoke, I walked around the chair so that I could be in front of him, before I sat down on his lap.
"Do you not want to?" I genuinely asked, my head slightly tilted as I frowned.
Debito leaned forward to set his wine glass on the table in front of him, after which he placed both of his hands on my waist.
"I like us to have sex regularly, Bambina, but not all the time." He said with a hint of kindness. "I like to let this desire linger, so that when we do it, it doesn't make us feel like we've already gotten enough of it."
But as he finished talking, he grabbed me by the chin, making me stare at him, at the smirk on his face, before he held both of my hands and placed them on the buttons of his pants.
"But seeing you like this... How could I ever say no to such a tempting offer?"
On average, the length of an erect penis is between 5.1 and 5.5 inches. However, Debito is placed a little over this average; not by a whole lot, but above it nonetheless. In terms of size and shape, his member is not thick in girth, instead relatively slim, being longer than it is large. It is a known fact in today's society that many men have insecurities in regards to their penis, most usually when it comes to length: indeed, many men are dissatisfied with the way theirs is, which often leads to complexes that appear after suffering from the pressure of the expected standards. But this is not the case for Debito, far from it. He is relatively happy and content with the way his member is, with its length and shape, and it fits him just well. In the never-ending debate of whether size matters or not, he is of those who think that it does not; in his eyes, this matters little, as it does and should not dictate the amount of pleasure someone both gives and receives, and it sure is not what he focuses on in his sexual life with you, his partner. And, in fact, as his partner, how big or not his member is is also not what you focus on either. Frankly, you do not care much about what his size and width are, because what you do care about is how good sexual intercourse is with him, and that is something neither of you has any doubt about. Debito has never cared enough about the length of his member to actually measure it exactly, nor has he ever thought of comparing himself to other men. Of course, he is delighted to be above average, although it is a fact that is hard for him to brag about, but he would be just as satisfied if he was not. And, of course, you too are also not one to complain, as it does benefit you both during your late-night love-making sessions, but similarly to him, your opinion of Debito and his member would not have changed if it had been any different: you would have loved him all the same either way.
Mini Scene
It was relatively late into the night, but Debito and I could simply not find sleep. So, with nothing else to do, we lay underneath the sheets and cuddled with one another. And despite the low temperature surrounding us, the atmosphere in the room felt heavy, passionate: while our respective hands were busy giving love to the other's body, our respective lips were ardently kissing the other's, exhaling a few breaths every now and then, in between a few kisses.
But while our embrace was passionate, our gestures held no intention whatsoever to go any further: we were content enough cuddling against each other, without necessarily removing all of our clothes and deciding to have sex.
However, just as I was about to slip a hand under Debito's shirt, he unexpectedly pulled away from our lips and stared at me with a surprised expression.
"Oh Bambina, I just recalled something." He said with a peculiar enthusiasm.
"What is it?" I asked him, genuinely curious.
The smile that shaped his lips shifted into a smug smirk, a playful grin.
"Do you remember when you asked me how... big I am?" He said with a raised eyebrow.
Upon hearing his words, I could not help but open my eyes wider, just as my cheeks reddened.
"Wait, you took it seriously?" I asked him with a scoff. "I didn't actually want you to go and measure, Debito. I just asked you on the spur of the moment, you know—..."
"Well, I can't give you an exact measurement, but what I can tell you is that I'm bigger than Luca." He told me with a hint of pride in his voice.
I was now completely flushed, my eyes shut tight.
"Debito, I-I don't want to know about that—" I muttered with a sigh.
"But I don't measure up to Pace, though..." He continued in a bitter tone, ignoring my request to have him stop talking. "He's much bigger than me—"
I launched myself at him and covered his mouth with my hands, before I shut my eyes back, too embarrassed to look at him.
"Can we just— Go back to kissing in silence... please?"
One undeniable fact is that there is something extremely unique to Debito, something only he possesses, while also sharing it with others, including you, and that is his Arcana powers, granted to him by the Tarocco. His contract is with the card The Hermit, of which the stigmata is on his left ankle, hidden from the eyes of everyone, and with this power comes two abilities: Tra Coppo Scomparire, or Disappear Among Tiles, which allows him to turn himself invisible, and Odio Freddo, or Cold Hatred, which allows him to summon raining shards of ice to attack with. As someone who spends most of your days around Debito, you have come to notice that he does not activate his abilities often, not even during battles, which you found odd at first, but you quickly understood that it is part of his personality; he does not like relying on his Tarocco and prefers relying on his own skills, namely the use of his twin pistols. Additionally, Debito does not really have a use for his abilities on a day-to-day basis, primarily because they are not handy abilities for everyday life, unlike Pace's boost of strength, for instance. However, he does use them nonetheless, especially his power of invisibility, which he uses to disappear every now and then without leaving a trace, having become the usual reason behind his sudden absences; he also happens to use it in the weirdest contexts and under the oddest circumstances, such as whenever he uses it on you, to tease you and play around. And, furthermore, Debito would not be himself if he had not come up with a sexual way to use it as well: he likes to have a bit of fun turning invisible and toying with you, whether it be in public or private, by giving you secret touches, unseen to everyone but felt by you. One afternoon, while you were busy reading on his bed, he snuck into the room quietly, remaining invisible as he began to touch your body, until you realized what was going on.
Mini Scene
It was early in the morning, so Isis Regalo was relatively quieter and calmer than how loud and lively it was the rest of the day; nevertheless, it was still bustling with energy and entertainment. The gambling tables were starting to fill up, but the poker table was already full, with only one empty seat. And with a deep exhale, I looked around me in hopes of spotting him.
"I don't get it..." I whispered to myself. "He said he'd go get us some drinks, but since he headed for the bar, he's nowhere to be seen..."
Just as I turned my head to scan another corner of the room, a Coins member stood before me, looking down at me with a smile.
"Is something the matter, [Y/N]?"
"Oh, hum, it's... it's Debito, I can't seem to find him." I replied a little awkwardly.
"Oh, has the boss disappeared again?" He asked rhetorically with a chuckle. "Don't worry, I'm sure he won't be gone for long."
And with that, the subordinate walked away, leaving me to sigh once more.
"Well, I suppose I'll just wait for him to come back..." I murmured.
But the second I finished speaking, I suddenly felt a firm yet gentle hand land on my thigh, which made me twitch in surprise. And as the fingers started to go up and down my leg, I could clearly feel the fabric of the glove around the palm, leading my face to turn red.
"Debito, darling, it's way too early for this—" I let out quietly, assuming he was close enough to me to hear me.
Without knowing for a fact whether he had heard me or not, Debito's hand kept on caressing my skin under the table, his fingers slowly slithering underneath my skirt as I tried to keep my composure.
"... Miss [Y/N]?" The dealer suddenly called out to me, making me snap back to reality. "I asked you whether you wished to wait for Mr. Debito to come back to play or wished to start playing now."
As I grew even more flushed, I cleared my throat and my ears perceived a faint scoff, just beside me on the empty seat.
V) Volume: How loud he is during sex/what sounds he makes.
~~~~~~~~~~
When lying in bed with his partner, underneath the sheets, late at night, Debito is the type of man who doesn't produce sounds at a particularly high volume. During sex, he is, more often than not, quite talkative, as he appreciates talking to his partner, even if it's from the start of the act to the moment it ends; nevertheless, at other times, he can also happen to be relatively quiet. At the end of the day, it mostly depends on what mood he is in before initiating the intercourse, on what he went through during the day. But even when he does talk during sex, he always does it at a rather low volume, always deciding to whisper or, at best, speak softly: this is primarily because it allows for your shared senses of intimacy and privacy to strengthen, allowing both of you to truly stay present in the moment. If he wanted to, Debito would very well be able to speak loudly when talking dirty to you, but he refuses to do so by choice, because he does not necessarily see the appeal in being too loud, especially as someone who naturally expresses himself at a low pitch. When it comes to the types of sounds Debito makes during sexual intercourse, they are very limited: you have practically never heard him groan ever, and the one sound he produces the most are sighs, though it also occasionally happens for him to moan softly. This is especially the case when he finishes, leading his moans to be a notch louder. His volume rule applies to sounds as well, so he willingly decides not to be loud, which is what he prefers; if you had to give your opinion, you would say that your favorite sound of his is when he mutters your name in a sigh as he nears the edge. In regards to you, Debito is perfectly fine with both silence or words and sounds: either way, he enjoys sex with you just the same and never pushes you to keep quiet or be vocal, though he does enjoy hearing you say a few words every now and then.
Mini Scene
It was the middle of a hot summer night. The manor was plunged into darkness, everyone sleeping peacefully. Everyone but Debito and I.
Although it may have seemed quiet from the outside, all it took was a single peek inside Debito's bedroom to realize not every room was as calm as it appeared to be.
Inside the room, the two of us were lying in bed, sharing an intimate moment with one another as we were ardently making love to each other; despite the relatively high temperature in the room, we did not stop, we kept going, further drowning ourselves in burning desire. Although we had pushed the bedsheets aside, our naked bodies were nonetheless still sweating bullets. But it did not matter. Nothing truly mattered at that instant, except the love we shared with each other, the lust flowing through our bodies.
And as we lay there, our limbs shaking, our fingers exploring the other's body, our fingers clinging tightly onto the other's skin, we let ourselves grow intoxicated with the sound of our voices, echoing around us and throughout the bedroom as they bounced off against each other in perfect unison, in perfect rhythm.
Debito leaned forward and pressed his entire body against mine before he buried his head into my neck, his panting mouth letting out heavy sighs of pleasure, while occasional moans slipped through my lips. And as he moved his head slightly, going up to my ear, he sighed once more, this time all while murmuring my name sensually, sending shivers over the whole surface of my body.
But it also made me grin, grin with pleasure, grin with what felt like pride: Debito was far from being extremely loud whenever the two of us were having sex in bed, but he was nevertheless very vocal, whispering words of love to me throughout the act, all while punctuating them with frequent sounds he would let out. And to me, there was no greater satisfaction than hearing his warm, charming voice enveloping me whole, as he passionately told me he loved me.
It's in Debito's nature to have a playboy-like behavior with women, a playful personality that usually leads him to upset the people he meets due to how extroverted and extravagant he is: and since he doesn't always take everything seriously, he loves to joke around, even when he shouldn't, and he never gets tired of provoking others using both his words and his gestures. As a result, Debito is a huge tease with more or less everyone he meets and gets along with and does not hesitate to tease them daily, no matter what context they find themselves in or what the circumstances may be; that is just a part of his smug attitude. He is especially a tease when it comes to his partner, to you, who he simply loves to tease throughout your shared day-to-day life. However, Debito always makes sure to tease you in a way that will not result in grave consequences: when he decides to annoy you, he never does it in a mean way and always has heartfelt intentions. Additionally, Debito is also a tease on a romantic level, as in, to show you he loves you. While he obviously happens to tease you a lot when you two are together in private, it is moreover never an issue for him to act playful with you while you are in front of other people. After all, he knows well that you love to receive it, just as much as he loves giving it to you. Lastly, Debito often teases you on a sexual level as well, and the same rule applies here: he loves to tease you in public, purposefully doing it while other people are around both of you, by whispering lustful words of desire into your ears while his hands and fingers initiate a soft form of foreplay with various touches and gestures across your body. However, Debito makes sure to never tease you in public during inappropriate moments, since he would not want to embarrass you. And when in bed, he loves to tease you as well but never overdoes it for fear of making you feel too frustrated or upset.
Mini Scene
Once inside the casino, I made my way to one of the tables reserved for those who wished to stay away from the gambling tables and relax around a drink, which was exactly what I had intended on doing; sitting down on the U-shaped couch, I put my purse down beside me as I watched a member of the Coins division walk up to me, a tray in hand.
"Here's your order, [Y/N]." The man said with a grin as he set a glass down in front of me.
"Thank you." I told him with a light bow of the head.
I had not ordered anything, but I knew well where it came from: as the girlfriend of their boss, the Coins division gave me the same treatment they gave Debito, always acting politely toward me.
Just as I raised the glass to my lips, I saw Debito approach me, his hands in his pockets.
"Look at you, Bambina." He started with a chuckle. "Living like a queen, eh?"
"I suppose you could say that." I said, chuckling too.
He sat down beside me, close to me, his legs pressed against mine; one of his arms went over my shoulders while the other rested on the table.
"I'm glad you were able to come tonight, amore." He said as he turned to me, smiling charmingly. "And I'm glad you picked this dress..."
I giggled once more, this time feeling my cheeks turn pink.
"I know you like it." I told him as I stared into his eye.
Debito leaned closer to me as he grabbed my chin with two of his fingers.
"I do..." He murmured against my lips before kissing them.
As our lips met, I felt his free hand land on my legs, caressing the uncovered parts of my skin; but Debito must have decided there was not enough surface for his fingers to explore, as he started slipping them under my dress, slowly going up my thighs.
I moaned gently against his lips before I pulled away.
"Debito—" I let out in a whisper.
"Shhh..." He said as he put a finger on my lips.
With a lustful smile, he used his finger to part my lips before leaning close to them once more.
"... Don't let everyone else know what we're doing."
