It had been decided, Robert Reynolds, Bob, would be permitted to leave the tower. Finally after almost a year of counseling and on and off training sessions he was being included in field operations.
You offered him a lopsided smile as you lowered the heat on the pan and wiped your hands on the front of your apron fully turning to take him in. You really couldn’t help the laugh that left your lips as you saw the man before you seemingly trying to fold in on himself. He looked everything but excited, more like a cat that had been harnessed and was about to be thrown out into the world for the first time.
“ I-I’m just not sure I’m…100 percent ready you know. “
He shrugged as he hid his hands in the oversized sleeves of his shirt, but even through the fabric you could already see the nervous fidgeting. His eyes darted left and right, up and down, unsure where it would be safe to rest. You noticed whenever Bob was about to say the worst things about himself he was always reluctant to look you in the eye.
“ Robert Reynolds.”
At the sound of his full name he stiffened, just like a cat that had been spooked and you swore you could hear him gulp down his negative comments. His fingers flexed but they remained at his side refusing to nervously tear at the already sensitive skin surrounding his nails.
“ Give yourself a little more credit bud, I know it’s sometimes a little hard to step back and see our accomplishments but you good sir. You have come a long way from where you started and you should be very proud of that. “
You turned away from him but not before seeing the tops of his ears burn red in embarrassment.
Your attention shifted to the dishes piled up high in the sink and with a sigh you motioned him to step forward and help you. You could have thrown them in the dishwasher, but truth be told you hated those things and washing dishes by hand was always therapeutic. It was also something mundane, something ordinary that Bob had quite taking a liking to helping you with as well.
He stumbled towards the sink , arms raised already memorizing the routine and you without skipping a beat leaned forward and rolled his sleeves up before handing him the dish towel.
“ I guess I could only play Rapunzel for so long. “
“ Bob, even Rapunzel left her tower. I’ll give you a cast iron skillet if it would make you feel better.“
“ Will you be my Pascal. “
“ Only if I’m allowed to sit on your shoulders. “
You splashed him and the both of you shared a couple laughs, while the tension hadn’t completely left him it was at least a little better and those negative words Bob had thought about throwing at himself had burst like the bubbles in the sink.
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After the first mission it was like a bomb had been set off. The team remained busy and poor Bob was strung along without a chance to breathe or even think for that matter. Valentina called it public exposure therapy, aka the team really needed to be seen publicly and garner good press.
For the majority of your time, there was not much you could do but cook for yourself and the furry friends that had been entrusted to your care while everyone else was away. It became quite boring quite fast and on many days you found yourself pacing Bob’s little reading nook dusting the area for what seemed to be the 50th time.
You didn’t want to admit it, but the absence of Bob was felt. While you had been around the team, they would come and go whenever they pleased, but Bob remained a constant presence and now you were missing that presence.
On days where the harsh words of your own conscious were too much to take ; normal, boring, plain - you would take yourself out to explore the city. You would immerse yourself, exploring the food scene discovering what new recipes or ingredients you could bring to the team. You thought about Bob and at the end of everyday, you would bring something back to the tower that reminded you of him.
Sometimes a book, a bookmark, or maybe some teas you thought would help Bob through his sleepless nights or lazy mornings. Sometimes you would even take cuttings from local flowers and press them into the pages of the books you brought home for him. On days you didn’t feel like wondering out, you would leave sticky notes around his nook.
‘ The ole lady said this recipe was good for sore throats . ‘
‘ This one is good for sniffles. ‘
‘ Hearty, packed with potatoes. You like potatoes. ‘
‘ I am Pascal and Pascal is me. ‘
‘ I miss Rapunzel. ‘
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Where he had found you had surprised him. Body curled up in the sofa chair located in his reading nook, head pressed to your chest in what looked to be an uncomfortable sleeping position. A small bubble of drool at the corner of your lips, and one of the books he had finished before leaving on these publicity missions cracked open in your lap.
The more he let his eyes wonder the more he discovered. What had been an empty coffee table beside the chair was now stacked high with a pile of books. Titles he hadn’t seen in his collection before leaving, books that had also been decorated in sticky notes. He picked one up.
‘ Spice cake, Bob likes cinnamon. ‘
‘Saw a cat, looked like Bob. ‘
‘ New shop on 5th, Bob might like. ‘
‘ Weighted blanket for Bob. ‘
Every sticky note was addressed to him and the more he read the more the warmth in his chest grew. It felt full, like at any moment it could burst and he couldn’t help the prickle at the corner of his eyes .
Cause never in his life, did Bob think that he would have someone waiting for him. Someone missing him, who wanted him around so often to do mundane things with like wash dishes, or cook. You were the most normal abnormal thing in his life and he couldn’t help the awful bad thoughts asking him “ Until when? “
“ As long as you’d like.”
He jumped not realizing that he had asked out loud and you grinned as you smacked your lips then closed your eyes and went back to blissful sleep. Your body sinking further into the couch, as if finally finding the perfect state of peace.
As long as he’d like. He smiled as he sat with his back against the couch, laying his head on the tops of your legs where you instinctively ran your fingers through his curls. His eyes closed and all the tension he had felt these past few weeks melted away.
Sometimes after the scramble of everyday life had been knocked back a notch, you would sit across from him. Always tucked under cushions and pillows and a comforter that was just a little older than you. Your feet crossed while you silently scrolled through web archived cook books picking through the sweets guarded in an oversized pocket.
It was a comfortable arrangement where even though words were scarcely shared you didn’t mind. Just a space where two friends coexisted with each other, just a presence that helped alleviate loneliness.
Occasionally when you glanced up from your phone you would witness him, completely entranced by whatever book he adopted for the week. His eyes squinting, nose scrunching as he greedily took in the small print. He had his habits when the words excited him, his thumb nail flicking over the tops of his fingers his tongue swiping at the bottom of his lip.
And then there were times when you had seen the excitement vanish with his eyes stagnate on one page for too long. His brows would furrow, lips quirking down at the corners into a frown. Back and forth you could see the blues of his eyes swing but it was like no matter how many times he read a line he just couldn’t concentrate long enough to know the outcome.
It was in those moments that you would notice Bob become small, his eyes glancing up from the pages looking confused, distraught. It was like in those moments, he couldn’t stop all the negative thoughts in his mind from bleeding into the pages of the books he read.
You hated it, the way it came so suddenly at times, unprovoked and unexpected. He could go from being so at peace to fighting with his inner demons at the drop of a hat. You hated the helplessness, hated how the emotions flashed until there was nothing but revulsion for himself reflected back.
“ Bob, read to me.”
He flinched instinctively, like hearing your voice had woken him from whatever inner monologue or deprivations the Void had been whispering to him. Before he could protest , you had already collected your cushions and comforter dumping them at the foot of the chair he had been sitting at. You had taken a seat, leaning heavily against the foot rest head tilted back eyes connecting with his own.
And the two of you would share a moment, eyes dancing, his hiding and yours searching before he would finally cave. His head snapping back to the book, shoulders shooting up as if trying to hide the warmth that colored his cheeks and ears.
“ W-Why? “
His hands shook as he gripped the book before meeting your gaze again. You really didn’t know how to say ‘ because, because when you read and you’re happy I too am happy even if i don’t know the story but when you’re sad. When you give me that lost look, filled with such negative emotions directed to yourself and I don’t know where you’ve gone. I want to go there with you. I want you to never feel alone again. ‘
You wouldn’t say all that though, only insist he continue while offering the better half of your ratted comforter and a half melted Lindt truffle as payment.
After a pause and after he devoured the offered chocolate in no time he would exchange a lopsided smile and take a breath before reading out loud. The warmth he felt from embarrassment would spread, changing into something much more welcoming. A softness that engulfed him, penetrated the cold dreadful thoughts and insecurities in his bones until they were no more.
In this space occupied by two people, it became a gentle white murmur . His fingers would occasionally crinkle the Lindt wrapper and you would hum softly in reply to what he had just read you, fingers picking at the comforter.
dededos
origamiaround
janainaart
turnnoffyourmind
dailybridgerton
kaledo-art
prguitarman
romaincrisis