Skyeward and 1 or 9 pretty please :3
(It’s 1, do you want 9 as well?)
“Hey,Robot,” Skye’s voice breaks through the mist fogging his mind. “Good morning!”
Withconsiderable effort, he opens his eyes, just to see her smile down at him,elbows resting on the edge of his bed. Damn, she looks beautiful.
“What…” hestarts, but his throat dry, scratchy. Almost immediately there’s a straw infront of him; he sips at the water gratefully, the cool liquid soothing him,then he clears his throat and tries again. “What happened?”
“You wereshot,” she replies, reaching out to sweep a lock of hair away from hisforehead. “You lost a lot of blood, and had us worried for a moment, but youdoc says you’ll be good as new in no time.”
He feelsweary, exhausted, but sort of giddy, and he just can’t keep himself fromsmiling at her.
“And you’vebeen here with me, waiting for me to wake up?” The words are out before hecould think them over, and some tiny part of his brain is nagging him that heshouldn’t have said that, but he just doesn’t care.
She smilesback at him, and he can’t tell she’s struggling not to laugh – he doesn’texactly get why, but he doesn’t even bother, because she’s so damn pretty whenshe smiles.
“Yeah,” shereplies. “I wanted to see how loopy the drugs would make you.”
Oh; he’s onpain meds. Of course, it explains everything – the absence of pain despite thegunshot wound, the giddiness, and that he doesn’t seem to have control overwhat he’s saying.
“I see,” hedrawls. “I guess very loopy.”
Thisfinally breaks her and she laughs out loud.
“Very, veryloopy.” She squeezes his hand. “But loopy Ward is adorable.”
He wants tochuckle with her, but instead he finds himself saying “Well, you’re alwaysadorable – not just when you’re loopy. And you are so, so beautiful, I just…”He closes his eyes for a moment. “…I should just stop talking.”
Sheactually bows her head, her forehead touching the back of his hand, hershoulder shaking with suppressed laughter.
“No, no,you really should continue,” she tells him, raising her head once again,looking into his eyes – damn, she has beautiful eyes. Like dark chocolate. “Ijust wish I had a camera with me to record it.”
“And Iwish…” His gaze wanders to her lips. “I wish I could kiss you. Can I kiss you?”
A part ofhim – a more sober part – expects her to laugh at him, but instead her amusedgrin turns into a warm smile. She doesn’t say a thing as she stands up andleans over him. His heart skips a beat – he is pretty sure he can even hear theheart monitor fall out of rhythm –, fully expecting her to grant his whish andkiss him, but then her lips press against his forehead instead of his mouth.
It takes hima considerable amount of willpower not to pout or whine.
“Let’s getback to it when you can take full responsibility for your actions again,” shesays once she stands up. “I’ll go now, tell Coulson and the others that you’reup.”
“But it’snot off the table?” he asks from her retreating form. She turns back from thedoor.
“Not atall. I mean as long as you don’t seduce any nurses while I’m gone.”
He smileslike an idiot as she leaves the room, already imagining how that half-promisedkiss from her would feel. (Okay, he really is on good drugs.)
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