i miss you⠀⋆⠀devin booker.
⋆⠀author's note & warnings: another draft i need to get rid of, semi edited don't look too closely. fluff (you/your), language potentially. read more for #1⠀⋆⠀series masterlist.
You were sure your voice sounded terrible. It had that raspy, sandpaper quality that came with a head cold and the feeling of pain every time you swallowed. You sniffled loudly into the phone. “And now I sound like this,” you muttered, half to yourself.
On the other end, Devin chuckled softly, deeply, quietly. You could tell he was tired, his adrenaline finally receding after a game in Atlanta. “Baby girl,” he murmured, “you could sound like one of those anti-smoking commercials, and you’d still be the prettiest thing I ever heard.”
You rolled your eyes, though you knew he couldn’t see it, and curled deeper into the nest of blankets on your oversized sectional. Outside, Phoenix’s skyline glittered through the windows, the purple, deep blue, and orange watercolors indifferent to your plight. “I’m just annoyed by the fact that I couldn’t go,” you grumbled, voice thick with congestion. “I was looking forward to that restaurant. I got a bunch of videos on my For You Page about it, and I was going to post, like, a bunch of pics on IG.”
Devin’s laugh was muffled, like he’d pressed his face into a pillow. “Baby, you act like that place might disappear tomorrow,” he said, voice warm with that slow, unhurried drawl of his. You could picture him sprawled across some hotel bed, plain white tank over a pair of sweats, one pillow clutched under his arm, phone balanced in his hand. “Ain’t no rush. We’ll go when you’re better. Hell, I’ll make it up to you when I get home… take you twice.”
You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “Yeah, but I wanted to go now,” you whined, then immediately regretted it when your throat protested. You coughed, wincing, and reached blindly for the tea on the side table that was lukewarm now, but still sweet on your tongue. “Ugh. This sucks.”
“You always want shit now,” he teased. “Like when you saw them heels last month and texted me ‘baby I need these’ at 3 AM.”
You huffed, pouting dramatically even though he couldn’t see it. “First of all, I did need those,” you croaked, then sniffled. “Second, their menu changes seasonally, Dev. What if they take the truffle gnocchi off before I get to try it?”
“Then I’ll buy a damn truffle and learn to make gnocchi,” he said, so casually you could almost see the shrug from the sound of his voice alone. “You think I won’t?”
“Do you know what gnocchi is?” you rasped, pressing your fingertips to your temple.
Devin made an offended noise. “Do you want the shit or not?”
“Baby, I love you, but the last thing I need is you burning the fuck out some mushrooms in my very expensive kitchen,” you muttered, letting your head fall back against the couch cushions. The ceiling fan spun lazily above you, casting uneven shadows across the room.
Devin exhaled, long and slow, and you could picture him running a hand over the lower half of his face. “Fine, alright,” he said finally. “Then I’ll just slip the chefs a couple hundred to make it special for you.”
You smiled despite yourself, tucking your cold feet further beneath the throw blanket. “Never beating the allegations.”
Devin’s chuckle was lazy. “Allegations?”
“Don’t worry about it. You bribe the chefs, I’ll stand behind my man,” you rasped, grinning when Devin laughed softly.
Silence settled over the two of you for a few moments. Then you heard him taking a slow breath before finally speaking up. “Wish you were here,” he added softly.
You knew he hated road games, hated waking up in strange beds without you snoring in his ear, hated missing the way you pushed him away in your sleep when you got too warm. You missed the weight of his arm slung over your waist, his nose pressed into the curve of your neck, following when you rolled over in the middle of the night, and the half-asleep mumble of, “Baby… back, come back,” when you drifted too far to your side of the bed.
You smiled into your mug filled with tea, pressing your lips together to clear your throat and keep yourself from coughing again. “Yeah, well,” you murmured, “you’d just complain I’m getting germs all over your side of the bed.”
“Nah. I’d let you sweat all over me. Wrap you up till you couldn’t move.”
You let out a weak laugh. “You say that now,” you cleared your throat, “but you’d be peeling me off you by midnight.”
Devin hummed. “You ever seen me let go of something I want? Exactly. So stop actin’ like I wouldn’t deal with your sniffly ass in bed. Love you sick, love you healthy, love you when you’re stealing the covers.”
You sneezed through your nose, the sound wet and unflattering. You wished he were next to you now, making fun of your scratchy voice and your tiny sips of cold tea. “You’re lucky I’m too weak to argue with you,” you muttered with an air of fondness.
“Nah, you just love me too much to argue forreal. You know I mean that shit,” he countered, voice low and warm, and you rolled your eyes again, even as your lips curled into a smile.
You shifted on the couch, wincing as your sore muscles ached with the movement. You could hear Devin breathing softly on the other end of the line. “Tired?”
“Dead tired,” Devin admitted, his words slurring slightly with exhaustion. “Shit’s finally hitting me. I should be home with my baby instead of staring at this ceiling.” The mattress creaked faintly as he shifted, and you imagined him stretching his long legs out, settling deeper into the mattress. “You picked up some NyQuil?”
You wrinkled your nose at the thought. “Baby, you know I don’t do that stuff.” You took a sip from your tea again, letting the sweetness coat your throat before you continued. “I got tea, soup, and I’ll sweat the rest of this fever out tonight.”
Devin hummed, finally giving in to the pull of sleep, his voice dropping to a mere whisper. “Mmm. You better.” There was a rustle then a yawn before he added, barely audible, “Call me if you need me, beautiful.”
You exhaled, letting the silence settle in before you replied. “I will. Get some sleep. I love you.”