You stumble into the rec room in the morning, not in uniform, hair a mess, bleary-eyed, and pouting. Immediately all the boys’ hearts shatter. You have an incredible effect to do that to them, whether with your pout or puppy-dog eyes that they still can’t resist.
You make a bee-line for Kyle who is currently pouring a cup of coffee, nearly stumbling on your pajama leg that’s too long and the fuzzy socks with no grips.
“Kyyyylle,” you whine, elongating his name. You shove yourself into his chest, head shoving into his sternum and arms wrapping around his waist.
“Hey, hold on—“ he immediatley puts down the mug in concern, “what’s going on, baby?”
“M’ head hur’s.” It’s muffled through his shirt, he can hear a tiny sniffle. “Think ‘m getting sick…”
His arms are instantly wrapped around you, you feel so secure and his biceps are huge and he smells so good—
You start crying. Your shoulders shake.
He pulls you away from his chest, forcing you to look at him to confirm what he thought. “Hey, baby, no, why are we crying? It’s okay.” He cups your cheeks, wiping away the tears.
Your lip wobbles, “I love you so much!”
He pauses. “You’re…you’re crying because you love me so much?”
“Mhm!” You nod aggressively.
He can’t help but break into a small smile and giggle. He pulls you back into his chest, “okay, sweetheart…it’s gonna be okay.” His hand is caressing the back of your head.
He makes eye contact with the others, letting them know he’s got this. They start to make your breakfast for when you calm down.
