❝ i’m glad you found me when you did , doctor , but i cannot stay . . . ❞ his ribs are bandaged and he knows that his leg is more worse for wear than it already was but his responsibilities don’t stop because of injuries . he could use more rest and he knows that but its a long trip back since he was dragged to this place . . . wherever it is . it makes him a little nervous not knowing where he is , but he’ll figure it out with help . ❝ i should have never left the confines of my community , but things were getting a bit desperate . i do appreciate your kindness . ❞
blue eyes flicker up from the tea he’s been making. poured into the cup and then the other. “Repressed memory? Sure. If a certain trauma is bad enough i believe i’ve heard that the brain tends to shut it out as a defense mechanism.” paul grips both mugs and maneuvers around the counter to place the tea down in front of siddiq then takes the seat across from him. “Kinda like its just a way of protecting yourself. There something you want to talk about?”
❝ What do you miss most about a traditional Christmas? I’ve been trying to think of different things I miss like decorating the tree with beautiful white lights and shiny ornaments, but everything else is just related to the innocence of childhood and believing that a man in red flies through the sky with his reindeer to deliver presents to millions of children in one night. ❞ // @healsiick wanted a christmas themed started 🎄
Eric stood on the porch outside the house Siddiq shared with Rosita, Gabriel, and Coco, a box of supplies balanced against his hip. After several minutes with no answer, Eric tried the latch and found the door was unlocked. He pushed it in carefully.
“Hello? It’s just me…Eric!” He called, letting himself in and depositing the box on a table near the door. Just as he was turning to leave, he heard a noise from upstairs. “Siddiq?” He called again.
A muted groan answered him. Eric’s brows drew together in concern and he found himself moving towards the stairs. “Siddiq?” He called again. “Rosita? Gabe?”
No response.
Worried that one of them might be in trouble, Eric carefully ascended the steps, ears honed on anything that sounded out of the ordinary. Another muted groan from behind a partially closed door at the top of the stairs. Eric moved towards it, placing his hand on the knob. Pushing it open just a little more, Eric was about to call out once again when his eyes fell on the mirror. Or, perhaps more accurately, what the mirror was reflecting.
Siddiq was leaning against the wall, a towel snugly wrapped around his waist. His eyes were closed, head leaned back, mouth slightly ajar–completely lost in the moment. Eric’s eyes trailed down the doctor’s chest and stomach, feeling his groin twitch in response as he saw Siddiq’s hand down the front of the towel, stroking himself with vigor.
Eric knew he should get out of there. Quickly. Just close the door and tiptoe back down the stairs before Siddiq realized he was there, but as his eyes snapped back up to Siddiq’s face, he found those large brown eyes fixed on him in the mirror. He expected anger, embarrassment, some sort of disapproval from the doctor, but none of that was reflected. Siddiq almost seemed…intent on him, his hand never stilling as he worked himself closer to completion.
Face flaming red, Eric was frozen in place like a deer in headlights, unable to do anything but watch as Siddiq continued to pleasure himself. Dark brown eyes bore into Eric’s from the mirror, and the ginger felt his own arousal pressing against the front of his pants. Whether for his benefit or completely involuntary, Siddiq moaned. Hand moving with faster, surer strokes, Eric could tell he was nearing his peak.
Then the man was pushing off from the wall, approaching the door, reaching out. Eric was sure that Siddiq meant to open it, grab him, pull him in, and do something with him, but instead, the door slammed in his face.
Eric was mortified, yet oddly still aroused. He hurriedly made his way down the stairs, out the front door, and towards his house–avoiding eye contact with anyone he passed. With Gracie in school and Aaron outside the walls with Michonne, Eric went straight to the master bathroom, stripped off his clothes, and took the coldest shower of his life.
its dark. no one is around and both of them are sitting on the floor facing each other when there is a perfectly good bed not far away. no. this right here is actually kind of perfect. paul can’t quite remember the comment he made even if he only made it a minute or so ago because its lost under those eyes that stare back at him. they were among the first he remembers seeing when he awoke from the small coma he was in.
fingertips trail over the scar on his shoulder which only furthers the fogginess. what was said happened to be somewhere along the line that no one has ever figured him out and not many bothered trying. the touch and those words though? send chills into his bones that make both of those scars ache. “Am I... guess I might have to make it a challenge for you then huh?”
❝ i can’t remember the last time i did this with someone. ❞
𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚢, because she didn’t either. not because it didn’t mean anything, but because repressing those memories was far easier than remembering. she tried to keep her thoughts in the present, and the present only. her current present? sitting on siddiq’s couch, bare legs thrown over his, wearing stolen clothes from his drawers. it was good, it was light, it was s i m p l e. or at least she was trying for it to be that way. siddiq had a way with his words, a way with HER. it caused simplicity to go out the window, her stomach to flutter, her heart to swell. imagine admitting to that.
she sighed, though she smiled. ❝ good. ❞ rosita tugged onto his arm until she was able to pull herself up, legs now cradling his. her forehead met his and she could’ve stayed there forever. ❝ you only have to remember me. ❞
