i hope this doesnt make me sound ungrateful but i always wish i was perceived as sexually attractive. the compliment i get the most is being called cute and i definitely appreciate it but damn i want someone to tell me im so sexy they want me to rip their clothes off is that too much to ask 😕
You had walked this hallway countless times, yet this time you missed the little step. A breath hitched in your throat that threatened to turn into a yelp. You held in that yelp and tumbled down, the stack of books flying from your hands as you fell. Bracing your arms in front of you, you hit the ground with your books scattering. You let out a breath of annoyance following the pain.
One of the most powerful sorcerers of all time, and she tripped over a stair.
A long, frustrated sigh came out of you. Did that seriously just happen? You were so relieved no one saw that. Ungraceful and chaotic. You were having a good day today, all relaxed and slow due to the calm to do list for the day, but now you were grumpy. You regather your composure, and pick up your books as well as your dignity.
While you walked back to the library, upon your first step, a pain protested. Your ankle emitted a soft pain every time you put a little pressure on it. Oh great, you thought. It was not broken, it did not hurt like a broken bone. You did not think you sprained it, the fall just rolled it a little. Whatever it was, you did not think it was serious. You could walk, that was all that mattered.
To help, you channeled a little magic through your body, only a small amount, to ease the pain a bit so you could walk a little straighter. As if it never happened, you continued your way on to the Sanctum library. The only sound that echoed through the hallways was the creak of the floorboards, but in your head all you heard was 'ouch' every step.
The library was dead silent, except for the faint crackle of the fireplace. Stephen sat at a table, completely engrossed in the book open in front of him. He's been reading the same one since you left to grab the ones in your hands, and since you found him this morning. He was now half way through the thick volume, the bookmark was sticking near the beginning when you first saw it. Must be a good one.
His eyes flicked up when he heard your footsteps, acknowledging you coming back. He smiled at you. The corners of his lips pushing up past that beautiful cupid's bow shape, the crinkles by his eyes making it genuine.
You returned it. Walking across the room to the table, there was a sharp pain that jolted through your ankle and up your shin. The magic must have worn off, or you got distracted. Then you realized Stephen was the distraction. After all this time, he still had that affect on you. You ignored the little warmth threatening to crawl up your neck, and tried not to show the pain.
"You're limping."
Regardless of your efforts, you must have stumbled. Must have been very subtle for you to not notice yourself. But he did. How is he so good at noticing little things that are not normal. You cursed his ability to do that.
He stood up, his chair screeching as it was pushed back. "What happened."
"Nothing." You pressed. Like it was nothing, as it was, you continued walking and put your books down on the table. You tried to ignore him. Your subtle limp was now obvious.
Stephen was suddenly at your side. "You're hurt, what happened?"
You rolled your eyes. It was a contrast to the serious look on his face. "I just rolled my ankle."
"How?" Before you could answer, Stephen braced your shoulders and with a flash, teleported you to the couch by the fireplace. He forced you to sit down and was instantly untying the laces on your boot.
"Stephen, I'm fine."
He was not listening. It was like he did not hear you. He was so focused on getting your boot off. Doctor mode, you realized. Soon it was off, and he felt around your ankle, removing your sock and pushing up the edge of your leggings. "How did you roll it?"
This is ridiculous, you thought.
"I just tripped on the step in the hallway."
"It's a little red," He was speaking as if not to inform you, but to himself. Doctor examination, assessing an injury so he can figure out what to do next. "small amount of swelling."
Oh God help me, you thought, now annoyed.
His fingers pressed on the swelling lightly, a spark of pain. It was tolerable. Then his eyebrows furrowed together. Without warning, and a flick of his fingers, a warmth spread and left before a bigger spark of pain. He removed your magic from it. Now you felt something. It must have shown in your face, for he narrowed his eyes in suspicion.
"That spell only suppresses pain, (Y/N). It doesn't help with healing."
You opened your mouth, to tell him to stop. To not to worry. But in an instant he was gone. That damn teleportation spell he loved to use. Before you could complain about it, he was back with bandage wrap in one hand and an ice pack in another. You slumped down in defeat. You let him tend to your foot. You felt like a five-year-old.
"Why are you so protective?" It came out a little more harsh than you meant. The look on his face told you that it landed a bit wrong.
He looked up from his work, the bandage now half wrapped around your ankle. His stare was cold. "Because you can be careless." He pulled the bandage a little tighter. Pain shot out of your ankle. Not too much, just enough to emphasize his point.
"That's a dumb answer."
He let out a sharp breath out of his nose, a huff, annoyance. At your stubbornness. He finished up the job in silence. Wrapped neatly, like he had done it countless times. He probably has. The ice pack was placed over top, and the cold seeping through the fabric of the bandage and soothing the pain right away.
Finally, he stood back up. "Stay off it for a while."
You sat there, arms crossed over your chest, staring at your foot. You did not really want to look at him. You did not need him babying you. You managed five years on your own, carrying everything on your shoulders. The thought of that gave a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach.
Stephen sat down beside you on the couch. "(Y/N), I'm protective because I'm sorry."
You finally looked at him, a little tilt to your head in confusion.
He continued, "I was gone for five years."
It was like he read your mind.
"I'm here now. I want to make it count." He placed a delicate kiss on your forehead, "I just want to be there for you."
You smiled, seeing the meaning behind this new over-protective nature. He was always protective, that urge was stronger now. You could not blame him. It all made sense. And it was sweet.
You leaned over and kissed him, a hand cupping his cheek softy. "Thank you, but really it's minor."
"Still give it a rest. It will be fine if you do. Walk on it and it will get worse."
"Okay," You braced yourself to stand and hopped on one foot. "I need my books though."
A strong hand rested on your shoulder and pushed you back down on the couch, "Sit. I'll get them for you."
