Stare In Awe | Jean Pierre Polnareff x Reader
Oh I've been Ignoring this Darling too much
Just So You know You and Polnareff tend to share rooms on your travel, remember that lol.
Word Count: 2130
Stare in Awe
The fresh scent of linen strikes you first.
As you wake from your sleep you register the fresh, clean scent, and the fluffy warmth it fills you with makes you release a soft, content groan like your back at home.
Stirring, you then slowly open your eyes to be greeted with the sight of a pillow , the sham which is a color that is close to white, but off by just a tint is decorated with a moistened spot that turns your blissful mood somewhat sour.
With just a bit of frustration you use the palm side of your fist to wipe off the remains of your drool, and occasionally you release more little sounds of discontent, mostly due to how shitty you feel.
Your body is sore, aching almost everywhere as you sit up, and it's to a point you'd have an easier time pointing out the little spots that don't hurt vs what body parts of yours had been brutalized by that asshole before.
'Stupid Dio,' you think to yourself bitterly, 'Stupid Dio, and his stupid stand user band of assholes,' you add while moving on, by then rubbing your two tired eyes from what little buildup had decided to friend you throughout the sleep.
A little yawn leaves you, and it's then that there's movement in the bed you lay in.
Suddenly alert, you shoot your eyes right to your side and find one of your friends occupying the side of the large bed, and he's keenly watching you.
His azure eyes that are just as striking as the bluest sky connect with yours, and the softness in them hurls you into a feeling that has your face immediately blooming with sweet warmth that spreads all over you like the gentlest summer heat.
The smile he greets you with has you swooning like always, but now it's gone tenfold, maybe because you've been caught so off-guard .
-And that's not mentioning the somewhat rare sight of his hair in its natural state.
It holds the lightest touch of moisture, no doubt the aftermath of the blissful shower he’d been begging for, for a while, and that your glad he was finally able to get.
The silver strands are layered in a way that the front ends barely graze his sharp jaw, and the rest that falls behind his head nearly grazes his shoulders in a soft wave you wouldn’t be able to image if you hadn’t seen it given how he usually styles it.
It's a delicate ripple that has you mesmerized for a reason unknown to you, perhaps because it entices you to run your fingers through it.
Of course he’s always been attractive to you, but there’s something about his lazy look that has you especially affected.
“It’s about time you wake up,” he muses, “ I was starting to get bored,” he then states and it occurs to you that he’s caught sight of you problobly snoring away and with what was a considerable about of slobber on you as you woke up.
-And you’d be right to assume because he's been watching you the entire time, even longer than the few seconds you stare at him with surprise.
The realization flusters you, your immediate response being a rather abrupt facefall back into your pillow.
On your little travel, you let out a frustrated sound that is definitely a groan that morphs into a small squeal.
The sound of his soft chuckle warms your tummy, and while the man brings you so much comfort, so much sweetness, at that moment, it only makes you want to hide even more,
"Polnareff!" you huff out, "Quit Staring at me!" you cry out, your voice muffled by the pillow as you refuse to look up at him.
“-Don’t look at me,” you add quickly.
"And why not?" he asks, and even without looking you can swear he's pouting, he definitely sounds like it.
“I look like shit!” you say back, certain.
"Don’t be absurd,” he huffs, “You look lovely," he says back, and it does no good to you, it just makes you want to hide even more, all in spite of how wonderfully pretty you're beginning to feel.
"No I don't," you say back, stuffing your face so fully onto the fluffy pillow that you could very well suffocate yourself, "What's wrong with you?!" you ask, whining.
You wish you could just act normal.
You know,
- blush cutely and say something coy back. You always plan to, but never pull through because it's impossible to, especially not now when he's seeing you so...sloppy.
Your hair must be some sort of mess.
You're certain you look tired as you guys had only just gotten a break, and you know it hasn't been the best for your presentation, and that’s not mentioning the fight you had earlier.
Speaking of,
"How long have I been out?" you ask softly, remembering how you'd definitely beaten the breaks out of that loser before, but it hadn't been after they'd gotten a few good strikes in themselves.
You recall the end of the fight where you skipped using your stand, instead charging towards them, your right hand fisted and brutally swinging with what little energy you had left before you knocked out.
- Boy you were mad, mad enough to use your last bit of focus to connect angry hits.
"- Not long..." Jean Pierre admits, sounding soft.
"An hour, two...a day..." you trail off, wanting to know because anything was possible while on your little bizarre adventure.
"let's say about three hours," he tells you. "Maybe a few minutes too," he adds with a soft smile, and shyly, you peek at him, finally lifting up your head, but only a little.
" That long, huh?” you breathed, and you think that with all things considered, you were doing good.
“So...” you then hum, “Were you worried about me?" you ask, your voice small.
While he did fluster you, every now and then you played around with him, saying such silly things, and while it's to tease him, you itch for little affirmations back.
You were ashamed to admit that sometimes you fished for little signs he cared.
He released a little sigh, one that sounds rather amused, and he moves one of his hands close to you, luring you out more to where you finally lift your upper body up, propping yourself up by your elbows while your belly stays pressed against the mattress.
Your new position gives him a chance to graze his hand over your cheek, his thumb brushing over the side of your lip, the little winch you perform whilst the pad gently brushes over the lower cut spot encouraging him to offer you an even sweeter look.
“I brought you here,” he started, " And I made sure to clean your cuts, " he tells you.
You thank him, and it's not without you releasing a soft chuckle,
“...Of course you did,” you murmur because he’s always one to take care of you.
"Look how they left you ma cherie," he then says, and it's like he's hurt, himself.
"I'm alive aren't I?" you tell him, and you manage to offer him a little grin, one he appreciates, but it doesn't soothe the guilt and frustration he feels.
- He should have been there sooner, and he should have been the one to put that asshole down for just ambushing you like that, and much more insulting you the way they did.
'That vulgar... no good...' he couldn't let himself continue.
He couldn't even continue to recall all the disgusting things that lackey had said about you.
"Of course you are, " he said with eyes that admired you, " You're very strong.... capable too," he complimented you, and by saying so reminding himself that you are not just his sweet (f/n).
He has to remind himself that he can't always be there and that in spite of how much he cares about you, he'd do worse by treating you like you are useless and not an actual member of their crew.
You had your own role, and defiantly your own reasons that he respected, just like you’d honored his journey to avenge his sister.
“Stop...” you say while hiding your face again, falling down on the pillow with less frustration than before , and in place bashfulness that had made you forgot how beat up you were.
-And he’s living for it.
“And you’re so beautiful too,” he adds in a little murmur, stuck in awe, and it just has you steaming and swooning.
As he lays beside you, he continues to smile as he rolls a little bit and lays on his back.
His eyes are then distracted with the ceiling, but he only has you in mind, even while his sight is diverted.
“Too lovely (f/n),” he adds as he clasps his hands together, his thumbs twiddling as he speaks.
He glows a soft blush over his pale tone, and he can hear his heart beating in a way that almost deafens him, but its not enough to discourage him from his little confessions.
“Why are you saying this...” you say almost too quietly.
He’d been flirty before, playfully, but there was a certain touch to his words that had you thinking that something was going to change between you two real soon.
- And it had you thinking that maybe you weren’t crazy.
“I don’t know ….” he breathes, “ Maybe because I'm a fool,” he confesses as he closes his eyes.
“To think I'd embarked on this journey for something else... for revenge... for redemption.
- for sherry...for my love for her,” he starts with a little rambling, and there is pain in his voice before he swallows hard.
“Love...” he repeats with a different tone, yet another soft one that’s touched with a gentle flicker of hope, “ it’s love that has me here laying next to you,” He admits, and you swear your heart skipped a beat.
You hug your pillow strongly as you feel your heard try and make a mad dash right out your chest.
“Mhmm...” you respond, and you want him to continue so bad, just for a while longer as you steady your voice.
“It has me worried about you, about losing you so much that I act a fool,” he tells you. “I don’t know how it comes off : how I come off. “ he proceeds.
“ I believe in you, believe me I do,” he assures you.
“ You’re strong, more than capable of defending yourself,” he says with certainty.
“- But I can’t help stepping in and running to you,” Polnareff explains himself, having noticed the frustration you sometimes wore when he intervened. He’d noticed, and had wanted to address it.
“ I've got this bad luck that follows me, and I can’t tell you how much I've been dreaming of you, or morso, having nightmares of you meeting an end that I can prevent only if I'm there,” he says and as he speaks, his hand closest to you moves, and it blindly moves to lay beside you, hoping you’ll reach out, and you do.
As you feel it creep close, you take your own in a blind move of your own and lay it over his, holding it, silently urging him to tell more.
“That's why I jump at the chance to stay in a room with you... to share a bed. I’m a man of course, believe me, I'm not all sweet,” he admits wearily, though, truthful.
“Any man would would want to be close to the woman they yearn...but it’s also because when I have those nightmares... waking up to you next to me...close to me, it eases me.” he says with a thick swallow.
By then you’ve fully turned to him, laying on your side as you look at him tenderly, and he takes a chance to do the same, forcing him to let go of your hand.
“And I wake up...” he says, “I wake up... and I admire you. I do so and I just think about how beautiful you look, how much you take my breath away,” he muses.
Again, he caresses your cheek, and he offers you a little smile, “ I don’t know if I've made this obvious, but to answer your question, I'm saying all these things because... I lo..,” he seemed a bit troubled at first, like the final leap and big words were stuck in his throat.
-and you suddenly felt like you weren’t crazy.
There were obvious signs, but they were ones you couldn't accept, your uncertainty stemmed from an insecurity that had you afraid you misunderstood him.
you inched closer to him with a small, wormy movement, and he smiled just a bit more, his eyes glowing.
“I love you too,” you say to him not needing any more encouragement to just say it as you lean even closer.
While you do that his eyes flutter close, and instantly he seems to give in, waiting for your lips to reach him. He waits for the kiss, but instead the sweet press is offered to the tip of his nose, and the way he blushes at the contact has you giggling.
His eyes remained close and he’s taking in a slow breaths through his nostrils,
“Ma Cherie,” he exhales longingly,” You’re teasing me..” he speaks airily.
“After I've confessed to you, you’re teasing me so,” he said with a pout before opening his eyes again to look at you pleadingly.
“You didn’t confess anything,” you said with mirth, and the way your face brightened with playfulness had him excited.
“I told you ‘I love you,’ first,” you peeped out, and he nearly gasped, like he realized his mistake.
It happened so quick, and suddenly he was on top, having rolled the two of you over in a way that had you beneath him.
He doesn’t hold you down, but instead he’s just there, looking down at you with a touch of sternness in his playful demeanor,
“You’re absolutely right,” he tells you
“ How could i not tell you?” he asks.
“Say what?” you question him back, trying to will it out of him.
“-That I love you,” he said smoothly, and you wouldn't believe he had trouble before with how easily he admitted it then. It was like he’s used to telling you.
“I love you,” he said again, a kiss offered to your nose as a little tease back.
“I love you,” he said again, peppering them over you while muttering the words over and over, all while you were thrown into a fit of giggles.
As you enjoy yourself, laughing, in between the presses he looks at you, admiring you and finding you utterly precious.
MUAHAHA WRITTEN IN A FUCKING HOUR OH YES, GO MANIC ME