“Why does that matter baby? Not like you’re a serial killer.” ⋆.𐙚 ̊
Your boyfriend came over- unannounced at an ungodly hour- again, like most times before. Or well, all the time really. He always has a night shift and considering he’s weirdly secretive about what he does, your sympathy reaches its limits. This time he’s here with your favorite takeout and a whispered promise of “next time I’ll be earlier” to soothe you, though both of you know it won’t be held. To his dismay, you decide to get payback for your wasted time, by choosing the show of the night. Alas how you two ended up on the couch discussing Dexter. Or well, Dexter’s habits really. You tried to steer the conversation away, really you did. Discussing a serial killer wasn’t on your to-do list for the night. But for some reason he’s hellbent on getting an answer to his question, when all you wanna do is cuddle in his arms, and forget the world even exists for the next couple of hours.
“Seriously baby, I don’t see how it matters what I’d do if I was Rita. I mean I’d never date him to begin with, I would always be totally in love with you.” It’s a half truth, or well full truth, but you’re mainly saying it, in order to divert his attention from the topic at hand to you and your affection and then maybe the cuddles if you play your cards right and- fuck he still got that expression on his face.
“Why can’t you just answer the question?”
“Babyyyyyy” you groan more than you say.
If it was any other conversation with you, he would have found amusement at your tired antics and would ignore the way his heart traitorously beats faster at any nickname that came out of your pretty lips. But this - this is different. He needs a clear answer.
“Sweetheart, I’m serious” he says, his voice lower now, the kind of tone that makes your chest tighten. His knee bounces once before he stills it.
He sees the way your face drops further, the earlier playfulness etched from your features replaced by confusion and- was that slight agitation?
“What does it matter what I’d do if I was Rita? My boyfriend isn’t a killer, is he?” His body tenses for a moment but you don’t notice, too busy trying to speak some sense into him.
“Nor do I have kids or an abusive ex husband. So it doesn’t matter.” It’s really harder to focus on this conversation without getting annoyed, considering it’s almost 5 am. You’re tired and he looks it too, even if he isn’t admitting it. He just won’t let it go. Not to forget you didn’t get a proper kiss, or any affection yet.
“It … it matters cause I wanna get an interest in your …. Morals?” Fuck, why couldn’t he come up with something better.
“My morals?” A hint of the earlier playfulness reaches your tone again. Damn it.
“Yes, your morals”
“Well sorry to disappoint Jason, but I don’t think I know”
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“I don’t know”
“Wow. Super helpful.” he’s getting snappy. and here you thought he didn’t like the show.
“I mean … it’s scary. To think someone you love isn’t the person you think they are”
he swears he could hear his heart shatter in thousand little pieces, right now, in this moment.
“Doesn’t mean I’d stop loving him or something. I mean, Dexter usually kills people who he deems deserve it yknow?” A yawn slips past your lips. “The ones that slip through the system and all. This code thing Harry tought him. Though I have to say Harry is such an ass, I mean who-“
Your name drops from his lips again. A little stern but not harsh. He’d never be harsh with you, no matter what.
“You’re rambling.”
“Gee, you really want that answer, huh?”
“Yes”
“And what are you gonna do with it ?”
“Just answer baby, humor me. I’m curious.” He says it, he really wants to look it. But he can’t hide the nervousness cursing through his body and you can’t help but notice the intensity in his gaze. The way his jaw is clenched. The stiffness of his body language. It is something you notice every single time, like a sixth sense. The reason why though- still oblivious to you. Instead of asking, you decide to soothe him; and hey isn’t it a perfect opportunity to finally lay down? You move on the couch, sitting closer to him, so that your legs touch. You take his hand, carefully, as if it was porcelain, the callouses scraping against your palm. When he looks at you, you offer a soft smile and even though you expected him to be amused at the caress, the hard edge around his mouth loosens instead. With a soft ”thud” he lays his head on your lap, heavier than you expected. Better than nothing, you think and stroke his hair. His dark curls glide softly through your fingers, warm and still lightly damp from the night air. For a moment it’s as if the world was standing still.
Boom. Just like that you fixed his heart. Again. Like all the others times. He wonders if you know it yet, that you’re his little guardian angel. a real fucking annoying one. But not like he’d have it any other way.
“If I was Rita and knew about his.. secret”, you start saying softly, still combing trough his hair with your fingers, “I don’t think I would let him go”.
“Pfftt, thats idiotic”
Irritated at his response you flick his forehead, to which you gain a glare. “ughh you wanted an answer, didn’t you?”
“Yea but not such a-”, he wanted to say something snarky, but with the way your hands move on his scalp he can’t think properly. And if you really mean what you said then- damn you.
a beat of silence follows and you feel him getting more relaxed in your lap, leaning further into your touch.
“Why?” He suddenly asks, looking up at you, with an expression you can’t read.
“cause… if I love someone, I love them fully. Flaws and all. It makes it really hard to let go, yknow? I might get freaked out, but ultimately.. he’s a good guy.” His eyes widen, and for a moment all he does is look at you, dazed almost. He doesn’t say anything, instead he sits up and holds you in a tight embrace. His breath catches once against your neck, before he buries it there. Finally he’s satisfied.
Against your skin he mutters, ever the smartass, “I don’t think you could call the urge to kill a flaw though”
“I dont think it makes him a monster either”
He hums, holding you tighter. How he managed to deserve you, he doesn’t know. So it’s no surprise he says “You’re weird”
“Then you are too, for dating me”
“Guess so”, he answers, pressing a gentle kiss to your neck.
“We should sleep”, he whispers. Then after a beat he adds, “I won’t be late next time”.
“Riiight”
later when he tells you about his “nightly activities”, barring his heart out for you to catch, he refers back to this conversation as the reason for why he trusts you with it ⋆.𐙚 ̊ ᥫ᭡
Tomorrow (Friday) at 9:00PM GMT The Owl House: Reanimated is going to premiere! I'm so happy I got the chance to work on this project---which has been YEARS in the making, but I only joined last summer!
All of the animators that contributed are absolutely incredible, and they deserve all your appreciation and support!! :)
I'll be there for the release, and I hope you are, too!
CHARLES EXPLAINING THE ISSUE BOTH LEWIS AND HIM HAD IN Q2/Q3 | 07.03.26
"basically, the car is learning based on the previous laps. with the issues we've had in q2, the red flag in q3 the only base we had was q1, so then coming into q3 we weren't exactly optimal"
