Remy thought that he didn't deserve love, not after everything he's done. But, when Emile walked through the door to room 127, Remy's heat skipped a unexpected beat.
Warm Fuzzies
Warnings: Implied near Death Experience, Hospital
Remy thought that he didn’t deserve love, not after everything he’s done. But, when Emile walked through the door to room 127, Remy’s heart skipped an unexpected beat.
How could it not when the six-year old’s whole face lit up like a Christmas tree upon seeing him?
“REMY!” Emile cried, his chocolate colored wings fluffing up as he pulled free from Anton’s grip and practically flew, his little wings flapping hard enough that he nearly did fly, across the hospital room towards his bed.
Remy barely had time to push himself upright, hiding a wince as his own newly grown wings unexpectedly spread out to balance him just as he caught the bundle of energy that was Emile, holding him close as the kid buried his head under Remy’s chin, his small arms wrapping around his neck in a grip tight enough that he doubted Anton would be able to pull Emile free even with a bribe of cartoons on the docket.
Emile sighed, relaxing as Remy’s own blue-grey wings moved of their own accord to wrap around him in a protective shelter of feathers. “You’re okay.” He whispered.
Remy shakily inhaled, squeezing Emile tighter as his heart skipped another beat that he desperately hoped Anton didn’t notice on the monitors. It really wasn’t fair that those two words could send such a wave of–of he didn’t know what–Emile would probably call them warm fuzzies, through him.
But then again, Remy had never had…well anyone really, who had been truly happy to see him before this kid had burst into his apocalyptic lifestyle with a cheerful smile and a friendship bracelet.
“Course I’m okay, kid.” He whispered, running his fingers over the edge of one of Emile’s wings, checking them over to reassure himself that he wasn’t injured.
Remy glanced up to Anton who hovered in the doorway, eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. “I ain’t gonna go nowhere.”
Because despite his best–worst?–intentions to keep himself distant from everyone and everything…he had grown rather attached to this little fluffy ball of sunshine.
Attached enough to risk his own life for the squirt without a second thought for himself or his morning coffee that was probably still splattered somewhere on the sidewalk eight blocks away.
Anton quirked the corner of his lips in a tiny smile, giving the barest of nods before he stepped outside, shutting the door behind him with a soft click.
Acceptance.
Emile pushed up onto his knees, grabbing Remy’s face in his small hands so he could look him directly in the eyes. “Promise?” He asked, bottom lip trembling.
His wings, still aching from how they’d burst from his back only hours earlier, flapped once. “I promise, squirt.”
Emile grinned that special smile he had to make the warm fuzzies flutter in Remy’s chest and pressed his forehead against his. “Good.” The tips of his small wings brushed Remy’s cheeks causing his heart to again spasm hard enough that the monitors screeched a warning.
How had he gotten so lucky? How had Emile ever known that he could take a washed up nobody and turn him into–
Well…he wasn’t sure yet…but Remy hoped he would be somebody Emile would always want to be around.
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