Stay cringe

Shaundi tilts her head, a bemused expression on her face as she takes in the ridiculous flush already creeping across his cheeks. This can’t be the same man who helped bury Shogo alive… but then, that’s Tito all over. A wrecking ball with the romantic constitution of a deer in the headlights.

She laughs as she leans in a little closer, giving him some of the room he needs while staying close enough to catch him if he tries to bolt. “That? That was kissing you, dummy. Or I was trying to, ‘til you ruined it with all that... flailing. Don’t worry,” she teases, pitching her voice down to a conspiratorial whisper. “I won’t tell anyone. Your big, broody rep is safe with me.”

“You… are such an asshole,” he whispers back, voice low and uneven, rubbing a calloused palm roughly over the blush he can feel searing his face. Fucking humiliating. Tito groans, shakes his head in disbelief that he’s even letting this happen. “Caught me off guard. Just…” His voice dips, again, muttering more to himself than to her. “Slow. Don’t make a thing of it.”

Shaundi blinks, a little taken aback, but she recovers fast. She’s done this a thousand times, a thousand ways, with a thousand guys who weren't nearly as nice looking. So she sucks in a breath and nods.

First-timer. The thought sends a little thrill through her, a buzz that’s all too familiar, but the grin that accompanies it is as sincere as the hand she has fisted in the collar of his shirt. Her fingers unwind from the cotton, her hand sliding down to flatten against his chest, and she gives it a few firm, reassuring pats – like she’s checking he won’t blow away in the wind if she pushes too hard. He’s as nervous as she was with her first kiss – probably worse – and dwelling on that makes something in her chest flip in a way she doesn’t want to examine right now.

"Right... okay.” She lifts her hand to cup the side of his face, grounding him and silently reassuring him that it's okay. "Slow and steady." Shaundi shoots him a lopsided smile, the same one she uses before she does something reckless. "Got it."

Then she leans up again, and this time she’s careful. She presses a gentle kiss against his lips, a chaste little thing that’s almost like an apology, a reassurance that it’s all gonna be alright. She holds the contact for just a moment, feeling his pulse jump under her fingers as she cradles his jaw, before she pulls back just far enough to make sure he’s still with her. To her surprise, he is.

What’s headier is that he’s looking at her like he actually- fuck, like she’s real, not just another warm body or a quick fix. Looking right at her, like he does when she steals fries from his wrapper or when she teases him for his stupid mustache. Her throat tightens, and suddenly she’s the one off balance.

Shaundi waits for the penny to drop, for him to laugh and call her a tease, but he doesn’t. He just waits, breath ragged, like he’s terrified of messing this thing between them up, whatever it is. She realises, with a sharp inhale, that this is where she could ruin him.

“Oh my god, stop,” she groans, covering his eyes with her hand so she doesn’t have to look at that kicked-puppy stare he’s got going on right now. Before he can start talking himself into a hole again, Shaundi kisses him - harder the second time - to hide the shakes he’s given her. It’s not rough, but it’s sure, and she feels Tito sigh into that one, big hands coming up to hover over her waist, his eyelashes fluttering against her palm.

Shaundi’s hand slides back to gently grasp the back of his neck, fingers threading into the curls at his nape. They’re just a little damp there. It’s a firm pressure and a tug that pulls him ever so slightly closer. She moves deliberately, teaching him the rhythm, the give and take, and she hums approvingly when she feels him push back, just a little.

“Early start?”

She shrugs, “Might as well be.”

“What’d you take, Xixi?”

“Doesn’t matter.” 

“Yes, it does.”

“You know, you can go if this is what we’re gonna do all day.”

Charlie sighs, a little defeated. Turns away and unlocks the car. “Just get in.”

“Love you.”

“Xixi”

“I love you.” It takes the place of an apology in her mouth. She’s never been able to say sorry—to say it and really mean it—now is no exception. 

Charlie glances back but doesn’t meet her eyes, “Yeah, love you too. Get in, you need to sleep. You look like shit.” 

“How sweet.” She rolls her eyes, pushes up off the car. 

A fast driver is something that Charlie is not—that she so desperately in this moment wishes he was. Xixi sniffs, feels a warm trickle start and leans her head back against the headrest. Hopes this bleed is better than the last. 

She’s not sure what time it is anymore, even with the sun beaming down into her eyes, time is all a haze, a concept more than a fact. Her bangs tickle her lashes. She’ll have to trim them soon, she thinks. Charlie slows down at a yellow light even though he had more than enough time to speed past. Xixi sighs, pinches her nose as the trickle begins to descend. “Slower than my fuckin’ grandma.”

“At least I have a license.”

“Careful.”

He glares at her, forthright. Contempt under all that love. It makes her sick, or maybe it’s the booze. “You go away for another year, I’m not—I won’t sit here and wait for you.”

Xixi laughs, all wrong and nasally from the grip of her fingers on her nostrils, bites back “Yeah you will.” So quickly and with such certainty that it shocks her surely as much as it shocks him. “My bad.” The light turns green, Charlie stays unmoving, his hand on the wheel not so much as twitching. 

THIS one happened because I accidentally hid the main layer and I thought the result was pretty cool.

It strikes her now that she doesn’t have her phone. She’d been holding it when she left the party, going through her contacts, hovering over Tito’s and shutting it anyway. It’s too late to retrace her steps now, she supposes. Feels a little bit like crying. Light reflects on the parts of the bench yet to be infested with rust. She takes a look around, chest heaving. 

Half a block away, she sees salvation. 

For the last few nights, Tito hasn’t slept. Closed his eyes, given it the good old college try, sure, but he has not slept. Hasn’t fallen into that blissful near-oblivion. It’s driving him insane—that stinging of the eyes, his nerves all shot. He can’t stand it, the darkness with no relief. So he begins to replay things behind his closed eyes. 

They come to him, the memories, as missed opportunities, olympic level fumbles in any conversation that he has. And then there’s Shaundi. Only ever the same night; the night she crawled into his bed, laid so close beside him. He can almost feel her warmth now. Misses it. It stirs an ache in his chest, something awful. Unbearable. Tito opens his eyes, stares at the wall in the dark as the phantom warmth fades. Wonders if maybe the sheets in his bed at Purgatory still smell like her. 

He’s not asleep when he hears the knock at his door. But he starts up in bed anyway,  reaching for his gun in the dark. He never gets visitors here. In Purgatory, sure, but never here. Never at his place. Tito walks slow to the door, holds the knob tightly and, for a beat, breathes. 

When he jerks the door open, the barrel of his gun is between her eyes. And it takes him a moment to fully register who she is in this darkness—the dinky little light outside his front door went out weeks ago. He doesn’t see the point in getting it fixed. His stomach feels like it falls from its place in his abdomen when he realizes. It’s Shaundi, harmless Shaundi swaying on her feet with a red nose and tears in her eyes. His Shaundi with tears in her eyes.

“Hey, Boss.” it comes out a rasp, like she’s using all that’s in her to make any sound at all. “Gonna let me in?”

Quickly, awkwardly, Tito puts the gun away. Steps aside to let her in and they stand before each other for a moment, then two. It dawns on him then that they’re still in the dark and he’s blocking the switch. He scrambles to flip it, mutters a Sorry in her general direction. He turns back to her and she’s stalking across the apartment, grazing everything languidly with her finger tips. Knocking a few things out of place as she goes. Tito winces, feels a chill up his spine. 

“Nice place,” she picks up a book he isn’t sure he ever read. “Clean.”

He shifts on his feet, nods because he doesn’t know what to say. She’s never been here in his space like this. It feels like an invasion, though not one he’s willing to do anything about. Instead he watches her, gun still in his hand, he realizes now. 

The words come out before he can truly commit to them in his mind, “You okay?”

Shaundi shrugs, trips over nothing and rolls her ankle something awful. Tito’s sure he hears it crack. He grimaces, all but drops the gun onto the ground and approaches her with the trepidation you would a snarling animal. She’s still, sitting on the floor, not holding her ankle, not crying out. Only has a hand on his bed as if she intends to use it as leverage to get up but she never does. Just leans against it, barely registering the pain. Kneeling before her, Tito isn’t sure what to do so he watches her. Holds her gaze as she stares back at him. Her eyes are red and glassy, distant like she hasn’t been in her own body for a while. And maybe she can read the concern all over his face because she scoffs, waves a hand. 

“I’m fine. It’s fine...” Shaundi trails off, head lolling a little to the side. “Just took too much.”

His heart nearly stops, “Too much of what?”

She shrugs again, her eyes all wide as she whispers “Everything.” dramatically. The hardness of the floor on his knees keeps him earthside, grounded. He takes a breath and reaches out, two fingers touching the skin just under her jaw so light as if she’d break under the smallest of pressure. Shaundi leans into his touch and he can feel her pulse better than anything now. Strong and too fast to mean anything good. He wants to cry, wants to rock back and forth. He holds his fingers there out of fear that if he lets go, her heart’ll stop. 

“You’re fine.”

“I know.”

“Gonna be just fine.”

“Tito, I know.” She shoves his arm away but he brings it right back, holds her face in both his hands. He’s never seen her so spooked, and he reckons that’s that the look in her eye is. Shaundi’s just as scared as he is. 

“This shit’s gonna kill you one day, Shaundi,” she rolls her eyes, tries to look away but her eyes end up back on him regardless. “You need to g-” And suddenly, her hand is over his mouth.

Shaundi keeps a tight grip but Tito doesn’t make a move to push her away, to take her hand away from his mouth. He has that warmth he so badly sought back, doesn’t have it in him to end it. She leans in, presses her forehead against his, lips to her own hand and speaks into it. A murmur into her skin for him and no one else. 

“I got you, don’t I? Keep me safe, right, Boss?”

He feels sick. Nods because he knows he’ll die trying to keep her safe. Can feel that dread in his bones, whether it holds any weight or not.