#mj oc

Chapter 10

She’s sitting on her couch glaring at her phone like it's personally attacked her.

She’s trying to avoid calling him again, she’s frankly tired of it.

She’s biting at her nails, trying to do anything besides wait by her phone. The tv is on in the background but she’s not paying attention. The fear creeping in eats at her. Fear and anger. She sighs and reaches for her phone and swipes to her contacts. His name is right under the recent call log. Her thumb hovers over it, debating on calling Hobie again.

He has disappeared and it’s got her terrified.

He hasn’t shown at the pub in a few days. So, she decided to stop by his houseboat, which was empty. She’d say it doesn’t look like anything had been touched but she wouldn’t know. The place is chaotically organized and she isn't there enough to make a definitive statement on if it's been touched or not.

What really frightened her was that Spider-Man wasn’t out either. There had been a few incidents, petty crime stuff… but she knows Hobie, she knows when he patrols. He would have caught it.

She called him. Just to check in… that was three days ago.

Pacing her living room, her thumb still hovers over the call button, unsure if she should. She’s frustrated and tired. Her brow furrows as she stares down at her screen, her heart feeling tight.

She had spent the night before walking the streets and checking shitty little alleys. She was worried he might be dead in one, if she were to voice her fears. Just even thinking about it made her sick. She came up empty though. She doesn't know what's worse, finding him dead or not knowing if he's dead.

Her fear is replaced with anger as she stares down at her phone. If he wasn’t dead he better have an amazing excuse, because she was going to kill him.

She finally hits the call button, bouncing on her feet trying to diffuse the nervous tension in her body.

“I swear to god if this bloody bastard doesn’t pick up I’m going to ballistic…” she mutters to herself.

It sends her to voice mail.

“Absolute fucking prick.” She throws her phone down and walks off to her bedroom. “I can’t stay up another night wondering where he is!” She pulls at her hair and goes to lay on her bed.

Her weight falls onto the bed with a thud. She curls into herself, wrapping her arms tightly around herself, begging her brain to stop feeding her anxiety. She's been worrying herself sick for days. She doesn't remember the last real meal she ate, she hasn't felt this bad since her family dog ran off when she was ten. She cried and cried and cried for that dog. Hoping it would come back home, back to her. The dog never came back and all she got was scolded by her mother for still crying over the lost animal.

She squeezes her eyes shuts and prays to just fall asleep, anything was better than what was happening in her head. 

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

She groans at the consistent noise and tries to go back to sleep. She had finally passed out, but now this repetitive tapping was waking her up.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

She sits up and looks out her bedroom window, nothing. She flops back down and sighs shoving a pillow over her ears.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

She suddenly bolts up; the noise isn’t from her bedroom window. It’s her balcony.

“Absolutely not.” she groans to herself.

 She throws the blankets off her and rushes into the living room. She sees the familiar silhouette on her balcony.

She glares at the door, her face twisting in anger. She reaches for the lamp to turn on. Once the light floods her room, she sees him on her balcony. Her face sours even more upon seeing him. He has a faltering smile on his face as he looks at her. Waiting.

“Give me on good reason to let you in here.” She demands crossing her arms as she shoots him a look that’s says more than her words could. Her eyes are clouded as she glares daggers at him.

“C’mon MJ. Let me in, cold out here.” He attempts, voice muffled through the glass.

Her brows raise in irritation, “Don’t care. You literally disappeared on me for a week. So, unless your explanation is life altering, I don’t want to see your face.” She says walking away from her balcony doors.

She’s glad he isn’t dead, but now it’s just unfiltered boiling rage coursing through her body towards him.

“Mariana please…I can explain, promise.” He says pressing his forehead on the door. He pleads with his big brown eyes, that always make her want to scream. He looks like a lost dog.

She huffs in frustration and defeat, “Fucking prick, disappears for a week and gives me those stupid puppy dog eyes and I just give in…” she mumbles chastising herself.

She flings the door open and steps back. She crosses her arms and looks at him, waiting.

He stumbles in behind her, surprised he actually made it this far. His eyes slowly look over her, taking in her appearance.

She’s in her pajamas, hair messy from sleep. She has dark circles under his eyes and he can see she’s been biting her nails. He notices how her hands dig into her own arms as they lay crossed over her chest. She’s guarding herself, protecting herself from him.

He realizes, as he looks her over, she’s been worried over him. Desperately so.

He sighs and shakes his head. He takes a deep breath before speaking, “Don’t have a good excuse for my disappearing act…”

She scoffs and turns away from him, “Course you don’t.” she whispers bitterly.

“Hey, listen,” He goes to touch her shoulder but she recoils from his touch. His hand lowers, shaking. He pulls back to himself.

“I was trying to avoid you okay?” he tells her honestly.

Her head whips up to look at him in almost confused betrayal. She doesn’t say anything, the silence acting as enough of an answer for him.

“Can’t do this,” He says running his hands over his face, “I don’t keep people around…” He starts. “Connecting with people isn’t my thing, I like being alone mostly… they don’t stick around like you.” He mutters looking at her.

 “So, what? You, you just cut me off? Cause you’re afraid?” she accuses voice rising.  “What about your band and those photos? Are they not your friends?” she adds in confusion.

“Yeah, they are,” He sighs, his shoulders dropping. “It’s different with you… no one’s stuck around the way you have and I ran.”  He tells her. Owning up what he did. He looks at her trying to get what he needs to say out. It feels like his throats swollen, filled with unspoken words that are too big and too important to get out.

“You came to tell me you’re afraid of intimacy after disappearing for a week… I figured that out on my own, thanks.” She says unimpressed.

She scoffs at where this conversation is going, she’s in disbelief. She doesn't want to hear anymore, it hurts too much.

“Not why I’m here MJ.” He says shaking his head.

“Please enlighten me, because I’m lost!” She says looking up at him. Her eyes are glossy and her voice is cracking, “I don’t know what is going on with you and I’m mad at you Hobie. I don’t want to be but I am.” She tells him her hands turning to fists at her side as they tremble. 

“M’not good at this…” He mutters, “Can I be honest?” he asks, voice ever so quiet. 

“Yes, that’s all I’m asking.” She replies looking lost. 

“I can’t lose you and that terrifies me alright? What happens if you’re with me and you die?” he asks voice shaking a little. “Can’t have that alright? You’re too important to me… Thought if I left it’d be easier on you.” He admits.

Her hearts racing, she knows what he means, but it doesn’t sit right in her stomach.

“You’re a real selfish dickhead you know that?” she says, her voice small as she looks up at him. “I don’t know what we’re doing Hobie, but I know I don’t want to lose you either.” She says exasperatedly.

She turns her head away from him looking down at her own feet, “I have messed up a lot of relationships okay…All I have is the people at the pub, my dad, and.. and you.” She says frustratedly.

Her arms come up and wrap around herself tightly. Trying to comfort herself the best she can.

“And to be honest… I prefer you to the lot at the pub.” She says with a dry, choked, laugh. She can feel her eyes really start to well up and she tries to stop herself. The last thing she wants to do is cry.

He reaches out hesitantly for her, she doesn’t recoil from his touch this time. He gently pulls her into a hug. She doesn’t return it, but she doesn’t push him away either.

He tucks her under his head, his chin resting on her.  

“Fucked up…” He mumbles lowly, “How do I fix this?” he asks her softly.

“You can’t just disappear on me…” Her voice breaks, almost into a sob but she holds herself back. “I thought you were dead in some alley.” She murmurs into his chest wrapping her arms slowly around him. Holding him tightly, her hands clinging onto him.

He rubs soothing circles into her back, “Can’t get rid of me that easily, promise.” He chuckles softly.

She scoffs a bit, “Says the guy crawling in my window needing to be stitched up every other week.”

The air around them isn’t filled with the same tense energy as before. They’re easing back into themselves, their routine. She enjoys the comfort of his large hands on her back and how she fits into the crook of his neck.

He enjoys her warmth, how it feels when she holds onto him. He didn't realize how much he missed it until it was gone. Even if it was just for a few days. 

He gives a genuine laugh at her words, it’s deep and shakes her body with him, “That was only a couple times, c’mon give me some credit here?” He says pressing a kiss into her hair.

“I don’t know what you did before me, can’t imagine you stitching yourself up.” She says gently.

He scoffs, “I’m a great nurse! Wrapped your ankle pretty well.” He says haughtily.

She snorts and looks up at him, “Uh-huh, and how many times have you patched yourself up since I started to?”

He makes a face and rolls his eyes at her, “What? Want me to go find another pretty girls’ balcony to patch me up instead? Ya sick of me, that it?” he teases her.

She laughs softly at that, “What like a tom cat? You a stray now?” She asks cocking her head to the side. 

He makes a face of mild distaste, “Good to know I’m just a stray cat luv, gotta keep my ego in check.”

“What, you don’t like that? Do you want to be domesticated instead?” she teases with a grin.

“Okay you’re just takin’ the piss now.” He mutters in fake irritation.

She just giggles, but once that dies down they’re both staring into each other’s eyes. The silence almost too loud between them. He moves his hand to cup her face, his eyes taking in her every feature.

“Can’t lose you… it’s dangerous being around me.” He says seriously, brows furrowed.

She shakes her head, “It’s worth it to be with you.” She says softly.

He feels her chipping away at his heart, carving her little hole for herself to sit in.

He presses a kiss to her forehead and pulls her against him tightly, her hands returning the gesture. Holding onto him, digging her nails into him, like she’s afraid he’ll disappear again.

“I…” He opens his mouth to tell her something, but loses his voice. It cracks and makes him wish he could just tell her.

“It’s okay.” She says softly. “We don’t, we don’t need to do that right now.”

He sighs and pulls back to look at her, “I want to try whatever it is, that we’re doing.”

She nods her head in agreement, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “A different conversation, not tonight.” She holds his face in her hands.

Her eyes flicker down, her face burning for a moment, “Can you stay tonight… with me?” she asks a little embarrassed.

He grins and gives a soft chuckle, “Yeah I can. Not going anywhere.” He gently reminds her.

She grins at him and moves to grab his hand and pull him to her bedroom. “Good.”

Tag List: @missshelleyduvall

Chapter 12

Hobie has started to add little pieces of himself in her home. He’s left a plethora of one or two things in her place before, which he just grabs when he comes back or she returns it at the pub.

He’s started to leave more of his belongings though, it’s not just one or two accidentally left. It’s articles of clothing, random objects he’s placed purposefully on shelves or side tables. There’s a whole drawer in her dresser that half belongs to his random assortment of clothes. He’s also left a few web shooters and tools to fix them lying around in her living room.

Then there’s the biggest one, if he’s visiting her at the pub, he sleeps over.

He offered to sleep on the couch but she couldn’t let him. She counter offers to let him sleep in her bed with her. It’s nothing overtly intimate or sexual, but it does make her heart skip a beat knowing he’s next to her. Waking up with his arms slung over her or her face pressed into his shoulder, legs intertwined, it’s gentle and soft. It just makes her feel warmth settle in her chest in a way that she hasn’t felt... maybe ever.

She thinks maybe this is what love could feel like but she pushes that away quickly. She doesn’t want to over complicate her dynamic with him.

She does love him, but being in love is different. It’s dangerously close to what she’s experiencing, but she wouldn’t say she’s in love with him.

She just really likes him and he spends the night occasionally.

Totally not in love.

Maybe a little too codependent though… but she can’t find it in herself to care too much about that.

It’s been a long day in the pub, almost everything has gone wrong, from the kitchen running out of most of the food to her spilling at least three different drinks all over herself.

And the band that was suppose to come tonight had left her out to dry.

It had just been one hell of a day.

She drags herself home hunching into herself. Her hairs tossed up and she feels gross and sticky. She just wants a warm shower and something to eat.

She shoves her keys into her door and almost falls into her flat. She can't stop now, just needs to make it to the shower.

Her lights are on and she sees his hair poking up past the couch, letting her know it’s Hobie. To be fair it would be odd if it wasn’t him. He sits up to look over the couch at her and his brows raise looking at her. He stands up quickly and walks over to her, holding her arms, rubbing them gently.

“You look trashed, what happened?” he asks her, voice low and calming.

She closes her eyes and groans pressing her forehead onto his shoulders.

“It was awful today…” She says voice so tired and drained.

“Wanna talk about it?” He presses.

She nods her head and pulls back, “Yeah, can I take a shower first? I need to change out of these clothes. I’m covered in booze.” She groans.

“Yeah I’ll be right here.” He tells her pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.

She drags herself into her room and grabs her pajamas before shuffling into her bathroom.

She runs the water hot, almost scalding her skin. She stands under the running water, closing her eyes. She wants to wash the day away, trying to feel comfortable again. Her heads pounding and she wants a hot meal. She stands there for maybe just fifteen minutes letting the hot water roll down her back. She doesn’t want to get out. She still needs to wash her hair and body.

There’s a knock on the door, “Ya good in there?” she hears Hobie’s muffled voice through the door.

“I’ll be out in a minute… just don’t wanna move.” She tells him.

“There’s a mug when you come out. Have ya eaten?” he asks.

She smiles to herself, he’s being so domestic, it’s sweet.

“No, I haven’t.” she says finishing up and turning off the water.

“I can make something.” He says and she hears his footsteps walk away.

She pulls her towel around herself and can’t stop the warm smile that spreads across her face.

She comes out of the bathroom in her pajamas, big and cozy, and she doesn’t make it around the corner before Hobie’s pressing a mug into her hands and pushing her towards the couch.

He shuffles back into the kitchen and she hears him rattling around the drawers. She smells food and she’s almost drooling at the thought of a nice warm meal. She turns to watch him as she sips on her tea.

He’s standing at the stove, tea towel thrown over his shoulder, and his free hand resting on his hip. He’s concentrated on what he’s doing, which she thinks, he’s making a very late breakfast.

His eyes flicker over to her and he mouth tugs into a lopsided smile, “Ya watchin’ me?” he asks teasingly.

She nods her head taking another sip from her drink, “Maybe, you look like a little homemaker.” She returns with a giggle.

“Oi, does Martha Stewart look like this?” He brings his hands out and does a full body spin for her. He’s slow and making it overly dramatic but it’s silly and she enjoys it. He plays into the bit with her.

“Mmmm. I think you have more accessories than her, and probably more spikes too. It’s a close relation though, can hardly tell a difference.” She smiles in response biting her lip trying to keep herself from laughing.

“I don’t know,” he shrugs looking at her with a smile, “I think my cheek bones are better.” He holds his chin and poses dramatically.

She laughs and shakes her head, “Mmm true true.  I can’t believe I forgot that very important defining feature that separates you.” She says.

He shrugs, “I know I look just like her but I think it’s a key feature.” Continuing the joke with a large grin.

 He turns back to the food he’s cooking and plates it for her. He comes over and gently pulls the mug from her hands and replaces it with the plate. He plops down next to her, arm resting behind her on the couch.

She smiles up at him, big and toothy, “Thaaaaaaaaaank you. Appreciate it.” She says and starts to eat.

He smiles but grabs the tea towel and fake hits her with it. “This wasn’t for free now, spill, what happened today.” He says playfully.

She groans in irritation, “It was awful!” she shouts leaning back into the couch. She feels his arm resting behind her, it’s comforting.

She turns and looks at him, her face fallen into a frown. “The manager forgot to place the order for food so there was almost nothing in the kitchen tonight. I don’t know what was up with me tonight, but I spilt three drinks on myself! I didn’t have anything to change into so I just smelled like vodka and whiskey for the last two hours…” She shoves more food into her mouth. She just wants to lay down and forget today.

His arm moves down to wrap around her arm. Rubbing up and down in a comforting motion.

“That all?” he asks softly.

“No… the band I hired didn’t even show. We had so many complaints and I felt like it was my fault. I know it’s not, but I still feel that way.” She says with a soft voice, her shoulders sagging a little.

“Definitely not your fault. Only shit bands don’t show for a gig. No matter how tiny the pub is.” He reassures her.

She smiles at him tightly, “Yea well I’m absolutely telling the other locals about them. They won’t work any pub shows on our block.” She mutters bitterly.

She finishes her food, placing the empty plate on her coffee table and she crawls closer to him, situating herself in his lap.

He wraps booth arms around her, resting his head on her shoulder, giving her neck a soft kiss. 

She sighs and closes her eyes, melting into him.

“Ya comfortable?” He says, voice low but playful, rumbling from his chest. She feels it against her back and it makes her feel comfortable.

She gives a soft giggle, “You’re quite comfortable actually.” She says.

He makes a noise of confirmation and tightens his arms around her.

“I didn’t know you were coming by tonight.” She states. Hobie hadn’t been at the pub and hadn’t texted her. She was pleasantly surprised to see him.

He shrugs, to the best of his ability, “Was in the neighborhood.” He says nonchalantly.

“What? All the way over here?” She says in mock shock.

He rolls his eyes and sighs, “Some pricks stealin’ from the homeless shelter. They made it over here and I got them. Just thought to wait for you. Was already over here anyway.” He mumbles.

She gives a soft smile, “Sounds like we both had our hands full tonight.” She replies softly.

He nods, “They weren’t even takin’ the items, it’s was all their donations. The money that makes the place run with as little as it makes anyway…” he says in quiet anger.

She shuffles herself to turn around to face him. Her legs straddle his hips as she slots herself closer to him. She holds his face making him look at her.

“You fixed it.” She says with a soft smile. 

He nods and presses his forehead to hers, closing his eyes.

“Still pisses me off.” He mutters.

She moves her arms to wrap around him, hugging him. He sighs and wraps his arms around her shoulders pulling her closer.

They sit there holding onto each other for a while in comfortable silence. They both just have their heads nestled on each other’s shoulders. She starts to doze off, content in their position, until he moves to stand.

She opens her mouth to make a complaint but she feels him move his arms down to grab her legs. He doesn’t move her position, her legs still wrapped around him, as he stands holding onto her.

“I was about to fall asleep Hobie.” She whines jokingly.

He just gives a soft scoff and walks them into her room. “Thought you’d prefer your bed.” He says.

He places her down but she doesn’t unwrap her arms. She’s trapped Hobie, he’s hovering above her arms planted next to her head. He raises a brow at her.

“I gotta go MJ, c’mon.” he whispers not pulling away, though he absolutely could.

“Noooooo. Stay please.” She murmurs sleepily, pouting up at him.

“I can’t, c’mon.” His voice is quiet, almost nonexistent.

“I sleep better when you’re here…” She tells him, shifting her eyes away in embarrassment.

He groans in irritation and falls on top of her playfully, shoving his face into her neck.

“Ya can’t do that to me… can’t say no when you say shit like that.” He mutters in fake irritation wrapping his arms under her, holding her closer to him.

She makes a noise of surprise as he falls on top of her but she’s not upset.

“Hobie!” she exclaims.

“No, no, no complaining. You sat her begging me so I’m stayin’ now. Just like this too, you’re trapped.” He says sternly.

“I did not beg-” she begins with a scoff and he cuts her off.

“Aw Hobie please stay~” He begins, his voice mockingly high, “I just can’t sleep without your strong arms around me!” he continues.

Her face burns red and she can only look at him jaw dropped. She starts playfully batting her hands at him, “Okay never mind! I take it all back, I was trying to be sweet but nooooooooooooo!”

“Hit me all ya want, not moving.” He replies smugly.

She groans in irritation. She doesn’t say anything else, but she does reach up and gives him a bite to his neck.

He immediately jerks back, sitting up and looking at her with wide eyes.

“Did you just bite me?” he accuses voice pitched and flustered. If she didn’t know any better she’d say he was blushing.

“Yes, yes I did.” She says with her whole chest. A smug smile on her lips.

“You little minx! That was uncalled for.” He chastises her with a smirk.

She shrugs and goes to lean toward him, “You liked it though, look at you!” she giggles.

“Okay you,” He rushes forward and grabs her hands pushing her down back into the bed. Pinning her. He hovers over her, “Let’s see how you like it,” He moves his head down and nips at her neck.

She gasps in response, her face burning red, she bites back the noise that tries to escape her throat and suddenly they aren’t being playful anymore.

Her eyes are wide as she stares up at him.

He’s pulled back, looking at her searching her face for something, his breathing ragged.

Her eyes flicker across his face then down to his lips, and back up to his eyes. His eyes have always been a deep brown but his pupils are blown, she’s almost looking into a black abyss.

She’s sure hers probably look similar.

He releases her hands and sits up, pulling bac, covering the lower half of his face. He looks away.

“I, uh- I should go.” He tries to rush out, avoiding her gaze.

She surges forward and grips his wrist, “Wait…”

He looks down at where her hand grips him tightly, “Don’t please, I-” She cuts herself off unsure what to say. Her hearts pounding and she doesn’t know what to do.

“Sorry, sorry, I just…” She says and releases his hand and runs her hands through her hair and pulls her head back.

He looks over her and gives a soft smile. “I know.”

She looks up at him and looks over him. It’s not a secret they like each other… so why is it so hard to say it? Maybe she just doesn’t feel like there’s words to describe how exactly he makes her feel.

Or maybe she’s just afraid if she says it, puts real words to her feelings, he’ll leave. Like everyone else had.

She closes her eyes and tries to shake off that fear.

Hobie leans forward and cups her cheek. Her eyes open as she looks into his eyes, there’s no hesitation behind his. Not like hers. She feels herself leaning into him, falling into his orbit that pulls and tugs at her constantly.

Her eyes flutter shut as Hobie presses a kiss to her lips, it’s a long deep and burning kiss. Their lips move against each other as if they were always meant to do so.

It ends far too soon, she bites her lip as she looks up into his burning eyes.

“Should go to bed, it’s late.” He whispers.

She nods her head but doesn’t move. “Will you still stay?” she asks just as quiet.

“If you want me.” He offers a soft and dry chuckle falls from his lips.

She nods her head, “Always do.” She smiles.

He goes to lay with her, wrapping his arms loosely around her and pulling the covers over them. He presses a kiss to her shoulder and nuzzles into her back. She takes a shaky breath, her heart practically exploding.

She touches her lips in thought, her face breaking into a smile.

She thinks she could fall in love him, but she knows herself. It never ends well when she loves someone, she's too needy and gives so much of herself... they take her but never stay for her. 

He could be different, a small tiny voice inside her heart says. God, does she hope this is different.

Tag List: @missshelleyduvall

Chapter 11

Everything’s too cold, freezing almost, then it’s just as quickly too hot. She’s been rolling around in her bed for hours, trying to sleep but nothings working.

She looks over at her phone to check the time, it’s only ten at night but she’s been awake since four in the morning and she’s desperate to sleep. She’s tried everything, pills, tea, warm milk, nothing works. Nothing gives her the relief her mind needs.

She’s so frustrated she’s about to cry. She crawls out of her bed and shuffles into the living room. She’s in a hoodie and carries her big blanket with her. If she can’t sleep she might as well try to watch something and hope she passes out that way.

She makes a nest on the couch and tries to ignore the pounding in her head.

She’s sick, really sick. She’s running a fever and her body is aching in places she didn’t even know could be sore. She can’t remember the last time she was this ill… probably in university.

She’s practically begging her own body to just go to sleep.

The tv is playing lowly in the background but she’s not paying attention. She can’t look at it too long or her head starts swimming and she gets nauseous.

She’s already spent one night profusely puking, she didn’t need to do it again.

Her eyes are closed but she’s not asleep. Just resting to the best that she can.

Knock knock knock knock

She looks up groggily and sees Hobie at her balcony holding a small bag.

She motions that it’s open, refusing to get up. It’s a miracle her legs let her shuffle to the couch.

He gives a smile and let’s himself in, kicking off his boots. He walks over to her, leaning down to get better look, “Wow,” He whistles lowly, “You are sick.” He says reaching his hand out to check her forehead.

“I’m probably contagious, you should go home.” She slurs her words and squeezes her eyes shut again. She hasn’t heard her voice all day, it’s thick with congestion.

“Pfft. Not worried. I am worried bout you.” He says softly pulling some items out from his bag.

He sets a small prescription bottle down as well as some Pedialyte. He opens the medication and shakes out two pills for her to take. Making her sit up for it.

She groans as he helps her sit up. He holds his hands out for her and she dramatically grabs them as he pulls her up. He hands the medicine to her and she takes the pills happily.

“Where did you get these?” she asks as he presses the Pedialyte bottle into her hands.

He shrugs nonchalantly, “Know a few people in the pharmacy who owe Spider-Man a favor or two.” He says smugly.

“Now drink.” He tells her, “Know you’re dehydrated. You probably haven’t drunk anything all day.”

She drinks the beverage slowly, when she sets it down she gives him an unsatisfied look. “I had tea today…” She murmurs quietly.

“Ya only had the one cup didn’t ya?” he accuses raising a brow.

She rolls her eyes and goes back to drinking the Pedialyte. The silence answering his question.

“That’s what I thought. Scoot over.” He demands pushing his way onto the couch.

“What no!” She tries to stop him, her voice cracking and rough. “You’ll get sick!” she chastises.

“Don’t care.” He says and helps her readjust.

He lifts the blanket off of her and moves so she’s laying with her head in his lap. He gently covers her again and let’s her move so she’s comfortable.

She’s facing him, eyes closed, one arm wrapped around his thighs using them like a pillow. He gently runs his hand through her hair trying to get her to settle. She hums in contentment.

“Look tired…did you sleep?” he asks softly.

She shakes her head no, “Can’t, I’m miserable.” She whines with a yawn.

He rubs her shoulder reassuringly, “The meds should help.” He whispers, still lightly stroking her hair.

She opens her eyes to look up at him, eyes locking. She’s comfortable, more so than she’s been all day. Every touch has her relaxing even more, almost melting. He’s looking at her in that way that makes her stomach turn and flip. His gaze intense as he looks over her.

His gaze used to make her nervous, like he was searching for something she wasn’t willing to give… Not so much anymore. It’s a comfort, she didn’t know when that changed.

It’s nice to know if she looks out to find him in a crowd, his eyes are already on her. They’ve been looking for her since he played in the pub.

She doesn’t know when, but she does fall asleep on Hobie’s lap. She has fever induced dreams of webs, music, bright colors, and him.

It’s the best sleep she’s gotten in months.

When she stirs awake, it’s early morning light filtering in that wakes her. She’s still on the couch and she’s laying on a very solid form.

She makes a small noise as she rubs the sleep from her eyes and when she blinks through her blurry vision, she sees that she’s on top of Hobie’s very solid chest.

Her face burns as she looks up, he’s still asleep, head thrown back with small snores filtering through.

She breathes a sigh of relief, but finds her heart still racing as she looks up at him.

She almost laughs from how silly he looks, his mouth open as he sleeps, his hands lazily wrapped around her body.

She smiles warmly up at him, and lays her head back down. She wraps her own arms around him and nuzzles her face into his chest. She can hear his heartbeat. It slow and methodic as he continues to sleep. She wonders if his heart beats erratically like hers when they're together.

She finds herself wanting to hear that, wanting the confirmation that he’s just as flustered by her.

Her face warms up at that idea and she tries to go back to sleep, but she’s wide awake now.

She also notices how her body is achy again and that she’s still very congested. She doesn’t want to get up, but she knows she needs to take the medicine and probably drink some water. She groans to herself not wanting to move.

His hand moves up to rub her back comfortingly, “Mornin’…” He mumbles, voice thick with sleep and leans down to press a kiss into her hair.

She adjusts to look back up at him, “Morning, I didn’t know you were stayin’ here.” She says, voice still stuffy and low.

He just grins lazily at her, “Can’t leave ya alone after you finally fell asleep.” His smile turns to a smug smirk, “Ya started cuddlin’ and I couldn’t pass that up.”

She shoves her face into his chest slightly embarrassed, “Not my fault you’re comfortable…” she mumbles.

He just chuckles and tightens his hold on her. She feels his chest rise and shake but she also hears his heart beat quicken. She smiles to herself.

“I need to take those meds again.” She says going to sit up, she doesn’t want to move but she needs to.

“Stay here, I got it yeah?” He tells her. He moves to sit up with her in his lap, as he leans over to grab the pills off the table.

His one arm is wrapped lazily around her but presses her into him. She leans her head into the crook between his shoulder and neck.

“You’re seriously gonna get sick…” she mutters to him as he presses the medicine into her palm and holds the Pedialyte bottle.

“S’fine.” He mutters watching her take the medicine. “Just means you can take care of me when I inevitably get ill.” He grins at her.

She sighs in response and finishes the drink. “I don’t know if I’m this good of a nursemaid like you are.” She says playfully.

He pulls her back down to lay on the couch again, pulling the covers over them, “Sure ya are. You patch me up constantly.” He says softly wrapping his arms around her waist holding her close to him.

She keeps her hands pressed against his chest and nods her head. “Mmm you’re not wrong. You do end up injured pretty frequently.” She says with small concern.

“Oi, oi, oi, don’t say it like that! I’ve not been too beaten up when ya see me!” he complains playfully.

She gives him an accusing look. “You bled out next to my door waiting for me once Hobie…” She reminds him.

“One time. Just the one.” He gives a bright grin. “I didn’t know you the time I literally almost died, had to give myself stitches!” he tells her.

Her face sours, “Don’t tell me that, I worry about you enough…” she whispers.

He scoffs, “Don’t worry about me, promise. I can handle myself, been doing this a while.” He tells her tracing circles into her back with feather light touches.

“Seriously Hobie, I worry about you.” She moves her arms to circle him, hugging him. “I know what you do is important, and I love that you protect everyone… I just want to make sure you’re safe too.” She whispers looking at him.

His brown eyes pierce hers, really looking her over. He gives a soft sigh of resignation. “Fine ya win, ya win.” He shoves his face into her hair hugging her tightly to him, “Just stop lookin’ at me like that…” he mutters.

“Like what?” She replies hugging him just as tightly.

“You know like what, using those big doe eyes on me. Isn’t fair...”  His voice muffled.

She laughs at him, “Hobie what are you talking about?”

He pulls back and raises a brow at her, “You know you do it! That thing with those big eyes of yours, lookin’ at me like it’s the last time you’ll see me or something.” He scoffs pulling her close.

“M’not going anywhere…” he whispers.

She hears his heartbeat again, pressed so close to him, it’s beating wildly.

Her eyes soften and she moves to sit up, she runs one hand up to caress his cheek, her thumb brushing his cheekbone.

“Better keep your promise then.” She tells him, voice soft.

He moves a hand to grip the one she has on his face, he looks at her intensely, “Not going anywhere.” He repeats.

“Good.” She replies and settles back down laying with him.

He runs his hand lazily up and down her back, lulling her back to sleep, but she’s okay with that. He’ll be here when she wakes up.

And the next day after that.

And the next.

She falls asleep listening to his heart.

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