you can’t hide your injuries from bf! floyd leech
notes : established relationship , comment if you want other characters!
You had gotten quite good at hiding your wounds. Not because you got hurt often. Because being with Floyd Leech taught you quickly what not to tell him.
Especially when others were around..Because Floyd reacted strangely to things like that.
past occasions: Someone bumped into you hard, and he spent an hour wondering if he should “squeeze them a little.” Another student stepped on your foot. He was already out the door before you stopped him from chasing them.
The truth was that this time really was an accident.
A student pushed open a door too quickly while you were standing on the other side. The edge slammed into your ribs leaving a bruise.
It hurt, of course. A lot more than you wanted to admit.
Dealing with Floyds reaction seemed easier. So you hid it. And it worked!
Floyd was like creepily observant when it came to you.
You were sitting in Floyds room above Mostro Lounge trying not to react when you shifted on the couch.
Floyd was sprawled on the end one arm over the backrest watching you. “You are acting weird,” he says.
Your stomach dropped and you laughed, trying to sound casual as you look away from him. “No I’m not?”
Floyd tilts his head slightly, eyes narrowing. “You flinched three times already.” You curse yourself internally, were you really that obvious?!!?!?!
“Maybe I am just dramatic.” you try to reassure him, surely it wouldn’t seem out of the odd because you do over exaggerate sometimes.
“You are dramatic,” he says. “It’s different this time.”
You try smiling but it feels weaker.
“I think you are imagining things.”
Whenever Floyd got quiet it meant he noticed something.
Before you can think of an excuse his hand wraps around your wrist.
But impossible to pull from.
His voice lost its teasing edge.
No nicknames. No joking tone.
Floyd pulls you into his lap. The movement sends an ache through your ribs and you suck in a breath quietly.
The second the sound leaves you—
Floyds arm tightens around your waist.
“I know,” Floyd says quietly.
“It was an accident,” you add quickly.
Floyds humming makes your stomach twist.
It’s the tone he uses when hes getting irritated.
“Some student opened a door fast.”
“By accident floyd,” you repeat.
“Yeah.” you knew you had to tread carefully, wording anything wrong right now and floyd would try to squeeze a poor student
A long silence follows after that..
Floyds hand slides against your side, fingers brushing close to the bruise and you tense.
That makes his eyes sharpen. “That bad, huh?”
“No no, It’s probably worse than it looks.” you brush it aside.
You hesitate, and that basically tells Floyd how bad it is.
His arm squeezes firmly your waist as he stares at you. “Shrimpy.”
“Okay okay.” You lift your shirt to show the bruise.
Everything is quiet for a second. Then- “Whoa.”
Floyds eyes stay fixed on the bruise, his expression flattening. “You hid this from me,” he mutters.
Your expression softens. “Because I knew you would overreact.”
“What do you mean overreact?” he asks, eyebrow raised, not liking the implication
“Hmm, planning a murder over a minor incident such as me getting hit by a door isn’t overreacting??”
Floyd grins. “Not murder.” then he admits, “Maybe just a little squeeze.”
“You are bruised all over.” Floyd purrs the words softly.
It sends vibrations down your spine.
It is the realization that Floyd hates seeing you hurt “Hate it,” he mumbles.
Your breath catches. “What?”
“I do not like seeing you all banged up.” His voice is quiet, muffled, and sincere.
Some tension leaves your shoulders.
Floyd stares at you for a moment before leaning down, pressing kisses against your ribs.
Careful, almost gentle, you notice every time he’s touching you he’s making sure to be gentle and not use too much of his strength on you.
“Still wanna squeeze them till they leave dents,” Floyd murmurs.
“Joking,” he says. Then mumbles “Mostly.”
Gosh this eel was gonna give you grey hairs.