WANTED // Sapnap X Reader

15

You swept the rag across the last of the old wooden tables that filled out most of the saloon, clearing off all the crumbs and cigarette ashes that had collected in the grooves over the day. On the other side of the room, Anne was wiping down the bar in a similar fashion, while Perkins cooked dinner for the night before he closed up the kitchen entirely.

"Either way, he was too drunk for a man who has work the next day." Anne said, wrapping up her story as she finished wiping off the bar. "It's going to kill him when he has to get up early to feed his cattle in the morning."

"And the best part," You chimed in, a wicked grin playing on your lips. "Is that everyone knows he'll be back tomorrow night."

Perkins laughed, shaking his head as he placed two plates on the bar - dinner for you and Nick. You made your way over to the bar, dropping off your rag in exchange for the plates. "Thanks Perkins." You said, picking up the dishes.

"Not a problem at all." Perkins said with a smile, going back to preparing dishes for himself and Anne. "I'll see you tomorrow morning Y/N."

With that, you headed upstairs, leaving Anne and Perkin's gentle chatter behind you as you made your way up to the attic, where Nick was waiting. The plates were warm where they balanced on your hands, and you couldn't wait to dig in - you were hungrier than normal today, but maybe that was because you had helped Anne bring in the bulk ingredients from the grocer's between lunch and dinner.

You slid the plates over to one arm so you could open the door, unsurprised to hear a shuffle coming from inside the room as you did. Nick flopped down on the spare bed just as you pushed the door open all the way - even though Anne had sternly warned him not to, he had been walking around on his ankle.

You never quite managed to catch him entirely in the act though.

"I thought I told you that you shouldn't be walking on your ankle just yet." You said, closing the door behind you.

On the bed, Nick grinned mischievously. "S'far as you know, I wasn't."

You rolled your eyes, going over to set down the dinner plates. Of course, you both knew that you could hear him walking around outside the door, but you allowed the little game. It was the least you could do when he was locked up here on his lonesome.

"It's really not going to get better if you keep walking on it though." You said, pulling one of the plates to your end of the dresser as you sat down on the edge of your bed. "I know you're probably itching to get out of here."

Nick sat up as well, taking the other plate and digging right in. "What do you mean?"

You looked over at him curiously. "I just thought... from the way you talked about your family's ranch and the outdoors. Plus, you seemed so skittish when we first found you 'round back. You were like a scared prairie dog." The first ever glimpses you had had of Nick's face played in the back of your mind - that pained grimace and the fear in his eyes.

Looking at him now was almost like looking at an entirely different man.

He lounged on the spare bed like he owned the place, dinner plate in his lap as he picked at his food. A grin was never far from his lips, and more than once his booming laugh had caused Anne to smack the ceiling of her rooms downstairs, shouting at you to quiet down. He seemed more happy now - though anyone would be after trudging around with a broken ankle.

"I mean, I do miss being able to walk around." Nick said. "But I gotta say, being served three delicious meals a day while I lounge around in bed isn't bad." He looked over to you, grinning. "It also helps that the person taking care of me happens to be easy on the eyes."

You almost choked on the bite of food you had taken seconds before, eyebrows trying valiantly to escape from your forehead. On the bed, Nick burst out laughing, eyes crinkling in the corners as he giggled. You regained control of your throat, swallowing forcefully. "Sorry?"

"What?" Nick laughed. "No ones ever told you you're pretty before?"

"I - well," You stuttered. Of course people had told you that you were pretty before, but most of the time it was well-meaning older folk, like Miss Dolly. You never took it too seriously when those sorts of people tossed a compliment your way - it was the equivalent of your grandmother calling you pretty then.

It was different when Nick said it.

Nick tutted. "Hm. I thought when you look like that you'd hear it more often, but judging by the way you nearly died just then, I guess not."

A heat rose in your face at his words - something that had been happening more often than not these days, even though you knew it was all in good humor, another little game he liked to play to stave off the boredom. You just shook your head, returning your attention to the plate of food in front of you. "Shouldn't you be stuffing your face?"

Your words brought Nick's attention back to the plate in front of him, and he dove back into his dinner, giving you a moment to get your face back under control. You knew exactly why this was happening. It was obvious.

How were you supposed to stop yourself though, when you had been caring for him for weeks? When you had watched him slowly get more comfortable around you, learning what made you laugh so that he could crack a joke at the worst times and make you giggle uncontrollably? When he said things like that all the time?

You were in too deep to fish yourself out now.