Love/Hate (Lemon GarouxReader 🍋)

Cream of the Crop

The following week passes by, slowly and pleasantly minus the heat, which becomes intolerable at times. You hang out with Tsukiko, occasionally babysit Ryo and your little cousin Ami and try to get in as much extra studying as possible.
On Thursday evening you send your last message to Tsukiko, wishing her all the smutty best on her date, and toss your phone on the couch next to you before turning on the TV and flipping through the channels, checking what's coming up, not really paying too much attention, preparing yourself for a quiet evening of comfortable boredom until one title catches your eye. You jump up in excitement. It's that movie! That one you really wanted to go see last year with Tsukiko when it came out but never got around to it because, well, life.
Yes! Great!
You still have seven minutes you think as you bounce up, your loose pinafore dress floating behind you as you hurry into the kitchen to make the last pack of popcorn, get a drink and generally get yourself settled.
You've got yourself nicely, perfectly set up curled up on the couch, cradling the bowl of hot, salty goodness, a glass of cold lemonade on the floor just where you can reach it. The opening credits begin and you're already riveted. When...
You give a little start when you sense something, or rather someone, out of the corner of your eye, but you're getting used to this by now.
Turning your head, you see Garou standing in the doorway between the living room and hallway.
Your hand hovers just above the popcorn, you can feel its radiating heat on your fingers, about to plunge in.
"Yes?" you enquire, a little irritated. He really knows when to pick the moment.
His eyes, practically glowing with excitement, go from you then back down the hall, then back to you, all the while grinning that grin that can only mean one thing.
"Not now," you try to shoo him away. "I've waited too long for this."
"But I've been waiting too long for-" he starts, a grumbling complaint.
"We did it twice like two days ago!" you throw a cushion at him, which he catches easily, as you recall being naked and happily bounced against your bedroom door mid-afternoon, and then again in the early evening.
"Exactly! You know how long that is?!" he's exasperated. There's a definite mismatch between your sense of time and his.
You glance back at the screen, the opening credits coming to an end. The television won't wait for you.
"Just...be quiet! Either come watch with me or go do...whatever!" you say with an authoritative finality, turning back to the screen, the conversation over.
He's about to argue back but then he notices the bowl of popcorn. His obvious look of displeasure transforms.
Alright.
He's already waited two days, two more hours won't kill him. Probably. Maybe. Possibly...
You shuffle over a little and let him sit next to you.
"Do you-"
"Shh!"
"But-"
"Shut it!" you throw your hand momentarily over his mouth, never taking your eyes off the story unfolding in front of you.
But Garou has no interest in this chick flick you've decided is worth your time. It looks boring as hell and the story is so fucking predictable. He only has one focus, eyeing the bowl on your lap as you're glued to the TV, dipping your fingers in every few seconds, bringing the little puffed kernels to your lips, two at a time. How dainty.
Your attention may be preoccupied with the two protagonists in this romance but you notice him reaching over and move the bowl further away.
Oh come on!
He waits a few moments and tries again, his hand hovering just above your buttery snack,
"No!" you smack it away. If you let him in, he's going to take half the contents with one fell swoop and this has to last.
You pick up one piece and, never looking in his direction, shove it in his mouth. You will distribute the popcorn. You pick up another for yourself, then another for him as he tries to playfully bite your fingers. Then another for you. Then for him...
You dip deeper and deeper into the bowl as the contents diminish and finally put it down on the floor, out of the way, when there's nothing but hard, unpopped kernels and flakes of salt littering the bottom. You pick up your lemonade and take a sip, passing it to him, but not for too long of course.
Now that he's a little less hungry and a little more comfortable, Garou takes another look at this movie. It's still crap and only halfway through. Oh well. He closes his eyes. Just resting them for a moment, that's all. But soon you find his head heavy on your shoulder, arms crossed against his chest, his breathing slow and relaxed.
You flick him softly on the forehead but there's no response.
You're about to push him away but...he looks so surprisingly...innocent when he's asleep and you don't have the heart to do it. You give a little smiling smirk to no one in particular and turn back to the television, turning the volume down just a tad.