Chapter 19 - Easy to Forgive

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"I'm having some serious deja vu right now," you remark, finally filling the silence between the two of you.

It's been quite tense since you left the others, both not wanting an argument to ensue after the tiring day. Matt doesn't respond, apart from seldom winces as you disinfect each of his wounds.

After a while, you get sick of the quietness again. "I told you to stay home," you mumble, finishing the stitches on his back. 

"Are you serious right now? You would've gotten yourself killed-"

"You think I don't know that? I'm trying to say thank you here," you say sternly, placing the bandage over his shoulder blade with more pressure than you intended to. "Sorry."

"It's fine," he turns back around to you. "I'm grateful that you followed me. It's just- sometimes- I don't know," you pause, scratching the back of your neck.

"You're afraid to ask for help?" he infers, placing one of his hands on your knee consolingly. "I just don't want another person to get hurt because of me."

"I've been at this for a lot longer than I've known you. If I get hurt, it won't be your fault," he says softly, cupping your face with his other hand. 

Your faces inch closer together, until your forehead is resting against his. "What are we doing Matt," you sigh out, knowing where this is headed.

"Whatever you want," he responds in a low voice, his hand on your knee slowly moving further up your thigh. Your eyes flicker to his lips, contemplating it for a moment, before quickly standing up from the bed and rushing into the bathroom. 

You slam the door behind you with such force you almost break it off its hinges. You twist the lock on the door as you slide down along it, sitting down on the floor. Your heart feels as if it's about to beat out of your chest, the cold bathroom tiles only able to do so much to cool you down.

Matt is equally flustered on the other side of the door, pacing around the room. He runs one hand through his hair, worried he said or did the wrong thing.

You don't know what to do, it's not like you can hide out in the bathroom all night. You also don't have enough money with you to get yourself a separate room, or bed for that matter. But if you go back out there, what you've tried to prevent for so long, is bound to happen.

After approaching the door for the third time, he finally knocks on it, making you jump slightly. "Y/n? Is everything alright in there?" he asks, his concerned tone not at all helping to slow your quickened breathing.

"Yeah, yeah. I uh, I think I'm going to have a shower," you call out, attempting to be calm in your response, but knowing he can sense you're anything but. 

You head over to it and turn it on, taking off your suit in the process. At the sound of your suit unzipping, Matt's desire for you only grows stronger.

The hot water flows down your body, washing away the grime and sweat accumulated from the past few days. After a while you switch the shower to the cold setting, subduing the burning sensation in the pit of your stomach.

As you step out of the shower, you look at yourself sternly in the mirror. 'Get it together,' you instruct yourself, in your head, obviously not wanting him to hear you. You grab the bathrobe from the hook on the door, tying the belt securely around your waist before unlocking the door. 

Glancing at your suit on the ground, there's no way you're putting it back on tonight. You open the door, walking past Matt to the bag on the floor and taking out a toothbrush and toothpaste.

"You were in there for a while," Matt comments, and you glance over at him. "I guess I was," you reply nonchalantly, strolling back into the bathroom and starting to brush your teeth.

Matt walks in past you, startling you. You spit out your toothpaste, giving him a pointed look. "I'm sorta busy here."

"You're not the only one who needs a shower," he responds, as you finish up brushing your teeth. "It's alright, I'm done now anyway," you walk out, closing the door behind you.

You tidy away the rest of the equipment, clearing the bed before lying down. Staring at the ceiling, you try to reassure yourself why it wouldn't be a good idea for anything to happen with Matt.

For one, he's your boss and friend, and two, both of you have dangerous enough lives before having to worry about each other. But then again, you already worry about him, and seeing as he came all the way out here, he does too. 

He's still your colleague though, that doesn't change, and it would really fuck up your work relationship. You shouldn't have sex with him, simple as that.

The bathroom door opens again, Matt standing there in his towel as he messes with his wet hair. "You got another toothbrush in that bag?"

"I don't know, let me check," you hop off the mattress, and amble over to the bag. You kneel down, rooting through it before finding one. 

"Yup," you turn, expecting him to be at the door, instead met by him directly behind you. It's almost scary how he can move so silently. You swiftly stand up again, embarrassed by the compromising position you were in.

"Can I have it, or do you plan on keeping it?" Matt remarks, and you realise you were still holding onto it. You give it to him, his hand giving yours a gentle squeeze before taking it off you and heading back to the bathroom.  

You clear your throat, your heart pounding once again. The worst thing is, you know he's aware of the effect he has on you, it's extremely difficult to hide anything from him. 

You're unsure of the exact point it occurred, at the start it was easy to lie to him, and pretend you weren't interested. But for some reason, now, it's like you've lost all of your prior control. And not having complete control over yourself, you hate it.

As you look at him through the gap in the door, you know he can feel your stare. "Hey Matt?"

"Mhm?" he hums in response, unable to speak as he's still brushing his teeth. "I'm going to ask you something, and I need you to be honest with me. I'll know if you're lying anyway."

He spits out his toothpaste, turning around and leaning on the bathroom door, facing towards you again. "Okay, shoot."

"I know that you're attracted to me-"

"Oh do you?" he interrupts you, raising his brow in surprise, you usually aren't this direct with him. "I'm a catch, I don't blame you," you say flippantly, before reverting back to a more serious tone, "But I have to know."

You take a deep breath, figuring out how to word your question. "Who am I to you? What is this? Because we need to be on the same page." You watch his face for any kind of tell, not anticipating his expression to soften.

"It hasn't been that long since we've known each other," he begins, stepping away from the door towards you. "And you're one of the most stubborn people I've ever met. But somewhere along the way, you've become the most important person in my life."

Taken aback by his words, you have to stop and think before speaking up again, "So what does that mean for us? Because I don't want to mess up-"

"God, just shut up," he groans, pacing back across the room. "Excuse me?" you utter, narrowing your gaze at him angrily. 

"I get it, we're friends, we're co-workers. But I'm fucking tired of it Y/n," he explains, turning back around to you. "You'd expect for someone who's willing to put her life on the line so regularly to be less terrified of commitment."

"I'm not," you reply bluntly, folding your arms. "Then what's stopping you? Because I know you want this too." 

"Nothing, I just wanted to be sure."

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