BigLove ~ BigPuffer × Reader

Chapter Twelve - Exhaustion

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Your eyes burst open, the alarm ringing over and over again. Groaning, you lift yourself up and reach over to turn it off - once it's off, you plop back down onto the bed, eyes shut again. Open. Close. Open. Close. Open. "What the fuck?" You shout, forgetting that Chris was staying. You cover your mouth while Chris slowly rises up, holding his weight through his arms against the bed. "Morning to you too, Y/N," he mumbles, eyes still shut, "Did I scare you?"
"I just forgot you were here, sorry," you apologise, giving him a hug.
"No need to apologise, do you need to go get ready for work?"
You groan loudly, dragging it on.
"I'm gonna take that as a yes," he responds, reaching out for his glasses.

Once they're on, he gets out of bed, and grabs the t-shirt he wore yesterday. Sliding it over his head, he smiles down at you, "Come on then." You groan again, causing him to pick you up, holding your back and your legs to keep you up, "Chris-!"
"I don't want you to be late for work, you need some breakfast too," he carries you down the stairs as you sigh in defeat.

As he reaches the bottom of the stairs, he positions you on the sofa to be sat up. Entering the kitchen, he grabs some bread before sliding it into the toaster. You listen to all his actions, all the noises he makes. "When do you start?" He asks, loudly.
"In about an hour,"
"You don't give yourself that much time to get ready,"
"Eh, if I do I'd end up sleeping in bed and missing it,"
"You make a good point,"
The toast pops, the smell of cooked bread filling the room. The knife scraps against rough surfaces, it's placed on the side afterwards. Plates are picked up.

He enters with a grin, "Here, breakfast. You strike me as the person who doesn't eat anything, and it worries me,"
"You'd be correct," you respond, causing you to both laugh. He hands you a plate, before sitting on the sofa and crunching into his toast. He toasted it how you like it, the rare occasion you have toast. It was buttered perfectly too, not so much that it's overpowering, but enough that you can taste it. It melts in your mouth with every bite, how can this toast be so delicious when it's the exact same stuff you use.

You finish, picking up each and every crumb left on the plate. You've never tasted anything like it, yet all it was just bread and butter. Chris opens his hand out, offering to take your plate, and you let him, "Do you need lunch to take with you, or do you get it there?" He asks, walking into the kitchen.
"I get it there," you respond, checking your phone.
"Alright, you know you've gotta get changed, right?"
"I knowww," you say, dragging yourself up the stairs.

"I'm leaving now, there's a key in a box under the sofa if you need to lock up," you announce to Chris, causing him to come to the front door. He pulls you in for a kiss, "Have a good day at work," he grins, "Let me know if you need anything."

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Cracking the door open, you re-enter the house, hastily taking your shoes off, dumping your bag on the floor and going into the living room to flop onto the sofa. You groan, covering your face with a pillow. You're absolutely exhausted, you didn't realise Monday's could get as busy as Friday's. People are so impatient, you hate having to deal it, but you need to pay for your house, so you can't necessarily quit. Jobs are sparse around here.

Footsteps, very light, come towards your corpse disposed onto the sofa. A hand rubs your shoulder, a voice whispers from above, "Oh, Y/N, do you need a hug?". The voice was soft, calming, smoothing. Reanimating your body, you lock your arms around the torso of the person on top. Other arms return the favour, twisting around you. You sigh, exhausted. Rising off the sofa, the arms lift you up, and position you on a lap. Your head falls onto a shoulder, fully relaxing you. He still has his arms around you. "I've done some shopping for you, I hope you don't mind." He whispers, his hold growing tighter, ensuring you don't fall.
"I don't," you groan.

You fall silent once more. His warmth, his scent, his slow breathing. It removed all stresses and anger which surrounded your mind. You let your body droop slightly, "Thanks, Chris." You mumble, hiding your face in his chest.
"You're welcome. Now, what do you want for dinner? I can cook you up anything."
"Eh, I don't feel hungry,"
"Well when you do, let me know," he rubs your back lightly, "I've got something I can cook up for you,"
"You're too sweet to me.." you grumble, glancing up at him.
"I try my hardest," he replies, lifting you up, "Do you need a drink of something? And I don't mean alcoholic," you lightly nod, causing him to place you onto the sofa. He gets up, going into the kitchen, and pouring out a glass of water, before returning with it. Passing the glass to you, you take a sip.

"I'm hungry now, actually. I'm sorry that you're having to do all this,"
"I don't mind, you know that. I just wonder how you did this for so long by yourself," he smiles, passing a remote to you, "Watch something while you wait and relax. You need it," kissing you on the forehead, he returns to the kitchen. You sit there, the television blurting out. Words start merging together, as your eyelids become heavy, and you feel yourself drifting off.

The past hasn't filled your mind ever since you left Boston. All you can think and dream about was Puffer himself. You always try and recall every single detail he has, but it's difficult once it's been a while. You always looked back at the photos, but it never made you feel the same way you did when they were taken. Every time you touched, every time you kissed, you kept replaying it over and over in your mind. You name coming from his mouth is just echoing. It's soothing, like a baby's lullaby, like waves crashing against a beach.

Eyes opening, you spot Chris sat next to you, holding your arm, repeating your name lightly. "Ah, there you are. Sorry to wake you up, are you still hungry?" He asks softly, rubbing your arm up and down.
"Yeah, I must have drifted. I'm sorry,"
"No no, don't apologise, do you want to sit on the sofa and have it?" You nod slightly, which causes him to slide a pillow into your lap, and place the bowl on top of that. Inside was a penne pasta coated in a white sauce, dotted with small ham pieces and diced leek. "It's Carbonara, I hope you enjoy it," Chris explains, while lowering himself down next to you with his bowl. You sit there, the television blasting with adverts playing back to back, consuming the dinner.

Before long, the bowls are empty. You grab the bowl and rise, pushing the pillow to the side. Chris follows, strolling into the kitchen ahead of you. Entering the kitchen, you place your bowl on the side next to his. He turns to you, gesturing to give you a hug. You lean in, accepting the offer. "Work tomorrow?"
"I'm working until Friday,"
"Okay, that's fine," he smiles down at you, "I'm worried about leaving you when I have to go back,"
"I'll be fine, Chris, I've been fine this whole time, what's gonna change?"
"I don't know, I'm sorry-"
"Don't worry about it, I'll be fine, Chris." Interrupting, you grin at him, hugging tighter. He returns the smile, but with a concerned expression on his face.

You climb the stairs sleepily, face-planting the bed as soon as you arrive to it. You hear a voice behind you chuckle, before raising you off of the bed, "Come on, unless you want me sleeping on the sofa?" He chortles, kissing you on the cheek. Your face colours a bright red hue, using your hands to try and hide it. "Mmmm fineeee" you mumble, under your hands. He chortles again, lowering you to allow you to stand up. He slides his hoodie and t-shirt off, and winks. You become even more flustered, covering your whole face once more. "You've seen it before, what's so special about it tonight?" You shake your head lightly, you face still smothered. He wraps his arms around your torso, glancing down at you. "Cmon, why are you hiding your gorgeous face?" He teases, pushing his face up against your hands.

You hastily pull them away, taking a quick kiss before covering up again. He groans lightly, "you're such a tease," he comments softly. His face was very warm, you could feel it through your hands. You remove them again, more permanently. He grins, "There you are," he cooes, pulling you in for a long kiss. You allow him, obeying.

You don't want ever want this to end.

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