An: Ok. I know this chapter is short but it's gonna go into the next chapter centering around y/n next lol. Sorry for such a long wait as well. But I promise that I have some good stuff planned for the next few chapters.
"-Tell me, frankly, have you ever loved?
-Let us not touch on old wounds not yet healed."
-Anton Chekhove, from the works of Anton Chekhov; "A Play,"
Flynn was lost in you. It bled into his every waking thought. The sound of your voice. The words carved from your lips a deadly song. He would do anything to hear you speak. It was in your scent. Sweet and tantalizing. It stole his very breath. His lungs yearning to be full of you.
You. You lit his body on fire. Pins and needles along his skin. Electrified his soul.
Flynn craved the taste of you. Your lips on his. To listen to the sweet sounds you made. To be able draw his fingers along your skin once more.
The wrench misses a bolt. Clattered to the floor. The sound barley echoing in the silent room.
Flynn B.J Taggart was a mess. All of it was your fault. Truly it was a problem that wasn't really a problem.
He wonders often if he can tell you. Speak those three simple words that leave him breathless. His tongue heavy in his mouth. It bites his lips. Not wanting to pass them.
If he spoke them it would be all to real. To tangible. To.
To vulnerable.
Flynn has been avoiding you. He knows this. Accepts it. He only reaches out to you during your healing. Futhered along faster due to the medical care within the fortress.
He picks the wrench up. Pushes his chair away from the armor he was repairing. It would be a long process leaving him away from earth for at least two weeks.
Two weeks here with you.
You. He doesn't think you realize that he knows that you are here. The soft pull of breath. The smell of a warm meal. The smooth shuffle of fabric and the clinking of dishes against the table.
The door closes behind you as you leave.
Alone. He was alone.
With a heavy breath he rises from the chair. Stretching stiff muscles and popping joints as he looks to see what you left him.
Spaghetti. A glass of water. The very same meal he gave to you the first day the two of you truly met.
The Slayer eats in silence. Plate held in one hand. Leaning against the table with one ankle crossed over the other.
Halfway through he pauses. Something ears at his chest. A swell and surge of emotions. Flynn finds himself missing you. The soft banter. Your laughter. The curl of your lips as you smile. Just. Talking while the two of you are.
He finds himself yearning for your company.
Suddenly he is no longer hungry.
Something burns him. Familiar and ancient. The company of one kept for so long it might as we be him.
Anger.
At him.
At you.
His emotions and feelings.
His needless and fleeting emotions.
He pauses. No. Not needless. He huffs in frustration an runs his knuckles against his jaw. Stubble scratches his hand.
YOU ARE READING
Veni, Vidi, Amavi.
Fanfiction"Truly." He rumbles. Deep and heavy in his chest. "You are not afraid of me?" You kiss the palm of his hand. "No. Never. Not of you. Not of this." He presses his head to yours. Brushes your nose against his. His other hand pulls free from your grasp...
