αяє тнσѕє му ¢нυ¢к тαуℓσяѕ? *:.｡..｡.:*ℍ𝕠𝕓𝕚𝕖 𝔹𝕣𝕠𝕨𝕟 *:.｡. .｡.:*

𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖤𝖱 𝖳𝖧𝖨𝖱𝖳𝖸-𝖲𝖨𝖷: 𝖤𝗏𝖾𝗋-𝗌𝗈-𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖥𝖺𝖼𝖾

Hobie POV:

So many thoughts and feelings overwhelm me, making the movements of my hands erroneous. Her shirt is lifted, the hem tucked into the collar to keep it up and out of my way.

y/n is clearly unsettled, as I hear her clear her throat and wiggle in my grip over the ceramic of the countertop.

Without thinking, I hold her down, her skin burning hot against my fingertips as they make contact with the bare skin of her waist. "Sit still, sugar."

"I thought we talked about you not calling me that." Her movements cease, her body tensing beneath my touch.

I swipe a fresh cotton pad over a dirtied graze, grime and crusted blood tainting the once-white fibres. "Yeah, we talked about it. I didn't agree to shit."

Too focused on my task, I only just manage catch her response. "Fuck you."

"Please do." Separating a few steri-strips from their plastic sheet, I expertly close a fresh cut that sits about an inch or so above her waistband, pinching the open flesh back together.

A groan sounds from her, and I feel its vibrations as my fingertips brush over the skin of her lower back. "Oh my god, I hate you so much right now." Despite the bumps of recently developed grazes from the harsh concrete outside my apartment, her skin is otherwise smooth, soft on the callouses of my hands. The contrast only excites me further.

"But the distraction is working, is it not? Ya didn't feel a thing." As much as I wish to stare at her perfect skin all day, I force myself to untuck the base of her shirt from the collar, letting it glide down to obscure the newly covered cut. 

"Huh?" y/n's head tilts downwards, most likely assessing the contents of the counter.

Squeezing her hipbones one last time, I spin her around. Against my will, I feel a pleased grin spilt over my face at how she yields herself beneath my touch. "You had a cut just above ya waistband. But she's all patched up now."

Eyes basically level with mine, her gaze roams my face. Hands planted on either side of her thighs, I unconsciously move in between her legs. Knees knocking into my hips, a surprised breath escapes me. Eyes unyielding, she continues to assess my face, gaze soft.

I can't help but melt beneath such beauty.

"You're staring."

After running down the length of my face and cheek bones, her eyes finish their study of my features at my lips. "I don't care."

She leans in.

I automatically wet my lips at such closeness, breath completely leaving me.

I suffocate beneath her eyes, my heart pounding, pushing from out my chest in rhythmic pulsations.

Can she feel my heart? My excitement?

More importantly, does she feel the same?

Lips parting slightly, a whisper of a breath escapes her lips, tickling over my chin. Its warmth seeps into my skin, pooling over my cheeks as they heat at the situation.

I will to close the gap.

I will for me to move, to feel those lips graze mine.

Even just for a second.

Just for a bloody second.

My watch starts to vibrate, but I hardly feel its reverberations, too caught in the feeling of her breath on my face, her eyes on my lips, her thighs pressing into my sides.

The feeling of her.

"Someone's calling you." It comes out in only a whisper, warm breath caressing the curve of my bottom lip. I can practically taste her.

I don't dare say anything. Don't dare ruin such a precious moment, one that I've been waiting for, for so damn long.

Its almost as if we are sharing oxygen.

Her breath in, mine out.

My inhale becomes her exhale.

The buzzing of my watch ceases, only to continue again with a separate call.

Her eyes glint with the unknown. What is she thinking in this moment? Is this real? Am I just a game to her?

As if on cue, her eyes leave mine, the moment fizzling into nothingness. "You better answer. Its Miguel." Leaning back, y/n's gaze moves to the ceiling. The eyes that once ever-so-gently caressed by lips now waste their beauty on the damn roof.

An odd sense of protectiveness overwhelms me.

I want to be the only thing she ever looks at. The first thing she sees in the morning. The only thing she sees during the day, and the last thing she sees before slipping into a peaceful slumber at night.

"Uh, probably."

Accepting the call, a miniature hologram of Miguel flashes red and blue, hovering just above the screen of my watch.

"Why did n/n's heartbeat drop for 5 minutes? What's happening? Why did it take you so long to pick up my call?" His gruff voice, normally so tense and demanding, has melted into something else.

He's panicked.

"She's fine now." I manage, not letting my eyes have the pleasure of roaming over her lovely face again.

"The shock do you mean now? Hobart, what happened?"

Wincing at the usage of my full name, I open my mouth to respond, but y/n beats me to it.

"I kinda grew legs from my back. Uh, spider legs." Judging by the tone of her voice, she's most likely grinning sheepishly, dimples making an appearance. Such an intoxicating curve of a lip, quirk of a brow, pink tinge gracing the apples of her cheeks.

Don't give in.

"HQ. Now."

The click of the receiver echoes through the bathroom, and I let out a breath I didn't realise I was holding.

"Welp." The ceramic squeaks from the sudden friction of her butt sliding from the vanity. y/n gently nudges past me to get to the doorway. "Thanks for patching me up."

"Uh, yeah." Dumb brain. Say more!

She must sense that I wish to say more as she stops in her place, eyes expectant. But the words never leave my lips, drying in their place on my cotton-mouthed tongue.

And with that, the girl I was so close to kissing two seconds ago leaves the room with only a whisper of a smile left on her ever-so-appealing face.

~

A/N:

heehee

idk what to put here

help

ive recently been writing chapters at school during english (embarrassing)

(later edit) wrote shit on alejandro at school today and my friend wanted to read it since she likes my writing so i let her and she asked how to say his name 😭