Chaos Walking Imagines

You Ain't Stupid | Todd Hewitt

i am so in love with todd hewitt uGH

this includes no spoilers from any books!! requested by aussie_mantle

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You squinted in the dim light of the dawn. The suns weren't nearly high enough to give any light through the mountains and trees, so it was more than a little odd to see Todd Hewitt bent over a leather bound book, fingers rubbing the middle of his forehead.

You approached slowly and tilted your head. "Todd?"

He looked up quickly, and like he was embarrassed, swept the book off his lap and into his rucksack. He kicked it behind the log he was sitting on and froze.

You almost laughed, but you knew he was sensitive. Todd was your friend, so it was no secret to you that he didn't know how to read.

"It's just me," you said, but that didn't seem to be any better. You inched closer and knelt beside him, picking a rock from beside the log and fiddling with it, getting mud all over your fingers. "Todd, it's just me."

"I know," he said, but he didn't move.

"Was that your mother's journal?" you asked.

He didn't answer for a minute. Then, he frowned and turned away. "Mind yer own business," he spat.

"Seriously?" you asked. "Todd." He didn't answer or even look at you. You huffed and stood up, dropping the rock and throwing your hands up. "You know what! Fine." You turned to storm off.

"___," he said. "Just stop."

"If you don't want to talk to me-" Your voice cracked. You wanted to just be with him, since he always left and moved on and you never knew when you'd see him again.

"I do want to talk to you," he said, and you heard him stand. "I want to talk to you a lot, and that is my problem! I am stupid and yer-" He gestured to you, and his eyes were full of tears-

And something else.

"Todd," you said, stomping towards him. "You ain't stupid." You threw your arms around his bony shoulders and yanked him close, your boots digging in the mud as you stretched up to hug him tight. "You ain't even close to stupid."

His hands touched your waist and he dipped his head, his wet lips touched the dip of your shoulder. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, and you squeezed him tighter.

"Why?" you demanded. "Because you can't read? Todd Hewitt, there are a million other things you can do." You looked at him. "But if you want to learn to read, I'll teach you. I will."

He didn't say anything, but he didn't stop you from walking over to the log, sitting down, and digging the journal out of the bag. He sat down next to you and watched as you cracked open the cover. And, as you started to read, he heard you speak all the words from his mother.

You read to him all day. Through the morning, into the afternoon, stopping for lunch and continuing on through dinner. You read until the suns were gone and then you read by light of the fire.

And he watched you as you spoke every word, all the way to the end and back to the beginning and to the end again. His heart softened at every part, every sound of your voice, and your singing.

When he was used to the sound of words, you scooted close to him and pointed to each word, helping him sound it out. He read aloud, a little messy, and you corrected him gently, encouraged him, and made him feel okay.

Halfway through the second time he read, he took your hand.

As he finished it, the fire was dying and Todd was half laying down on the grass, head propped up by the trunk behind his head. He looked at you and put the book away.

You were curled up next to him, head on your arm, eyes shut, lips parted. He scooted close to you, molding his body to fit the spaces of yours. He put one hand on your arm and let his eyes search your sleeping face.

"Thank you," he mumbled, voice dry. He leaned in and pressed a kiss right on the center of your forehead. He pictured his mother doing the same to him when he was a baby. He pulled back, thumb stroking your cheek, and laid down.

He just kept looking at you.

After an hour or so, he started to get up. But you had grown so accustomed to his heat and the softness of his hand against your arm that you woke, panicked and afraid. You made small fists around his shirt and held him close.

"Todd," you whimpered, "stay."

He froze, then relaxed. "___," he breathed.

"Stay," you pleaded.

He tried to say no, but he couldn't. He laid back down. "Okay," he said. "I'm here. I ain't goin' anywhere."

He stayed there until morning, sometimes sleeping, sometimes just looking at you. When the sun came up, he had to get up. He could hear Angharad and her Noise, asking for food and for company.

He started to get up.

"Todd," you complained, not moving.

"I'm sorry," he said, and he pressed his lips to your cheek, chilly from the morning air. "I got to go."

"Don't," you said softly, but you were too tired to fight. He peeled your hands off his shirt and pushed you gently down on the moss. "Todd-"

"Shhh," he whispered.

Before he left, be found a blanket for you and stomped out the hot coals. He left you food and water and promised your sleeping figure that he would come back. He wished he could write it down for you.

He stood next to his horse, petting her mane, looking at you. He had nothing but love in his heart.

"I love you," he said.

He turned away, guiding his horse to the left, wanting so badly to look behind him and gaze at you some more.