Save me - [COMPLETE] Connor x Reader

5. CINDERELLA

You replayed the day in your head over and over again. The static of your memories began to feel like barbs groping around your skull. You let your left arm dangle away from your body, as if it had betrayed you.

After leaving the crime scene, Connor convinced you to stay the night at Hank's house. He insisted you needed to relax; something about how you hadn't eaten all, how you had hardly slept - all things you didn't care about right now.

You found yourself in the washroom. Yellow tiles lined the walls, cheery and happy, the opposite of Hank. Little bits of the man were scattered throughout, like how he had three bottles of the same shampoo, or how he had posted a not-so-motivational note on the mirror. The towel he had given you to use had embroidered ducks, wearing scuba gear. Did Hank have a kid? You didn't dare to ask.

Turning on the tap, the sound of droplets soothingly echoed against the tub. You let your clothes fall into a pile on the floor, reaching a hand into the water to test the temperature.

"You gonna talk about it?"

You could just barely hear Hank's voice through the white noise of the shower.

"Not here, Hank." Connor replied.

You silently tiptoed to the door and gently pressed your ear against it.

"She can't hear you past the shower."

Did Connor just sigh?

"I saw you hugging her. Looked, uh, pretty intense."

"I thought it was appropriate for the situation."

"Don't fuck around. I didn't see you hugging me that day I was piss drunk with a gun."

Connor didn't respond.

"You feel something towards that kid don't you?"

You felt every muscle in your body freeze as you waited for Connor's response,

But no response came.

Did they stop talking?

Suddenly the door flew open, revealing you - crouched, surprised, naked - but Connor looked even more shocked than you. Other than a slight part of his lips, he was completely unresponsive.

"GOD DAMN IT CONNOR!" Hank came scrambling around the corner, one hand over his eyes and the other using walls to find his way.

The sound of Hank's booming voice shuddered Connor's shoulders, waking him from his state. He blinked once, twice, then three times. His mouth was moving but no words came out.

You saw a hand pat the top of Connor's head, fumbling to his cheeks, and then finally his collar. With that, Connor disappeared from the washroom followed by a slam of the door and trail of curses.

Maybe it'd be better if you had a cold shower.

–

The kitchen was a strange sight; Hank hovered over the counter whipping up pancakes from scratch while Connor leaned against the side of the wall donned in Hank's baggy clothing.

"I am curious," Connor had resumed his normal demeanor, apparently deleting the recent events from his memory "if you can cook pancakes, why do you eat out everyday?"

"And I'm curious why you don't mind your own goddamn business." Hank scoffed as he flipped a pancake in the air.

Hank's dog, Sumo, rested his head on your feet while you sat at a small wooden table in the middle of the kitchen. He was a Saint Bernard that Hank insisted was vicious, but had yet to be proven anything but an angel.