Bury the Hatchet *Ticci Toby x Reader*

Silver.

I pulled the blanket closer to my face, feeling Toby roll over. After so long on the uncomfortable ground, I chose the more or less uncomfortable mattress. With a yawn, I opened my eyes, surprised to see him gazing at me. It was then that I actually saw his eye color. Russet brown, with specks of hazel. I could melt in those eyes.

After a minute of staring a hole into me, he began to trace the outline of my body with his fingers. I shuddered, returning the favor. We stayed silent for some time, just admiring each other, until he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in close.

I could feel his arm muscles tense as I caressed them. He was the best built out of all of us, though he wasn't bulging with muscles.

The sun was barely rising in the sky by that time, and so the others were still asleep. But, I worried that even the slightest shift could wake them, and it would ruin this strangely amazing moment. I took in his scent; predominantly of sweat and fire, but the smell of nature was still hidden there. Toby seemed to be doing the same with me, I wondered what I smelled like? Whatever it was, he seemed to like it.

He pulled me closer to him, until I was against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Every now and then, he would twitch, sending shivers down my spine. I could tell he hated Tourette's Syndrome, and I couldn't blame him. But, I couldn't help but love each one of his tics.

The silence last for some more time, until it was broken with his soft, deep voice. "How do you feel, pet? With that mark and all, is the sickness kicking in?"

I chuckled, barely recognizing my own voice. It seemed much more tired, much less soft. "Was my blowing chunks not enough of an answer to you? I feel like crap. And my arm hurts like hell."

I waited for his response, which didn't take long. "Yup, that sounds about right," we laughed quietly in unison, "but it shouldn't last too long. I recommend keeping that mark clean, though. Infection is easy to come by when you live like us, if this is what you call living." He grazed the wound, then rolled up his left sleeve. On his forearm was an identical mark, but it no longer was a cut, only a dark scar.

I hadn't wanted this. But I hoped that a silver lining like this would occur often. Just to keep me sane, to help me keep pushing. But, at the moment, I was occupied, and I never wanted to let that moment go.

Sorry, short chapter! Unfortunately this story will come to a close in a couple of chapters. But! I have have so many great ideas for new books, and I highly suggest reading them after this! If you want more quality 👌🏼 content like this, please follow me (I'm thirsty).

Stay vibin'

-A.B.