Five Ticks 'Til I'm Yours (Dark Ticci Toby x Reader)

21

One unbalanced, uneven step after the other, you made it down the polished staircase. Dressed snugly in one of the few shirts and pants Nora used to own, you made your way into the lounge area. The bodies were gone, not a drop of blood to be found. That's a good thing right? Feeling slightly queasy, you helped yourself to the kitchen, stale peanut butter sandwich, each bite a hassle to keep down. You finished off with a glass of water, sated at the very least, but still uneasy.

Was Toby out? It sounded like an awful idea considering what bad shape he was in last you saw him. Then again, he had moved these bodies. Perhaps you were underestimating him? After all, he was an un-killable, supernatural being, and all that jazz. He was also a murderer. You had just... with a murderer...

You felt sick again, the peanut butter rising to your throat before you coughed harshly, trying to calm down. It was okay, everything was okay.

"Hey," Toby ever so casually came walking in through the front door, dressed in a navy blue long-sleeve shirt and jeans. He had snow in his hair and he easily brushed it off before walking right past you and towards the couch. You now noticed the duffel bag that was laying there, left untouched since last night. He picked it up, hoisting it over his shoulder with ease before walking back out through the door.

A little fazed and a little curious, you began to walk towards the door. Peering outside you saw a truck, sleek and black. A new, bitterly cold gust of wind slammed into you and you quickly stepped back into the house.

"Put on a jacket," he was back through the door now, reaching for the nearby closet, leaving it open for you.

"Are we going somewhere?" you asked, grabbing the nearest coat from the closet. It was bright green and frilly, no doubt one of Nora's. Even though she was now dead, you felt as if you knew her very well. You pulled on the coat, trying not to think of the poor woman.

Toby turned to you then, his hands tightened around the inside of the coat as he tugged you towards him, your hips against his as he smiled down at you. What now? Was this going to become a regular thing? Were you okay with that? Geez, what did it matter, it's not like the sexual tension didn't exist before. It's not like you hadn't done other regrettable things with him.

"W-wo-would y-you like to go somewhere?" he asked rather playfully, his grip had loosened, his fingers moving towards the edge of the coat, wrapping around the buttons as he did them up one by one.

"Well that's one way to avoid my question," you grumbled.

"I'm extremely serious," he finished up the last button. "C-China? N-New Z-Zealand? Italy?"

"What's going on?" was your unamused response.

He made a face, a rather disappointed one, before pulling away. The Cabins light was suddenly flicked off before he moved towards the door, gesturing for you to follow. There really was nothing else you could do, so you obliged him and followed. Was it weird? Trying to act casual considering just how un-casual you two were last night? Sex did lead to awkwardness, but you decided to simply not think about it, trying to match your steps to his.

It was still cold outside, but the coat did help a little if at all. He propped open the trucks passenger door before walking around to the driver's seat. So, a road-trip was at hand. But why? What had happened? Had your time finally run out? Was his job in Canada done? Was he going to kill you now?

You instinctively tugged your seatbelt over your chest, he, obviously, did not. The truck pulled away from the cabin before turning onto a dirt road.

"Where are we going?" you asked again, your tone had noticeably sunken.

"N-not sure," he admitted, before his cold eyes narrow for a second, glancing towards you. "Grab me the bottle from the compartment."