xv | active shooter

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xv | active shooter

a/n: a calm chapter is coming, but this ain't it.

thanks for 400k, ya'll real ones , don't forget to vote

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Liam's left wrist has been in a cast for approximately four hours, and he's already over it.

I smiled so hard my cheeks burned when I was watching him try and eat a bowl of fruit loops at four in the morning. I screamed in laughter when Liam went to the bathroom and told me that he "couldn't wipe." And now I'm laughing so hard I nearly careen to the marble, bathroom floor as he tries to brush his teeth.

With his dominant hand restricted by the hard cast, most activities that Liam does by himself have become a chore. I can't lie, watching him struggle is entertaining, but even I can tell when Liam's had enough. Our day has been long, seemingly never-ending, and the exhausted look he gives the blob of toothpaste that managed to miss his brush and hit the floor is my sign.

I snatch his toothbrush out his right hand and grab the toothpaste he's positioned awkwardly on the counter. I squeal as Liam grabs my waist, drawing me closer to him and pinning me between his body and the marble counter behind me. He fights a playful smile as he lowers his head and opens his mouth.

"I never thought I'd ever have to brush your teeth for you." I rest a hand on Liam's cheek as I delicately run the bristles of the brush against his teeth.

He makes a weird sound out the back of his throat as he tries to form a response.

Liam moves his tongue to the side as I run the brush along both rows of teeth. His smile widens, until I push the toothbrush too far back, causing him to gag.

He wraps his hand around my wrist and pulls the toothbrush out his mouth before leaning over the sink and rinsing. He leans back, smacking his lips together. An amused expression rests on his face.

"It isn't my job to deepthroat."

His comment makes me laugh, hard. I lean against his chest, hiding my face from his as my laughing simmers down. I've been laughing at nearly everything since we returned home, which is my sign that I need sleep – but whether I'm sleep deprived or not, Liam's comment would've been funny.

"You're right." I rest a hand on his bare chest and lean my head back to glance up at him. Liam Elijah Luciano has no bad angles. "You're right, that's my job—" Disregarding his injured wrist, Liam bends slightly, wraps his arms around the back of my thighs, and hoists me up to sit on the edge of the counter.

His face nears mine, as his tone deepens and the volume he speaks at lowers. I run the palms of my hands over his shoulders as I part my legs, letting Liam settle between them, his waist pressed against the counter. I run my hands up the sides of his neck, letting them settle underneath his jaw.

"You were always good at it."

I wrap my hand around the back of his neck and tug him closer. "I appreciate the compliment," I mumble against his lips. His eyes are so brown, so beautifully brown. So warm and inviting, just like home. He's home. He'll always be home. "Now kiss me."

He does as I say.

It's quick, barely even a peck, and only leaves me wanting more. But I know where this will take us if he kisses me again. We've been dating for over a year now, and I can proudly say that deciphering each of Liam's kisses has gotten easier with time and experience.

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