Saint Denis Sweetheart (Sean MacGuire x Reader)

(13.) Shouldn't Have Said It

Sean hadn't seen you leave, but he saw you return. Suffice to say he was not thrilled to see that you had been out with Kieran. He was jealous. Like, really jealous.

He tried to keep calm, but his flamboyant and cocky nature walked him over to the wagon.

"Why's there blood all over ya?" He asked, eyeing Kieran.

"Ambushed," you said cooly, helping Kieran grab supplies.

"By who? O'Driscolls? 'Cause if he's the one who caused—" he said, pointing at Kieran.

"It was Lemoyne Raiders, Sean. Calm down. And he isn't an O'Driscoll."

He watched Kieran angrily as the three of you walked to Pearson's wagon.

"It had nothin' to do with me, I swear!" he nervously said.

"I'm sure," Sean snapped, causing you to get agitated.

"You can go help the horses, I've got the rest," you said to Kieran, trying to dismiss him.

"You sure? I don't mind at all—"

"I've got it, I promise. Go on."

Kieran walked away feeling Sean's angry gaze burning into his back.

"What was all that for?" you asked, turning to Sean. "Why do you all gotta bully him so much?"

"He's an O'Driscoll, y/n. Our worst enemies. We don't trust him and we don't like him."

"Well he ain't an O'Driscoll, and he's quite sweet. Sweeter than you're being right now."

He crossed his arms. "I Just don't understand why you're getting so warmed up to 'im."

"Because he ain't as bad as you all think he is, if you would just give him a goddamn chance."

You grabbed the last bag and put it on Pearson's table with a happy thanks from him.

You began walking to the river to wash up and Sean followed close behind.

You had begun to calm down now that you'd expressed how you felt about Kieran. "You know, I wanted to take you, but you were busy with Lenny and you've been ignorin' me lately to be with him. But I really wanted to go with you."

Sean's cheeks got red and he felt a sense of pride at your words.

But it was slowly replaced by guilt for spending so much time with Lenny. He'd hardly made any progress in the past three days—it wasn't like it was going to take a day to read fluently, but it was still going slowly—and he hadn't found much time for you.

"I wasn't ignorin' you, I..." he sighed quietly, resting on a rock as you cleaned up in the river. "I wanted to learn how to read so I could be smart like you and Lenny. Have those intellectual conversations you two like so much."

"Is this about the other night? Sean, I was just kiddin'."

"Yeah, but you were right. I wouldn't get it. But I want to, I want to be able to talk about that stuff. Cause I—well, I quite like talkin' to ya. Even if it's about Evelyn Miller an' silly words."

You shook your head, sighing and smiling. Your face got warm and you looked down at the ground, thinking of what to say. "Sean, I like you just the way you are. Don't try to change something for me. You're simple, that's why I like you. Short and sweet, none of that fancy-facade nonsense like Miller. Just be you, Sean. If you really want to read, fine, but from what Lenny said it didn't seem like you were interested at all."

He felt butterflies in his chest and his stomach. You liked him the way he was? Those words alone made him feel a little weak.

"I'm not," he chuckled. "Why read a book about stealin' when you can actually steal? Where's the fun in words instead o' actions, eh?"