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#mimimi hey guys sorry it's been literally like a decade since i've posted real content but HERE SHE IS !!!
buckys-black-dress · 1 year
Text
heaven won't be the same
a/n: hello!!!!! i know it's been, like, a really really long time since i've written for you guys. depression + nursing school = even worse depression. anyways, here's something that i wrote to just kinda get me back into the groove of writing. enjoy!
wc: 5.7k words
warnings: NONE. she's chill today.
[ bucky barnes x nurse!fem!reader ]
-
Is this is the right place?
Looks like it. Just knock. What's the worst that could happen?
Your hand lifts, albeit hesitantly, and raps against the wooden door.
You wait a moment before you hear shuffling on the other side, and then the lock turning and the door opens.
The blond who opens it stares at you, searching for some sort of recognition in your eyes, but comes up a bit short.
"Can I help you?" He asks slowly, clearly confused.
"Hi, I'm Y/N. I can't remember which one of you I spoke with, I think his name was Sam. But I'm here to look at the room you guys are renting?" You ask gently, maybe you were in the wrong place.
"Oh! You're Y/N! Yes, yeah, I know who you are, come in." Recognition dawns on the blue-eyed boy's face. "By the way, I'm Steve. I don't know how much Sam has told you about us but I wasn't expecting a girl to want to live with three guys." He chuckles and you return the laugh.
"Yeah, I mean I was a bit hesitant at first because I thought I'd get murdered by you guys or something, but Sam made it very clear that you're all very nice people and won't watch me while I sleep." You reply with a small smile.
Steve looks at you in silence.
"Just kidding!" You let out a laugh. "But my mom was a bit worried about me living with three men, but I convinced her nothing bad was going to happen. I hope."
"Hey, seriously though, we wouldn't want to make you feel unsafe. I know being a woman in this day and age in New York can be... less than pleasant. We're big on respect here at 6A." He flashes you a smile that for sure has made a girl weak in the knees before.
"Thanks, Steve. I appreciate that. I mean I know you guys probably weren't expecting a girl as your fourth roommate, so I'm just happy to find space where I can."
"I mean, hey, it's not what we were expecting, but we're not picky people." Steve shrugs. "Wanna take a look at your room? Then we can go from there and get your stuff moved in."
"Sure, sounds great!"
He leads you down the hallway and opens a door, revealing the room you saw on the listing.
After chattering about the room and how they were excited to have you live with them, he takes you back to main living area to wrap up any other loose ends.
"Alright, so like I said we do have two bathrooms so you might have to share with Bucky, since his room is also on that side of the apartment but that shouldn't be a problem. And also, I can help move in your things if you don't wanna go through the hassle of getting moving guys and all that."
"Oh, you don't have to do that for me, I don't mind at all-"
"Hey, no worries, I'm happy to help." Steve smiles and you nod in response.
"Thanks. I didn't know I'd be getting such a deal moving in with you guys." You laugh.
"I'm just happy to help. I'm sure Sam and Buck can also help since they'll be around later tonight."
-
And so it began.
All of your boxes were in the rented U-Haul at the front of your new home. You text Steve to let him know you're downstairs, and a feeling sits in your gut.
You were nervous to live with three random stranger men. Granted, Sam and Steve were both so nice, and you really are getting a great deal with this apartment, being so close to your work and all.
"Hey Y/N! Let's get this show on the road." Steve comes outside, guns blazing, (literally, have you seen his biceps?), and ready to work.
It only takes an hour or so to get all your things inside, and Sam was waiting inside to take things directly to your new room. Although you still haven't met Bucky, you knew it couldn't be too bad. Steve and Sam were angels.
-
The first time you met Bucky was when he returned from his shift. He worked as a bartender. He had odd hours and often didn't come back until 3 AM most nights that he worked.
Hence, the reason why he was confused when he saw you in the kitchen in the middle of the night.
"Hey... who are you?" He asked, dropping his keys into the bowl next to the door.
"Oh!" Your head whipped around at the sound of the door shutting "Steve mentioned that you worked weird hours. I'm Y/N." You extend your hand to him. "I'm the new roommate. I hope they told you about me." You huff out a laugh, hoping he wouldn't be completely weirded out by you.
"Oh, yeah. Sorry, I totally missed that you were moving in today. Don't worry, they did mention you." He returned your smile while shaking your hand.
His large, callused hand engulfing yours made your heart pound in your chest. Jesus. Are all the guys who live here male models? What the hell?
"Well, it was really nice meeting you, Y/N. I'm gonna head to bed, work totally got me shot. I'll see you in the morning?"
"Yeah, yes. I'm usually out the door by 6:30 by the latest, so I'll catch you if you're up." You smile.
"6:30 in the morning? Yeah, no chance I'll see you then but you'll catch me before my shift. I forgot, Sam did mention you were a nurse."
"For sure, I also have the next day off so that'll probably be a bit more realistic."
"How about we go get breakfast that day? On me, consider it a welcome-to-the-apartment gift from me." Bucky's grin spreads across his face, and you can't help notice just how handsome he is.
"Deal, Bucky. Good night."
-
After you both got over the initial awkwardness, you and Bucky became the most unlikely pair. Sharing a bathroom was breeze, your schedules aligned perfectly some days, meaning that the two of you spent most of your free time together.
It was a strange feeling. You loved becoming friends with Bucky. He was so easy to talk to, and understood you better than most others. It was so natural and easy with him, like you'd known him forever.
But another part of you was falling for him, and you knew it. You chose to ignore it, deciding that it was silly and that you just liked him as a friend. A best friend, perhaps.
At times, he did little things that made you think otherwise, though.
The cuddling during movie nights. The 'I got this for you because it made me think of you's. It was something that ate at you daily.
You two practically did everything together. In a way, it was like being in a relationship, but with no pressure. No expectations. Just two people, hanging out and being there for the other. It meant nothing (but everything, at the same time.)
He was always there for you. After a hard shift, you came home and sat quietly while you talked about whatever it was that bothered you. And after his shifts at the bar, he did the same.
It was almost too easy, the way you two could fall into a rhythms so easily. It was so nice to have someone to have around after moving into a new place. You two clicked effortlessly, it seemed.
And of course, they don't call it falling in love for nothing.
-
Tonight, you had a night shift, which meant you went to bed all day until about 4 PM and then proceeded to get ready for your evening at the hospital.
You were in the bathroom washing your face and braiding your hair back, then pulling on your under-scrub top.
The door creaks open, revealing a smiling Bucky.
He's dressed head to toe in black; a tight t-shirt that looks like it's a size too small, black jeans, black leather boots, and finally, a leather jacket thrown over his arm.
"I hate when you have the night shift. I'm so lonely during the day, and of course you have it on my one night off." He whines, and you shoot him a look through the mirror.
"Well, I wouldn't have taken the night shift but they were offering extra pay since no one wanted to cover. Sorry, honey." You turn around and pat his chest to move him out of the doorway, an exaggerated pout on your face.
Fuck me, those eyes, Bucky thinks to himself at the gesture.
Your touch sent a flutter of butterflies against his stomach, making him move out of your way so you could pull on your socks and gather your things into your bag.
"Where are you all dressed up for on your night off then?" You ask out loud while stuffing your arms through your fleece jacket.
"I- uh, funny story, actually." He laughs out a cough, "I have a date." He presses his lips together.
"Oh. A date." You stop what you were doing, back turned to him.
You can feel his eyes burning through the back of your head, but you can't turn to face him right now. Snapping out your thoughts, you continue gathering your things.
"Yeah, this girl at the bar, she works as a waitress actually. She asked for my number, and well one thing led to another and-"
"You don't have to explain yourself to me, Buck. I'm happy for you. Have a great date, I have to run. Good luck." You muster the best smile you can in that moment and practically run out of your room.
"Wait, are you okay?" He asks in a rush, following close behind you.
"Of course I'm okay, why wouldn't I be? I have to get to work." You were almost an hour early. You stop to fill your water bottle from the fridge and make your escape. "I'll see you tomorrow!" You yell from the hallway before the door shuts, the slam resounding through the emptiness.
The moment of silence in the elevator gets you lost in your thoughts for a minute.
A date.
With a girl who works at the bar.
You don't know why this is hurting your chest so terribly. The thought of Bucky, your closest friend, going on a date, tugs at something.
Whatever happens, you know you can't say anything. It's not your place. You just have to let it run its course, whether it goes in a good direction or not. You have to just do your best to be happy for Bucky.
-
Meanwhile, back at the apartment;
"Did Y/N leave for work already?" Steve asks, coming out of his room.
"Yeah, she basically ran out even though her shift isn't til seven." Bucky's brows are furrowed, still standing in the middle of the kitchen thinking about how you practically raced to get away from him.
"Why'd she leave so early?" Steve asks in confusion, eyes flashing to the oven, seeing the digital clock flashing 5:56 PM. "It only takes her like 20 minutes to get there."
While discussing, Sam pops out of his own bedroom, listening in on the conversation between the two.
"I don't know, we were just talking about plans tonight and she got really weird, all of a sudden. She grabbed all her stuff for her shift and just bolted." Bucky was incredibly confused, and it was clear in his tone and facial expression.
He looked like a lost puppy.
"So what are you doing tonight?" Sam asks, wondering what was bothering you. Maybe it was something Bucky said?
"I was just hanging out in her room while she was getting ready, and then she asked what I was dressed for and I told her about that girl, Christina, the one from the bar that asked for my number and asked to go on a date. Then she basically ran." Bucky shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know what even happened, she even said I 'don't have to explain myself to her,' and that she had to leave."
Steve and Sam shoot a look between each other, the latter breathing out a deep sigh.
"What? What's that sigh?" Bucky asks.
"Nothing, Buck. Have you thought that maybe the date was what was bothering her? You two spend a lot of time together, and maybe she feels a little... blindsided by this date." Steve reasons.
"What? Why would she feel blindsided? I tell her everything. She tells me everything. That's just how we are." Bucky responds with a shake of the head, hands flailing in the air.
"But what about her? Does she tell you about the dates she goes on?" Sam asks, and Bucky's brows furrow.
"What dates? She goes on dates? With who?"
Another look shared between Steve and Sam.
"See, maybe she doesn't go on dates. I really don't know. But that reaction is why she felt hurt by you telling her about you going on a date." Steve explains.
Bucky's lost.
"She has feelings for you, Buck. She has feelings and she's hurt that you're going on a date because she never goes on dates, and now she's realizing that she's going to get left behind in the dust when you meet another girl." Sam supplies.
Now Bucky's even more lost.
"But... why wouldn't she tell me she has feelings for me? She's never even indicated that there was anything she felt for me more than friends do." He explains, now wracking his brain for every single interaction you two have had.
"Listen... we don't know what goes on when you guys are alone. But what I do know is that you guys spend a lot of time together, and I think you guys both have some... unspoken feelings for each other."
Bucky stands there, contemplating what this meant. What was he saying? That he should come clean to you about his feelings for you? That going on this date tonight would be a mistake?
Fuck, the date.
"Listen, I gotta go. My date's expecting me." Bucky quickly dismisses the entire conversation, putting him arms through the arms of his leather jacket before heading out the door.
Another sigh was shared between the two men left behind in the apartment.
-
There were pros and cons to working the night shift.
Pros included that it was calm, most of the time. Nights meant time to catch up on charting and paperwork while patients slept, checking in on them when needed.
Cons included the fact that one of the major thoughts blaring in your mind was 'WHILE YOU'RE SITTING HERE MEASURING THIS PATIENT'S OUTPUT, BUCKY IS ON A DATE WITH A SUPER HOT GIRL FROM HIS WORK!!!'
It sucked.
You wished you could shut it off. Of course, you always had to make sure you were giving your patients the best care possible, but your mind was plagued.
Would you ever tell him how you felt? Could you ever take that risk? The thought of even telling him, let alone being rejected, makes you sick to your stomach.
He would never speak to you again. It would be weird between you two, and then it would be weird between everyone in the apartment, and you would never be able to show your face again and would have to move out. There’s no other feasible option.
Unless…
Unless Bucky liked you back.
But you don’t even let your mind wander there, because you couldn’t even stomach the thought of not being around them. They were your family, the people you spent the most time with, the ones you could always count on when you had a rough day or needed a shoulder to lean on. Especially Bucky.
You simply couldn’t lose them.
And so, your night shift went on and the world still spun, even with your feelings buried deep in your chest.
-
When you walked into your apartment at 7:30 AM, there were some things you noticed that weren’t there when you had left.
First, it was the pretty black kitten heels by the door that certainly weren’t yours.
Then, for example, a cute leather purse hanging from a barstool by the kitchen island that wasn’t yours.
You put two and two together, and despite the harsh clench of your chest, you decided you were too tired to even think about all this right now. You just needed to take a shower and go straight to bed.
After staying true to your words, you had just shut the door to the bathroom when you heard it open again. Then, the water running from the tap, and then you see the handle of your door turning.
Immediately, you throw yourself under your covers and act like you had already been asleep. You simply couldn’t face Bucky right now. Not after knowing that he brought that girl home, and not after she was probably still in his bed. That was just too far for you.
With your face away from the door, you try and make your breaths as even as possible, hearing the door click open.
You could feel Bucky’s eyes burning into you, but you weren’t giving yourself away. You needed sleep before dealing with this.
Once you hear the door shut, you let out a big breath, your heart practically leaping out of your chest. And with that breath, you allow your eyes to only well with tears, but not letting them fall.
-
You woke again at 3 PM, but with knowing you had the next day off you weren’t in any rush to start your day. You didn't even want to move. You felt as though you got hit by a bus, between the racing thoughts about... well you know who they were about; and then piled on with the unexpected code in the middle of your shift, it was not a peaceful night.
You got your much needed rest, but you were in no mood to face Bucky right now.
But alas, your stomach spoke (rather growled violently), and you had to eat something before your stomach folded in on itself.
As you crack the door open to inspect the hall, you see that Bucky's door is closed but you hear noises from the direction of the living room.
You weigh your options.
Go out and make yourself something to eat and possibly face Bucky.
Starve.
Although the latter was looking like a great option, another whoosh from your stomach made you man up and step out of the room.
You couldn't even bring yourself to look at who was in the apartment, eyes dead-set on the pasta sauce you knew was in the fridge.
"Hey, Y/N! How was the night shift?" Sam's chirpy question came from the couch.
"It was alright, had a code but he pulled through. What did you two get up to last night?" You ask, seeing that Steve and Bucky were sitting on the couch opposite to Sam.
You couldn't even look him in the eye, while you knew he was watching you.
"Not much, just had a few beers and chilled til Buck got back, caused quite the ruckus." Sam lets out a laugh, but the words pierced through your heart as you pour the pasta into the boiling pot of water you'd set on the stove.
"Oh, nice." You reply, albeit shortly. You didn't know what to say. But of course, your mouth runs farther ahead than your brain. "How was that date, Bucky?"
You didn't care how the date was. You know she came back here, and you had absolutely zero interest in finding out what they did together. You couldn't handle hearing him tell you about it.
"It was... it was good. She came back here after." Was all he said. He looked at you with those wide, crazy eyes. You wanted to crumble under his gaze, but instead you just turned around to focus on your food.
"Nice. Great. I'm glad it went well for you." You said, not facing him.
The three boys give each other a look, and the tension could be cut with a knife.
Another loud growl from your stomach.
Fuck.
You check and the pasta is cooked. You drain it, pour your sauce and cheese, and practically sprint back to your room with a resounding click of your door through the apartment. Dishes be damned.
-
Outside, breaths were still held.
"Jesus, Sam. Could you have made it sound worse than it was?" Bucky grits through his teeth, pushing his shoulder aggressively.
"Well, you did bring her back here. Did I misspeak?" He responds.
"No, but we just hung out! Nothing even happened! Why is this even so awkward between us? It's not a crime if I did sleep with her." Bucky defends, but is confused about this situation.
"Well, it wouldn't be a crime, but it sure wouldn't be a good thing that you slept with someone else when you clearly have feelings for her!" Steve chimes in as quietly as possible.
-
You feel so stupid.
The urge hits you like a truck.
Should you also be going on dates? What was it that was so deeply holding you back from doing what Bucky's doing?
You could make all the excuses you want; busy with work, too tired, and that you were happy with your friendships and current relationships, even if they were all platonic.
But that was all before, when you thought Bucky felt the same.
You thought that he was also happy with the way you two were. Doing all the things people in relationships do, but not speaking out about those deeply-buried feelings. And that was enough. You didn't need someone to tell you they loved you as more than a friend, you didn't need that yearning feeling to be filled.
It was all bullshit, anyways. Right?
Right?
Right.
He could date people and have a girlfriend that he could do all those things with.
It didn't matter.
Because apparently, you weren't that person to him.
So you would just have to accept that and move on with your life.
Alone.
Again.
-
"Again with these damn feelings! You two don't even know your heads from your asses, and you wanna tell me about how my feelings!" Bucky scrambles for words. He feels hot and uncomfortable all over, all the while trying to not raise his voice.
"Bucky! You felt that tension in here? Right? That was because she had a problem! And it could all easily fixed if you just said, 'Hey, I know this is crazy, but I like you! And I didn't sleep with anyone else because of that!' Huh? How 'bout that?" Sam suggests, like it was the easiest thing to do in the world.
"Yeah, and what if she laughs in my face? What if that's totally not the case?!" Bucky responds.
"Buck, I think you just need to trust us on this one. She likes you and you like her. I don't know what else to tell you to make you understand." Steve finally sighs and drops his shoulders, over this whole conversation.
"Listen, she has tomorrow off. If you two end up hanging out, you need to say something. The tension is just too much." Sam just sighs and turns the TV on, preemptively ending the conversation.
Bucky just went into his room, placed his headphones over his head, and spent some time alone to think.
Let's think rationally.
You went on a date, and you didn't sleep with her.
What Bucky was coming to realize, is that there was a reason he didn't sleep with her.
He just couldn't.
It felt wrong, like he knew that there was a reason why he couldn't do it, subconsciously.
And he fully went into the date wanting to sleep with her. That was his goal. But he knew that if he did, it would be the point of no return. For some reason, he just felt it in his gut.
Realistically, even if I slept with her, I probably would've been sick with myself. I couldn't even face her after that.
But why?
Because you like her, you absolute moron.
He thinks of all the moments shared between you two. The stares, the cuddling, the innocent touches that drove him insane. All of those things added up in his mind to become one big jumble of feelings and now his brain felt like it was going to burst from how much this was all hitting him at once.
He springs off his bed.
Before he even turns the corner into the living room, words are spilling out of his mouth.
"You know what, maybe subconsciously even my body knew not to sleep with her, but even then how could I know for sure she likes me?-"
But there you are, sitting between Steve and Sam, tears leaking out of the corners of your eyes, gazing up at him in shock.
Clearly, you three were in the middle of something.
"You didn't sleep with her?" Your voice is meek at the question.
"No. I couldn't do it." He says, like it was obvious.
"Why not?" You fire back.
"I- I just... can we not do this out here? Please?" Bucky practically begs. He can't confess his deep and utter devotion to you in front of his two best friends. They'd never let him live it down.
"Come with me." Bucky runs into his room, throwing you a hoodie of his that he knew you were partial to, and then slid on his own jacket. Shoes are stuffed onto his feet, and he sees you doing the same, but your eyes never leave his figure in confusion.
The keys are grabbed from the bowl, and the door swings open while he holds it open for you.
Before Bucky lets the door shut, he gives Sam and Steve a final look; meanwhile the two are jumping up and down and pumping their fists in the air silently. It was almost comical.
"Where are we going?" Your voice from behind him startles him a bit, forgetting what he was even supposed to be doing.
"Just- put this on, honey." He hands you his spare motorcycle helmet, and you almost want to protest, but you wanted to see where this was going.
So you comply and hold onto him for dear life while he weaves in and out of traffic.
He stops, finally, in front of the place you know Bucky always comes to when he has too much on his mind.
It's a wide expanse of the city, a rooftop that he somehow had access to; and you weren't sure what you were doing here.
"What are we doing here?" You don't even let your mind think about what he was here to tell you.
Was he here to break the news to you that he was seeing this girl?
But you still couldn't figure out why he would bring you here to tell you that, and why he hadn't slept with her last night. Did she mean more to him than he let on? Is that why he wanted to wait to sleep with her?
The thought sends you heart sinking into your stomach.
"I have something I need to tell you." Bucky pauses and gazes so deeply into your eyes, something swimming in his blue irises, but you couldn't tell what. That was what scared you the most.
"I... I haven't been completely honest with you about how I've been feeling as of late. And I can't keep... keep being dishonest to myself and you, Y/N."
Tears were welling against your lashline, begging to be released at his words.
This was it. It’s all about to be over for good.
He approaches closer, hands coming to your jawline; his hold so delicate and soft that it makes you even more upset.
"Y/N... You are the most important person in my life. I can't imagine sharing any part of my life without you. You're the only person I want to see when I have something on my mind, I yearn for your touch when you aren't there, and lately, I've been confused as hell trying to understand why." His soft voice makes you weak in the knees.
Cue more tears.
"I just... I'm sorry I waited so long to tell you. And I'm sorry I went on that date... I'm sorry for a lot of things."
"Can I ask you something?" You ask quietly.
"Of course, honey."
"Why didn't you sleep with her?"
The weight of the question sits heavily in the air, and Bucky's features soften a smidge.
"I couldn't do it. I tried to get myself into it, into her. Both figuratively and literally." He laughs at his own joke, "but no part of me wanted to spend time with her over you. All I could think about was you. The entire date, I was thinking about what you were doing. What you were thinking about. You're all that takes up my mind these days. It kills me, not being around you when you're gone. I wish I could express to you how much I love you, but there aren't any words that could explain the extent of my feelings for you, Y/N. All I can really say is that I love you. You're my best friend. I can't think of anyone else who has the same effect on me that you have."
All you can think of you when you hear those words is the pounding in your chest and the fluttering in your lungs.
A wet, snotty smile crosses your face and you let out a garbled laugh.
"You love me?" Your hands slide up his chest to his shoulders, fingers grasping onto them.
"For as long as I can remember, honey. You're everything to me. The stars, the moon, the sky. It's all you." He returns the same smile, large thumbs caressing under your eyes to swipe at the fallen tears at his admission. "Do you love me?"
The way he asks you the question makes it sound so minuscule, so minute and almost childish, because you think he knows the answer.
"I do. I love you so much that I can't even think properly when I'm around you, Bucky. You take up every inch of my heart and my mind. I love you." You confess, the words spilling out of you like they belonged to him.
The grin that stretches across his cheeks is almost unreal, like a cartoon character. You could practically see the hearts in his eyes at your words.
The kiss that he molds upon your lips with his own steals all the air out of your lungs, and while one of your hands threads through his soft locks at the nape of his neck and your eyes fall shut, the other slides down to his chest, resting right over his heart.
You feel it against your palm and fingers, the pounding of the organ at the feeling of finally kissing you.
You wish he could feel yours, equally as loud and obvious.
His own hands are cradling your cheeks ever so gently, but the way he's kissing you is anything but. It was full of want, need, yearning. Everything you’ve been waiting for for months, finally being released in this moment.
When he finally pulls away for air, your eyes remain closed. You never wanted this moment to end, and if you opened your eyes now, you're afraid you'll wake and this will all be a cruel dream.
"Let me see those eyes, sweetheart." He mumbles and you can almost feel the words against your lips.
When your eyes peel open again almost drowsily, Bucky's smile is all you see. His nose is still brushing against yours, and you feel weak in the knees all over again at the proximity.
"I love you. And you love me. You know what that means?" He says.
"What?" Is all you can muster to reply at the moment.
"It means I owe those two bozos at home an apology and a beer, probably."
The laugh that escapes you lights him up inside, the sound being his favorite thing in the world. If he could make you laugh forever, he'd die a happy man.
"They knew this whole time, y'know? They actually confronted me about it. I didn't even tell them first. I guess I was just that obvious." You laugh at the memory, Bucky fondly smiling.
"I expect nothing less from them. You should've seen Sam before I left last night. Acting like he was your dad or something." Bucky's large arms come to wrap around you, holding you against his body.
"Oh, I wouldn't wanna be on side of Sam's attitude. I'm glad you made it out alive." You giggle once more, arms looping around his neck.
"Now when we go back I'm gonna have to face the 'I told you so's' from them. Kill me now." He rolls his eyes at the thought.
"Well, if they kill you now, you wouldn't be able to take me out to dinner tomorrow night." You tell him coyly, like the idea was already put in place.
"Huh, seems like you're right, honey. Couldn't leave my one and only girl hanging."
Bucky finally releases you from his hold- not that you wanted to be released of it- and walks towards the stairwell to head back down.
"C'mon. We've got a movie and ice cream waiting for us at home, sweetheart." He holds out his hand, and you don't hesitate to leap forward and grab it in your own.
"Let's go, Buck. I have lots to tell you about my shift last night."
"Oh, I'm sure the night shift was just riveting." He laughs as he leads you down the steps.
"Yeah, well all I could really think about was you being on a date with that girl, so yeah, maybe not the most pleasant time to have all night to yourself." You scoff.
"Well, you're never gonna have to worry about that again, will you?" He steals another peck from your lips, the blush creeping across your face at the gesture.
"I suppose not, no."
-
fin.
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