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thepenultimateword · 2 years

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I've come out of hiding because I love you and your writings, also

https://thepenultimateword.tumblr.com/post/693443435507662848/short-prompt-33 thisssssssss needs morreeeee can I has a part two?

Now here me out, I'm sure your swamped because your amazing and havr all the asks in the world so I'm NOT expecting ANYTHING ANYTIME soon, this is simply because I think it's amazing and like any book I wanna read the next 'chapter' ❤❤❤

Have a great week!!

D’awww thank you so much!!

Sooo, I am swamped but I actually have an idea for this one and don’t want to lose my motivation to write it, so you’re in luck 😜

Part One

Henchman B slunk into the employee dorms somewhere around 3 in the morning. The dingy yellow light of the common area's only vending machine cast shadows in the hollows of their face, stretching the purple bruises around their eyes and along their bottom lip longer.

Henchman A lifted their head groggily off the sofa arm at the front door's familiar beep and squeeeal and blinked in the double layers of clothing and slow, limping walk.

“B!” they cried, leaping off the couch with sudden and intense alertness.

B's head swiveled halfway toward them, dark eyes drinking them out of the shadows for several silent, nerve-wracking seconds. They sighed, closing swollen eyelids and drooping already limp arms down to their knees. “Couldn’t you have just gone to bed?”

The comment sent a wash of ice through A's bloodstream, but they ignored it, approaching close enough to see the burst blood vessels staining B's face like an inkblot painting. What was the picture though? Destruction? A bleeding heart? A butterfly stripped of its wings, torn, ugly, helpless? Whatever it was, it sent A's chest aching.

"What did Villain do?" It came out lower than a whisper. A half-dared question.

“Nothing.”

They swished past A with a dangerous wobble and, wincing, eased down onto the couch. Was it too painful to make it all the way to their room? Or did they simply not want A watching them move, picking out each flinch and stumble?

“I’ll get the first aid kit,” A said, already turning toward the bathroom.

“No!”

A’s heart nearly leaped right out of their chest and their feet froze to the spot, numb and solid. They dared peek back, but B only closed their eyes and rubbed the bruised bridge of their nose.

“Please. Just leave.”

A parted their lips and closed them again. Their eyes fixed on their hands, clenched nervously around the hem of their shirt. They picked it this morning because they knew B liked blue, especially the dark, dreary shades, but now it just reeked guilt.

It was probably for the best that they left. They'd caused B enough trouble today, the least they could do was listen to them for once. Maybe they should trade shifts with another henchman and get out of their life completely. Was that too extreme? Compared to what B had done for them today, it didn't feel like it. In any case, they should at least apologize.

A turned around slowly, shuffling up in front of B's knees. Talking to B had always been so easy, even with the other henchman's cold manner. But now trembling lips searched to form words and nothing came.

"A, please--"

“I’m sorry," they croaked.

They glanced up at B for some sign of acceptance or hatred, but their expression was bland as ever. If it weren't for the slight tilt of their head aiming their good ear in their direction, A wouldn't even know they were listening.

"I’m so stupid," A continued. "This is all my fault. I should have said something. I should have told the truth as soon as you took the fall. This--" They waved up and down at B's battered body. "--should be me. But I'm just a selfish coward. I'm so sorry."

B continued to stare. Their lack of response filled in by the vending machine's electric drone and A's quiet sobs. The ceiling creaked overhead as some other henchman shifted in bed.

Please, just tell me you hate me. Please, get it over with.

B let out another signature sigh. "You speaking up only would have gotten us both beat. You for letting in a hero, me for lying. It would have defeated the point of me rescuing you in the first place."

Warm callused fingers found their way to A's eyes and gruffly rubbed away the trailing tears.

A's breath caught in their throat. What was happening right now? B had never touched them before. Not outside of sparring at least. Sometimes A had imagined what it might feel like for those hands to rove their face but never had their imagination come up with a scenario like this.

All at once it was over. Those hands pulled away and B dropped back down on the couch cushions with a soft groan.

A swallowed. A question buried under their own guilt and worry finally dragging itself to the surface.

"Why...did you save me?"

"Hm?"

"It's not as if we're close... And all I ever do is flirt and bother you. You threatening me all the time was always fun, but they're still threats. I thought it would have been satisfying to see me finally get my just desserts for all the annoyance I've caused you."

B blinked. "We've been co-workers for three years."

A stared at them. What did that have to do with anything?

"Yeah?"

"We spar together, eat together, work together. I know your strengths, your vulnerabilities. And I'm far stronger than you. Don't you think if I wanted something to happen to you I would have already done it myself?"

"W-well, yeah. But not wishing harm on someone is a far cry from taking the beating yourself... I just don't get why--

“Come here."

A's mouth dropped open.

B lifted one heavy arm toward them, beckoning with two fingers. A had to resist the urge to look around the empty room for some other person B could be talking to.

"Come here," B repeated, firmer.

Here? A was already standing right in front of them, so did they mean...?

They slowly lowered themself to the edge of the couch cushion. No sooner did they sit when B's strong arms pulled them against themself. A found their nose tucked into the warm crook of their crush's neck, so intimately close they could practically smell the pain wafting off them.

"Don't--" A protested, pulling away to spare B's obviously sore ribs, but B's hold only tightened.

"You were right about one thing," they said, throat vibrating against A's cheek. "I let you get away with far too much."

Within the span of a sentence, A's mouth had gone completely dry. So now, even with a dozen comments and questions fighting to be asked, they couldn't utter a single word. It was probably better that way since the top of A's queue was a flirty pick-up line bound to ruin the whole moment.

"I'll always protect you," B continued. "Always. You hear?"

A nodded numbly.

B let out a long, tired breath that made their whole chest--and in turn A--rise and fall. "I hate you seeing me weak."

Weak? Being hurt wasn't weak. Taking someone else's punishment and then comforting them wasn't weak. B had always been a mystery when it came to feelings. Their constant dry tone and bland expression always made it seem like they felt nothing at all. But maybe the truth was that they wore a mask when they felt the most. Now it was slipping. That, most of all, wasn't weak.

A wanted to let B know that they were the strongest, most beautiful, most amazing person they'd ever met and that nothing would ever make them think less of them. But as they wetted their tongue to speak, something else was already slipping off the tip.

"You know, B, I should go get that first-aid kit for that knee."

B scrunched their eyes. "What are you talking about? Villain didn't do anything to my--"

"You know, the one you scraped falling for me."

B's face immediately dropped into an unimpressed frown, but with the pressure of their arms still steady against their shoulder blades, A was beginning to think that might be a good sign and their laughter escaped as a loud squeak.

"You're so annoying," B said.

"You know what else might make you feel better?" A managed through their giggles.

B rolled their eyes, but their expression was resigned. "What?"

"A big dose of Vitamin Me."

This time B did crack a smile. They tried to hide it with another sigh and a duck of their head into A's shoulder, but it remained loud and clear in their voice.

"Don't make me push you off this couch."

"It's a good plan, but it won't work; I've already fallen for y--"

B clapped their hand over their mouth. "Shhh. My head feels like its going to split open. Let's just be quiet for a while, hm?"

A nodded against their palm. Their arms fumbled together as they shifted into a more comfortable embrace; gentle fingers curled into the back of A's shirt; B's heart thumped a little too quick in their ear.

They never knew silence could say so much.

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