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#Liz posting before 9pm? unheard of
callsign-rogueone · 1 month
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the spider - l.m.
Liam Mairi x reader When you find an uninvited guest in your room, you find yourself knocking on Liam's door to ask him for help. words: 861 🏷: no book spoilers at all, just fluff! mentions of spiders but nothing too detailed (mild arachnophobe here) and Liam handles it for you 🥰 reader is referred to as a girl once, but no pronouns used. this was originally going to be for someone else, but I realized I haven't fed the Liam lovers in a while, so here you go!
“I need you,” you blurt as soon as Liam opens his door.
He blinks, thoroughly confused. “What?”
You take a breath and try again. “There is a ginormous spider in my room and I need you to do something about it. Please.”
“And I was the first person you thought of?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. He has a point — you hardly know each other. 
“You’re my neighbor, so yeah, you were,” you answer, your cheeks warming. “Please, Liam?”
He doesn’t think you’ve called him by his first name, ever. To hear you whining it as you blink up at him, pleading… 
“Before it crawls into my bed or something,” you add urgently, shuddering at the thought. 
“Well, we can’t have that,” he says with a soft laugh. “Lead the way.”
He knows where your room is, knows you’re right across the hall, but he still trails a few paces behind as you make the incredibly short walk over.
You unlock the door and usher him inside, remaining out in the hallway.
He steps forward, taking it in; he’s caught glimpses over your shoulder, but never set foot inside.
It looks… lived in. There’s a pile of boots by the door, tonight’s homework and yesterday’s notes spread over the desk, and he could swear that’s a romance novel on your nightstand — you’re almost finished with it, judging by the location of the scrap of colorful parchment you’re using as a bookmark.
The bed is unmade, blankets pulled back as if you’d just gotten out of it. A small stuffed dragon sits on your pillow, a soft green thing that looks remarkably like Blythe.
And everything about this room smells like you, soft and sweet — he’s never figured out how you manage to do that, to smell so good when everyone in this entire school uses plain unscented soap.
His eyes finally catch on the intruder. It’s an ugly little fucker, but nothing to write home about, just a harmless garden variety.
“You know, it’s probably more afraid of you than you are of it,” he says with a glance over his shoulder.
“I highly doubt that,” you huff. “There is no reason why anything on Amari’s green earth should have that many legs. It’s damn creepy. Can you just smush it, please?”
“That’s a fair point. But it’s too big, if I smush it you’re gonna have spider juice on your wall.”
You wrinkle your nose. “Ew, okay, fine, um. There’s paper on the desk, and an empty cup.”
“See, you have the tools,” he begins, grabbing the aforementioned supplies, “you just need to take the leap and follow through with it.”
“No, thank you,” you reply from the corner of the room you’ve pressed yourself into, as far away from the thing as you can get. “I’ve faced enough of my fears this year already. This one is gonna have to wait.”
“Understandable,” he acknowledges, trapping it inside the cup and sliding the paper overtop it.
You give him plenty of space as he walks out the door, not leaving the corner until he returns a few minutes later. 
He holds up the paper silently, showing you the front and back, and flips the cup upside down, shaking it to prove that the spider is, in fact, gone.
“Where did you put it?” you ask, still paranoid.
“In the bushes, as far from your room as possible. Clear across the courtyard.”
“Thank you,” you say quietly.
He sets the paper and mug back on the desk where he found them, looking back at you. 
You pull him into a loose hug, wrapping him in that lovely scent — orange blossoms and vanilla, he decides. It’s intoxicating.
“Thank you,“ you say quietly. “For dealing with it, and for not thinking it’s dumb or making fun of me.”
He falters for a moment, but quickly brings a hand up to rest on your back. “I’d never make fun of you. And it’s no problem, really.”
You realize you’ve never so much as shaken his hand before. You pull away quickly, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, that was… forward of me,” you manage.
He laughs softly. “It’s okay. Come get me if any of its friends show up. I’ll give them a talking to.”
You can’t help but smile. “Thank you, Liam.”
There you go again, saying his name and making him feel things.
He offers you a soft smile that nearly brings you to your knees. “Goodnight, pretty girl.”
“Goodnight,” you breathe, shutting the door after he’s back in his own room.
“He thinks I’m pretty,” you whisper aloud, smiling.
“Of course he does,” Blythe says, amused.
You jump. “What have I told you about eavesdropping?” 
She sounds like she’s rolling her eyes. “And what have I told you about broadcasting your every thought to me?”
You sigh, conceding. “I’m still working on that. I’m sorry.”
“All in good time, soft one. All in good time.”
You kick off your boots, flopping down onto your bed with a sigh and picking up your book again, but you’ve lost interest. Knights in shining armor be damned; all you can think about right now is Liam.
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