little things, alessia russo x reader
summary: based on little things by one direction (big fan yup) where r is a bit insecure about certain things and alessia makes sure to let r know she loves everything about r.
a/n: just smth random i came up w while i’m writing on chicago p2 bc i’m currently stuck lol. wrote this in the middle of the night so don’t mind eventual mistakes… send in recs if you want to :)
wc: 2,3k ish
enjoyy
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you and alessia had been together for a long time now, with your 2 years anniversary coming up in only a few weeks. you loved doing things together, watching movies or series, going out for a walk or shopping. literally anything
football might be your biggest shared interest though, whether it was watching a game or playing it. but it was not hard to see who was playing professionally and who played in a normal sunday league.
alessia played football for a living, her days consisted of training on and off the pitch and of course football games against big, top teams, weekly. whereas you were working as a chef at a restaurant and only had training 2-3 times a week plus a game on the weekends.
despite the big difference of professionalism you played in, you both were each others biggest fan and supporter. you were at all arsenal’s home games and even some away games if possible, and alessia was at yours. of course if you or her didn’t have your own game at the same time, which occasionally happened.
alessia never looked down at you for not being a professional footballer, rather the other way around. she was happy and proud that you got to the two things you loved the most, cooking food during the days and playing football in the evenings. but even if alessia never had an opinion about this, didn’t mean you nor especially the fans highlighted this at times.
as you were the girlfriend of the top player and front face of the lionesses and arsenal, people didn’t shy away from sharing their ignorant opinions. when alessia saw a rude comment about you she would always delete it, before she read half of it and especially before you got the chance to even know about it. but since you were together with alessia, you had around 30k followers on instagram yourself and a lot of the ignorant comments ended up in your comment section as well.
you knew you shouldn’t care, but you couldn’t help but read every single negative comment about you. it was everything from you using alessia for her being famous and having a lot of money, to not being good enough for her and being an ugly and bad person. the comments about you only “using” her didn’t really bother you, as you and not to mention, alessia knew that it wasn’t true. but it was rather the comments about you being too ugly, or not that a good enough person for her that made you feel like the smallest person on earth.
this had been going on ever since you got together and the public eye found out about it. at first it didn’t bother you, but as time went on it started to get to you. the blonde and you had talked about it before, but even if you weren’t, you always made sure to say that you were fine.
as of lately alessia had started to notice that you were feeling a bit more tired and down than usually. at first she thought it was because of your job and how hectic it was. but she shortly after realised it was because of all comments on social media.
and with that she started to make more efforts than usually to make you feel as special and loved as you deserved, not to mention how she felt about you.
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as a person in general, you were a bit insecure about yourself. you didn’t like certain things with your body or the way you looked.
as time passed alessia started to figure out more of your small insecurities, how every time she tried to make a short video with you, you always stayed quiet because you didn’t like the way your voice sounded on camera.
how you never got changed in front of her, despite being together for a long, long time. because you didn’t like how your stomach or thighs looked. she obviously had seen you without clothes before, but it was different when you changed and got dressed. it made you feel more conscious about the way you looked, in a way you didn’t like and therefore didn’t want alessia to see.
but also how you recently had stopped coming along to nights out and dinners with her team, because you were insecure or what other people would think. despite alessia always telling you how much the team loved you and wanted you there.
alessia knew these things made you insecure, but these were also the things she loved about you the most. the way you looked, the way you were, the way you smiled and laughed. your voice, your body. everything.
at first she didn’t want these little things to slip out, in case it made you more insecure. but she quickly realised the best way to make you feel more comfortable and confident, was to bring your insecurities up, subtly and in a reassuring way, one by one.
every time you smiled you got small crinkles by your eyes and for some reason fans started to point that out, together with your freckled cheeks. alessia didn’t understand, as she thought those were two of the cutest things about you, but you hated them.
now when she started to see the comments more often, she realised that was the reason why you started to cover your freckles up with makeup, and at least try to smile less. not that it really worked when you were with alessia, who stumbled around and laughed all the time.
“babe, you’re so beautiful today.” alessia said as the two of you got ready to head out for a little walk in the park. “why are you putting on makeup? you’re just as beautiful without it.” she smiled softly.
“i dunno.” you mumbled. “don’t really like my freckles.” you said lowly. with that alessia walked up behind you, where you sat by the desk in your shared bedroom, and hugged you tightly from behind.
“you.” kiss. “are.” kiss. “more.” kiss. “beautiful”. kiss. “than.” kiss. “anyone.” kiss. “else. ” kiss. “in.” kiss. “the.” kiss. “world.” the blonde said as she kissed you freckles.
“stoppp less, you’re ruining my makeup.” you said, but couldn’t help but feeling a smile creeping up in the corner of your mouth.
“nooo!!” she said. “i’m just making sure your natural beauty is showing.” she continued as she bombed kisses on you again. you couldn’t help but laugh at that. “there’s the beautiful smile of yours.” alessia said simply.
it took you another 20 minutes to get ready before your headed out. instantly when you stepped out of the port of your stairwell, alessia grabbed you hand and gave it a tight squeeze.
“you know, your hands fits perfectly in mine.” the striker said softly.
“what do you mean less?” you asked confused, not quite catching what she meant.
“i don’t know, i just know it feels perfect to hold it in my hand.” she smiled with a chuckle. you nodded slowly, still not getting where she came from. but it was something with the way she had said it while squeezing your hand, that made you feel good. you felt yourself being thrown out of your thoughtss as alessia pulled you with her and started to walk towards the park, while babbling about her upcoming game against liverpool this weekend.
when you stopped in the middle of the park by a big tree alessia suggested that the two of you should make a tiktok together. a video where you’d have to rank her arsenal teammates.
“no i can’t do that.” you said with a laugh. “they’re gonna kill me.”
“noo, babe!! it’ll be fun, they will love it.” she laughed as she pulled up her phone.
“okay, just because i love you. but don’t post it!! i don’t uh, want people to hear my- to see what my ranking.” you said quietly.
“oh y/n, it’ll be fine. everyone will laugh at how pissed leah will be when she sees she’s not your number one.” alessia chuckled. “besides, everyone should get to hear that beautiful voice of yours when you explain your rankings.” she continued, subtly mentioning yet another insecurity. you instantly felt yourself relaxing a little when she said that. to be honest you hadn’t really realised that you had tensed up in the first place.
“let’s do this then, less.” you said as you grabbed her phone and started the ranking.
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“i can’t believe you were about to put frida at number one.” alessia said with a grunt as you finished.
“well she is just the best, isn’t she?” you asked with a smile.
“well… no. i am supposed to be there, i swear if you weren’t with me right now, you would’ve put her as your number 1.” alessia answered with a unhappy voice.
“nooo babe, i’d never do that!!” you laughed. “you are obviously my number one!”
“and so are you y/n/n! you are my forever number one and i love you and everything about you.” the blonde said softly as she gave hugged you and kissed your cheek. “let’s post this and see how the girls reacts.” she continues as she posted the video.
just then she got a message from leah in the arsenal group chat, asking who’d be joining for dinner aka ordering food, and movie night at her place tomorrow night. a flood of “yes” and “me” came right away when alessia looked at you.
“you want to go?” she asked hopefully.
“uh i don’t know, don’t want to intrude your team bonding night.” you said lowly.
“no y/n babe, first you could never do that. the girls have been asking if you won’t being joining anytime soon anyways. and besides, it’s just movie night tmrw.” alessia explained as she took your hand and gave it a squeeze.
“well, okay then i guess.” you said.
“YESSSS!!!” the england forward squealed as she sent a quick “me and y/n are coming!” to the group chat and right away an even bigger flood of “yes!”, “wohoo” and “finally” came.
as tomorrow evening eventually came around, you and the blonde got ready together. since it was just movie night and leah’s, you wouldn’t dress up fancy. so you grabbed a pair of black jeans and a t-shirt as you headed towards your bathroom to get changed. but before you managed to take a step alessia grabbed your arm and hugged you tightly.
“you know i don’t mind you changing clothes in front of me.” she said softly as she hugged you tighter.
“i know, it’s just uh me. i don’t know, it’s stupid. of course i should be able to change in front of my girlfriend of almost two years.” you said while you let go of alessia to look into her eyes.
“baby, it’s not stupid the way you feel. i just want you to know that i love you and i love every single thing about you. i love your eyes, your smile, how you look and oh my god, have you seen your body?” she said softly and you can’t help but smile a little. “if you don’t feel comfortable to change in front of me, i won’t stop you. but i want you to feel comfortable with me, no matter what. i don’t care what other people say or think and you shouldn’t either. because you are more perfect than anyone else. okay?” alessia continued.
all you could do was just stare at your girlfriends. you realised where she was coming from with all of this, but to be honest, it made you feel better. she was right, the only opinion you really cared about was hers, and you knew how much she loved you.
“i know, i just feel so self conscious and insecure sometimes. i wish i didn’t but i can’t help but being affected by it.” you answered.
“you know love, those things you are self conscious about, are some of the things i love the most you.” she said as she once again gave you one of her famous “lessi bear hugs”.
“yeah i know less, thank you so much.” you said hugging her back. after some time you finally let go of each other and you felt truly safe and loved by the striker. you took a deep breath and actually felt comfortable enough to change in front of your girlfriend.
all alessia could do was looking at you with the proudest smile ever. she was happy that her little side mission had worked out the way she wanted to, that you felt better about yourself and also felt more comfortable around her.
what took her by surprise though was that you for the first time in a long, long time didn’t cover up your freckles with makeup. all you did was curling your eyelashes and put on some mascara. alessia once again looked at you with the biggest and proudest smile as well as heart eyes. oh, that girl was head over heels for you.
“you’re so beautiful, my girl.” alessia said with a grin.
when you 20 minutes later arrived at leah’s house and went to knock on the door, it was instantly opened by a not super happy looking leah.
“how dare you not put as number 1 and not even number 2, but 3 on your list, miss?” she said while giving you a stern look, but you could hear the teasing in her voice.
“told you…” alessia whispered in your ear lowly, with a laugh. “i’ll leave the two of you to figure this out.” she continued and walked into great the rest of the team.
“well hello to you too leah…” you laughed. “i guess i just don’t love you as much as less.”
“okay that’s fair BUT YOU PUT FRIDA OVER ME??” leah shouted.
“well, if it makes you feel any better, i almost put frida above lessi. but then i wouldn’t have had a place to sleep in.” you laughed.
after some back and forth you finally settled on a fair ranking where, spoilers, leah ended up as your number 1. then leah finally let you into her house and let you in with a happy smile over a face so you could greet the other arsenal players there.
the night was amazing, just what you needed. you felt safe around alessia and her teammates and you didn’t feel like you were in the way and disturbing them. they made you laugh all the time, and now the crinkles by your eyes didn’t bother you anymore.
even if alessia’s mission was accomplished, she didn’t stop reminding you how much she loved you. everything about you. that the little things you were subconscious about, made you to the amazing person that you were and the person alessia loved so much.
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Alone. Truly Alone. Chapter Three.
Johnny didn't want someone who asked questions - to him, anyways. That didn't mean you wouldn't try to get your own answers
💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀
Johnny (he insisted you call him that after you very reluctantly agreed to his deal, stating that "John" was too formal) didn’t need someone who asked questions. Asking questions meant thinking and thinking meant trouble. He didn’t need someone asking anything about the man framed in the only picture he had, nor did he need to be questioned on why there was an uncanny frakensteined monster that bore that very person's resemblance living in an abandoned military facility.
Of course, you’d still think of those questions. Anyone with a single braincell and any scrap of common sense would. You’d think about them until your brain melted and oozed out your ears as they ceaselessly tore at your mind, lingering on the edges of every other thought you had.
Asking him at this point though wouldn't get you anywhere, aside from maybe in a hospital bed. Pushing the already probably mentally unstable man further when he clearly had a whole storm brewing behind those distant blue eyes was a flat out stupid idea. When someone carried such a beastly burden day in and out, adding even a feather to the weight they carried could cause them to snap. If you wanted answers, you’d have to play it smart and ride the sands of time until the tempest faded into a mild breeze, taking the pressure that ceaselessly weighed him down with it.
Besides, you didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth and do anything to cost you your newfound side job that rolled into your lap when you needed it most. You needed it and the money almost as much as Johnny needed you.
Aside from a wonderful therapist, what Johnny needed was someone to run some errands for him. The way he phrased it could’ve made it seem almost normal. Almost. He just needed you to sometimes pick things up and drop things off for him - things he said he didn't have time to do.
Before you could even begin to regret agreeing or start gathering the courage to start verbalizing anything, another $100 was shoved in your awaiting hands the second he summoned you to his house once more not even two days later, effectively tying your tongue in a knot and forcing you to swallow anything that threatened to rise up back into the pit of your stomach where it belonged.
"You're certainly a wonderful sight for sore eyes" Johnny said as he held the door open for you, the lopsided grin that stretched slightly too far for comfort donning his face.
Underneath your fingertips, the crinkle of the crisp bill he'd shoved in your hands offered an ounce of comfort and familiarity as you stepped into the haphazard blend of the contrasting house. Once again, the overpowering stench of bleach reached your nose, causing it to wrinkle as your eyes watered. The soapy, pungent basic scent of unnaturally clean stood as far too much, like he had just scrubbed every single nearby surface with it twice.
Holding your breath just enough to make it through the hallway without burning your lungs, the shaky exhale that escaped you when you reached the kitchen was anything but certain, unlike the man who lead the way with a spring in his step.
"How 'bout a cuppa?" He offered as he gestured for you to sit in one of the uncomfortable, cheap, ugly modern chairs that lined the matching too sleek table.
Though the thought of something to drink was a nice gesture and tempted your slightly parched throat, it wasn't one you could accept. Drinking something from his house, even if he made it in front of you, had you on hesitate as uncertainty made itself known in the way your stomach twisted. Sure, it might give you something to sip on and take away from your nerves - but you didn't know what he'd consider normal or what he could put in it.
"Thanks, but no thank you. I'm good." You declined, your brows knitting together the smallest bit as your hands locked together, a closed-lipped smile donned your features as a polite peace offering.
Johnny simply tipped his head and shrugged in a 'suit yourself' gesture as he turned his back to you and took ahold of the kettle. "Maybe one day you'll come 'round to it. The Brits are wrong on many things but tea isn't one of them." He noted while he filled the blue metal device to the brim before setting it unceremoniously on the stove.
Humming in a truly neutral agreement that could be taken either way, you chose not to say anything in addition. A steady, rhythmic clicking broke through the silence before the gentle whoosh of the flames igniting quieted the air once more.
Johnny busied himself around the countertop and the island, whistling an off-tune song you couldn't quite recognize. While you weren't sure what song it was, there was no denying that his tone was off. Whether that was on purpose or not, you had no idea, but it made your skin crawl. A grimace crossed your features when the continual bad intonation didn't get any better. Why couldn't he have at least picked something to be on pitch with?
Thankfully the half-cringe that passed upon your face went unnoticed as he began searching through the orange toned cabinets and drawers at his own leisurely pace.
Naturally, your eyes were drawn to the man as he worked in his element. Your own natural curiosity tugged on the little part of your brain that egged you on to watch and try to figure out what he was doing. The weight of the world might have rested on his shoulders, judging by the slight tension he always held in his muscles and the lines carved deep into his face after many sleepless nights, but he didn't show it elsewhere.
He moved about as if the burden he carried were nothing more than a backpack, an annoyance that could eventually be shed. If you were able to look at his face closer, you're sure the shadows of dark bags would line underneath his eyes, darkening his features as if trying to externally express the gloom he felt.
To see that meant you'd have to look him in the eyes, though. You're not sure you were ready to meet the intensity of his head-on gaze again, or have to explain why you were staring. Blinking out of your stupor, you snapped your gaze to the tiled floor, trying to find something else to draw your attention.
The too stark, too barren kitchen loomed around you at all angles and provided no relief or point of interest. Looking anywhere else did little to help your nerves and thoughts alike when the clashing gaudiness of the wallpaper and the modern furniture greeted you no matter where you turned your eyes.
No matter what, you most certainly didn't want to look at the one picture on the wall - the one that reminded you of the thing you'd seen.
Though the man in the picture wasn't nearly as monstrous and had all the correct, human proportions (in the right number too, mind you), taking a single glance made your stomach churn. Sheer, primal dread and horror weren't an easy feeling to shake, especially when you caught glimpses of it every time you so much as turned your head to the side.
When he finally started talking again, a silent breath of relief escaped you as you relaxed marginally, thanking all heavens above he gave focus on other than the solitary portrait that hung on the empty wall.
"You don't know how... how happy I am."
Metallic clattering rang out as he shut yet another drawer before the one beside it was squeaked open from the rattling force. Though he spoke aloud, you weren't sure if he was more talking to himself or to you.
You didn't dare to breathe a word when he seemed to have paused for a moment, muttering something under his breath before he shut that drawer too and opened a cabinet below. "... to finally have someone to help me." He added as an afterthought as he popped back up, a small, rusted metal box in his hand.
Clunking against the counter as he gingerly placed it down, the rusty hinges squeaked in protest as he popped the lid, inspecting the mysterious contents with scrutinizing, unblinking eyes before he nodded to himself, clamping the lid shut once more before you had a chance to see what was in it.
"Things have been..." He trailed off with a small, dismissive circle of his hand as he turned his back to you again, upper cabinets flying open as he dug through the few items precariously perched in there once more.
He didn't continue his sentence, shaking his head to himself, the words he refused to speak evaporating into thin air. The grip you had on your own hands tightened as you bit your tongue - you weren't going to pry. No questions, you reminded yourself, as your mind filled in the blanks with many words that it raced to think of to finish his sentence for him.
Difficult? Terrible? Agonizing? Stressful? You're sure you could place them all on a Bingo card and score instantly.
No matter how much you wanted to ask, wanted to figure out what was going on, you weren't going to ask. You couldn't. The fragile balance that hung in the silence of the air depended on it.
Johnny seemed to like talking to himself anyhow, even if it was filled with beats and pauses and half finished sentences to match. It's like he either expected interjection or didn't know how to talk after having spent so much time alone.
"Ever since the exp- accident," He corrected himself in such a rush you didn't catch what he almost said, "Haven't been able to do nearly all of what I wanted."
Johnny didn't give you a chance to think about it as he huffed, his shoulders sagging, “Cannot drive anymore.” He spoke in a rougher grit, nodding to his missing left arm.
Frustration wrote itself all over his face in the unmistakable narrowing of his eyes and the tension held in his shoulders increasing tenfold as a scowl crossed his features. But like everything else with him, it hardly lasted a few noticeable seconds before the grin that was all too theatric made its appearance once more. “Unless you want to see the gas station version of Fast and Furious: Tokyo Drift, I wouldn't let me get behind a wheel.”
His warm, mirth filled chuckle and toothy smile could almost be mistaken as genuine if he weren't staring right through you with a certainty that made your hackles raise. "That's where you come in. Real life saver, you are." He noted as he finally found what he was searching for, depositing it in a drawstring bag alongside the metal container.
Just in time, the kettle whistled a shrill pitchy noise. Steam billowed out of the small opening. Like a dog drawn to the beck and call of its owner, he trotted right on over to it, pouring it into a metal thermos he already had set aside in his impromptu kitchen rearranging spree.
Screwing the top on, he settled it in the bag before drawing it tight. Fabric cinched underneath the motion and, testing it to be sure nothing would spill, he finally picked it up and promptly deposited it on your lap.
"Well, best be off with it then." He said as he clapped a hand on your shoulders, guiding you to your feet. You swallowed, already knowing where he was going to ask you to go. "If you're fast enough, the water will still be warm when you get back if you change your mind on having a proper cuppa."
Going there in the evening light proved to be significantly less unnerving than visiting in the pitch blackness of the night. Considering you at least could see a hair better and knew what to expect as far as the layout go, it eased your nerves but the constant unsettled feeling remained on your shoulders as an unseen weight all the same.
On one hand, you now knew what was lurking in the dark. On the other hand, you now knew what was lurking. With six arms, three heads, and enough eyes to see into the past, present, and future at the same time, jumping to meet it again wasn't on the top of your to-do list.
Unlike the first time, though, it was a quick in and out. That was the mantra you repeated to yourself as you exited your car, crawling back in the small opening in the rusted, chain link fence. In and out. You'd be done before you knew it.
The steady thump of your heart against your ribs echoed far louder than any noise in the run-down facility as you trekked through the halls with careful steps. Every so often, you'd freeze and listen, looking for any clues of the thing - the very thing you were here to deliver a bag to.
You don't know why exactly Johnny wanted you to do this so bad or what he included in the very item you carried close to your chest. If he was trying to feed you to the monster, he was doing a piss poor job at it. And if it were something elicit, then why on earth would it involve a thermos of hot water?
Those questions were shoved to the back of your mind as you heard a small clink down one of the halls - a noise that sounded like metal on metal.
Goosebumps prickled your arms as your body froze. Placing the bag down next to the wall on a drop spot you, for once, listened to your heart and bolted.
You didn't wait around to see if the thing was lurking around the corners, watching your every move. You didn't want to see if it felt friendly today. In and out. You're just here to do your job - not here to be eaten.
True to his word, the water was still warm by the time you returned to collect your payment. Not that you were going to have any of the tea he offered, but it meant the job was done and you now had enough money to soothe your erratically beating heart as you justified your (probable) bad decisions.
Johnny was all smiles as he thanked you earnestly, ignorant to your internal plight. His earnest words that paired with his glee of, "Have an evening as lovely as yourself," lingered on in the air, going unanswered as you took your money and hurried off back to your dwelling.
Not wanting to deal with any more questions or thoughts regarding it or anything around it for the night, the TV went on the moment you got home. White noise filled the space as its distant chatter reverberated, the familiar flashing lights of the flickering screen soothing you as it wrapped around your senses like a warm blanket on a cold day.
Scarfing down your dinner, you settled on the couch for the night, letting the noise of the television lull you to sleep instead of your own mind.
Sleep held you as long as it could in its embrace as you dozed away, but it could only do so much to keep you down when an all too loud text pinged on your phone. Cursing yourself for not having put it on Do Not Disturb, you blearily blinked at the illuminated screen.
Blocky letters shone 5:15 am on the lock screen, yet another groan escaping you. It's too early for this. Setting it down for another moment as you squinted, you rubbed your eyes with the heel of your palm as you slowly came to your senses.
Focusing on the name would be fruitless when you already mentally calculated who would have the audacity and the lack of common sense to text you this early.
"Morning bonnie :), up for another task?"
No wonder he seemed so exhausted all the time, you mentally groused as you reluctantly went through your morning routine at none too fast of a pace. Anyone who woke up at the ass crack of dawn had the right to be. There's plenty of other things weighing him down but right now, all you could think of was how it was too damn early for this.
Even though it was too early, far too early for your taste to be doing anything, Johnny was all smiles as you pulled up, as if he'd already been up for hours and was almost happy about it.
This time, he wasn't fumbling through anything or assembling things together. Sitting on the old, creaky rocking chair on the porch, he already had a bag beside him. The worn canvas rucksack was considerably larger than the drawstring he'd had you take the day prior.
"Good morning." He greeted from the small landing as you sauntered out of your car, the usually present smile that put the pink lights of dawn to shame held itself upon his fine features once more. "Know I already said morning, but wasn't good til I saw you."
The warm, blush colors of the sunrise matched your cheeks perfectly as the familiar heat of a flush rose upon you in a matching warmth of the early morning's rays. It's too early for this....
Handing the bag off to you, his eyes followed your every movement once more as you took it from him into your grasp. "Same place as last time." He instructed without another word more.
The thermos settled on the side of the bag radiated warmth as it settled against your skin as you balanced the luggage out in your arms. How you wished you could feel the same warmth all over as you lay buried in your bed, dozing underneath your fluffy blankets as you should've been at this time.
Nodding, you offered a strained smile, ignoring how his fingers drummed in rapid succession on the armrest of the chair. "Got it." Was all you said before you turned on your heels before you could second guess what you were doing.
The third time through the building proved to somehow be even easier. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation or irritation that ebbed away the nerves that normally had you hesitating, but you carried on through the same path you'd trekked twice prior.
Exactly as Soap instructed, you went to set the bag down right where you had prior. Except when you got there, you froze.
There on the ground lay the same thermos you saw him fill and the deflated, compacted form of the drawstring bag. Folded with precision, the bag lay pinned by the thermos, as if it had been placed with delicate intent in mind.
Swallowing back the sudden dryness of your mouth, the small steps you took towards it now took longer than ever before. As if it may burn you, your hands shook as you held your breath when you reached out to grasp them. The light weight of the metal bottle shouldn't have caught you off guard, but it did. Whatever did this - no, whoever, clearly had great control of themselves.
It couldn't have been that thing, right? That was a monster, a beast. Maybe it was someone else - someone else here who he was helping.
You didn't want to think about it too hard or the implications of it. Taking a deep breath, you choked down your nerves and snatched up the bag and empty bottle before depositing the rucksack.
Looking back wasn't even a thought that crossed your mind as you hightailed it out of there, your mind racing faster than your feet.
By the time you returned to Johnny's house and rang the bell, he'd already taken a shower. The fresh scent of his cologne clung to his skin as he opened the door, the overgrown shag of his mohawk curled on the very fringes with dampness.
"Back so soon?" He asked, arching an inquisitive brow, his attention focused on the lines of your face the second you appeared.
Though you tried to hide the small tremors and the paleness of your features as your mind and heart raced despite the contrast of your feet rooted in place.
"Christ alive, everything alright? You look like you've seen a ghost." He asked as he tilted his head.
Alright? Alright?? How could it be alright when now for sure you knew that something, something possibly intelligent, was there. The thing you've brought something too held life, conscious thought, and yet weathered away every day in that building.
Seeing the bag folded so neatly opened a pandora's box of questions that you don't think you could ignore for any longer, but you weren't going to spill that to him.
Hurrying out a nod, you forced a smile and cleared your throat, trying to get yourself to appear normal. "Y-yeah! Fine, I'm fine. Just uh... a bit tired! Not used to being up this early." You said, trying your damndest to play it off with an awkward chuckle.
Pleasebelieveitpleasebelieveitplease-
His eyes studied you, a frown pursing his lips as he once again searched right though your soul with those intense, blue eyes. For those few, tense moments, you swore he dug right into your mind, trying to find reasons to call you a liar as he sunk his claws in and tore.
Yet his gaze softened as he scratched the back of his neck, the smile turning sheepish. "Sorry - forgot not everyone is used to waking up before the sun. Old habits die hard." As if trying to make up for his 'mistake', he didn't wait a second as he fished out the $200 from his pocket - no envelope this time.
The bills made their way into your pocket as you snatched them up. "Thanks." You rushed out as you took a step back. Johnny arched a single brow as he just kept staring, as if expecting something.
You couldn't bring yourself to meet his acute gaze as he simply kept staring the same, scrutinizing look pinning you down from afar. Averting your eyes, your offered a half-there nod as you took another step back, "Anyways I uh, have a long day ahead."
Your mind wasn't really in putting together neat sentences as it kept circling back to seeing the bag and thermos set so nicely, so purposefully, as if awaiting someone to return to them.
Shit, right. The things. Shaking your head, you stiffened at your realization. "O-oh! Right, almost forgot." Pulling your own utilitarian bag off of your back, the sound of a zipper broke the hush of the early morning air. Revealing the still-folded bag and his bottle, you held it out for him to take.
Surprised wasn't the exact word you'd say described Johnny. Though his brows arched and his grin faltered for a split second into something much bigger, he held his position. The slight shake in his fingers as he plucked the items from your hands was palpable as was the breath he held as he turned them over, the pads of his fingers tracing them as his attention dragged downwards into the paltry weight of the objects themselves.
For a few reverent moments, his whole attention focused right on those items his gaze piercing through it. While you were thankful that attention was no longer on you, it didn't help the unease that always seemed to follow, remaining slung around your shoulders like an old, uncomfortable pal who made their appearance at the worst times. When you shifted from foot to foot, his eyes snapped right back up as he blinked out of his entranced daze.
"Right, I won't hold you any longer. Thank you again." He said, as he steadied himself with a deep breath, "I'll see you tomorrow."
You didn't have a chance to protest before he closed the door, leaving you standing right there on the now empty front porch.
Turns out, Johnny preferably needed you to go every day of the week to that place. You weren't sure how to feel after discovering the fact that the thing was probably intelligent and was indeed capable of such delicate tasks - but the money talked far louder than your hesitancy. It's a wonder he didn't run out of cash but hey, you weren't complaining. Sure, it wasn't ideal to go there and to keep questioning your sanity, but money talked. And what it was saying was "Keep doing what you're doing".
Though unease lingered in every one of your hairs that stood on end and the goosebumps that prickled your flesh every time you visited, it became significantly easier as you fell into a routine. Nothing would stop the way you always found yourself glancing down the dark hallways with wary shifts to the balls of your feet, ready to bolt at a moments notice, but you no longer had to look over your shoulder or halt in your movements every time you heard a small noise.
Johnny would either have you come by early morning or late evening, and would hand off a bag. Sometimes you'd talk to him a bit or more accurately, he'd talk and you'd listen as he packed the bag. You'd then take it, go right back into the abandoned fort, and trade it out with the bag always placed with such neat intent and now-empty thermos.
Now, anyone sane would've suspected something extremely suspicious, if not illegal. After all, who would pay vast amounts of money to drop off a full bag and pick the empty up if it weren't dealing with illegal substances?
Johnny. That's who.
Much to your surprise, everything was normal in every bag you brought - it always was. He'd pack them in front of you or if they were ready to go, they held the same, ordinary objects. Not to mention, you'd always double checked them just to be sure you weren't playing an unwitting part in some smuggling operation. You didn't always make the best decisions but you weren't stupid. Yet they were never abnormal.
No matter what, there'd always be a thermos of hot water and a sealed, labelless letter. Otherwise, it was a mixed bag, quite literally. Sometimes he'd thrown in a fleece or woolen blanket, other times some personal hygiene items, or board games or decks of cards, or even photographs and books. It didn't take long for you to realize that they were care packages meant for what- no, whoever was in there.
You weren't dealing with an it or a what or a that or a thing, it was a who. Someone who he clearly cared about and someone who you sincerely suspected was the man in the portrait or had been at some point in time.
The more days that you found yourself delivering yet another package, the more curious you found yourself - and the less fearful. After all, this was clearly a being who clung to some part of their humanity - someone capable of considerate actions and thoughts alike.
Frankly, it he never went after you in the first place. You'd realized that as you spent yet another night pondering in your bed, staring up at the ceiling. By all means, he could have attacked and killed you. He could have done that the moment it saw you for the first time and taken you by surprise in the Tartarean void that he called his home amidst the decaying walls.
He could've chased after you and snapped your neck before you had a chance to run for it. Hell, he could easily ambush you as you dropped off the daily supplies. And he could probably do it all without flinching or missing a single beat, as if he were completing a task as simple as fetching the morning paper.
But he didn't. He never even came closer. You hadn't seen him since the first night. Instead, the only trace you ever saw that he was by was the neatly placed bags and the empty thermos, always properly set up.
No monster would do that. No true monster would have those manners or such a capability, unless it was playing the long haul to gain your trust before it feasted. But that would've been long, long ago.
You didn't know what to make of it. And you knew Johnny would be no help, as many thoughts as he had. Not once had he ever brought the beast up - nor did you. Talk around him was something you both danced around, never quite getting to it.
That didn't stop you from doing your job as kept on delivering all the same. You knew better than to ask who this being was to him beyond someone he'd very likely known - and known well. He wouldn't be ready to admit that. No matter how many times you caught him staring at the sole portrait that hung on the kitchen wall or smoothing his thumb over the silver cross that dangled around his neck, he never dare breathed a name.
Asking Johnny wouldn't help, so you figured you might as well bypass the middle man. Living in the dark was something you couldn't do anymore - and you're sure he (the temporarily nameless being that he was) would like to finally have some light shone on him for once. It was time to talk to the creature you'd tried to desperately avoid in the first place.
Finding him was out of the question. You most certainly weren't going to walk through the dingy, damp halls once more to throw yourself at him. You doubted he would want that either. Considering he hadn't been around, he likely valued some semblance of privacy.
He could read - you figured he could read. After all, Johnny had sent him many letters. If they remained unopened, you didn't know, but it didn't stop Johnny from writing them all the same. Before you could get ahead of yourself, though, you decided to try a simple trick.
Clinging to a whiteboard with one hand, bag in the other, you crawled through the dark halls you'd come to know like the back of your hand. You didn't need the headlamp anymore but it certainly helped when your eyes hadn't adjusted.
Setting the bag down in the usual drop-zone, you balanced the whiteboard on your thighs and uncapped an expo marker. The squeak of the black pen filled the air as you inhaled a slow breath, trying to calm the anxious, anticipatory beating of your heart.
"Hi! :) I'm -" You hesitated. Writing your name was a bad idea, especially when it was a place you weren't supposed to be. The last thing you needed was for anyone else to find it and track you down, as unlikely as that may be.
Settling on "A friend of your friend." You continued to write, " The one who has been bringing the bags. What's your name?"
Setting the board down and capping the marker once more, placing it just below, you took a step back. You didn't know for sure if he could write or read, but it was worth a shot and was better than nothing. The question wasn't revolutionary but if answered, you'd finally have an inkling of who you were dealing with and more importantly, a proper name to call him.
As you headed back to the exit once more, you glanced back for the first time. For some reason feeling a pang of disappointment you saw nothing lying in wait in the shadows and heard nothing to match. Shaking your head, you dismissed the ridiculous thought as you scampered off, taking the empty bag and thermos that had been left to hold up your usual part of the routine.
You'd never been particularly excited to go back, really just following through for the money (and maybe a scrap of pity for Johnny), but today your legs couldn't carry you fast enough through the halls as you came back. Pitter pattering in your chest, your heart hammered away on your ribs as the familiar burn of exertion tugged at your muscles but you refused to let it slow you down. If anything, it only fueled the burning desire to get there fast.
The moment the whiteboard entered your line of sight, you somehow picked up speed further before leaning into a sliding stop in front of it. A thump echoed as the bag fell from your hands, your breath catching as you stared at the sight that awaited you. Your eyes widened at the smudged ink and the one, half-shaky word scrawled underneath. A name.
Simon.
Rolling the name over and over in your mind until you surely wouldn't be able to ever forget it, you snapped a picture of the whiteboard so you'd have a piece of it forever. To finally know the name of the being you had delivered countless things to marked a huge step forwards. There were many, many things you wanted to ask but for now you knew one, very important thing.
His name was Simon.
You itched to write more, to ask him fifty million questions now that you knew he was human enough to answer, but you couldn't get ahead of yourself. Your hands trembled as you uncapped the marker, tracing each letter of his name with your finger as you erased it, the feel of the letters forever etching into your soul.
"Its nice to meet you Simon." You kept it simple to start as you pursed your lips, racking your brain for the proper route to go here.
How long had he been here? Did he know what day it was? Who was he to Johnny? Why was he here? How did he get like that? What does he eat? How does he eat? Why doesn't he -
No.
You weren't going to do that. No matter how much there was to learn, you couldn't force your thirst for knowledge onto him or overwhelm him with questions. Trust for those answers had to be earned, not given, if he was anything like most.
Considering that he likely hadn't had direct human contact and interaction in how long, being compassionate would do you well. Maybe you could earn his trust more by helping him out further and listening, even if you had yet to physically say a single word to one another.
"I'm sorry for running from you. I didn't expect anyone to be there." You continued, figuring an apology of any kind was overdue but a late one was better than none, "Is there anything I can get or bring for you to make you more comfortable?"
The apology wasn't the best or hell, even that great. Limited space on the small whiteboard, however, was quite a curse. And if he had any bit of humanity - the kind you had, he'd understand very well why you ran. Anyone would in your shoes. It wasn't anything personal but now knowing he had conscious thoughts, guilt gnawed at you.
Likely, you still would've run anyways, but when facing with the unknown and something as threatening appearing as him, it's better safe than sorry. He'd understand, right? You were just a human in the end. A human who had very human reactions in the face of danger.
Once more, you set the marker down and read over your words, double checking to make sure your spelling still held up and the words were big enough to discern. They weren't perfect, eloquent, or fantastic but they were a starting point and they were yours. That was good enough for now. Resisting the urge to linger in the hall, you capped the pen and made your way out of the building once more, following the same path you'd always taken, already yearning to turn back.
Thankfully, the night passed in the blink of an eye and lady luck decided to roll the ball in your court the next day as Johnny picked an early time. Your heart raced at the same rate as your body as you sprinted through the halls, all caution thrown to the wind that whipped over your head with the motions. Reminding yourself to at least set the bag down instead of throwing it, you glanced at the board, your eyes widening.
Scrawled in a much neater, larger handwriting that took up the board, your breath halted in your chest. The beating of your heart faded into a background hum as your blood ran cold, a pit growing and sinking in your stomach so fast its as if you swallowed lead.
There wasn't an item or thing requested. Underneath, just like the day before, there was a name. But it was a different one, one you had at the top of your contact lists.
Johnny.
જ⁀➴
His many clouded eyes had stared at the simple, innocent question written on the white board. They stared and stared, until even in his constantly unfeeling state, they ached with soreness around the edges.
Anything.
Such a word was the most dangerous thing you could've offered to a desperate man who had long since drowned in the rivers of despair. To you, it was probably nothing more than a simple considerate thought. To him, it was a lifeline being thrown out in a tsunami, offering a thin rope to pull him out of the impossibly huge wave that kept him down. Attempting to grab it and crawl out may be fruitless but without any options left, the slimmest chance of improbable survival was always better than none at all.
So he took the rope you threw him and clung until his nails dug in and all six of his hands were burned and his skin chaffed. He held it close, grappling it with every ounce of strength he had left, tying it in knots to cling on further to the chance that was being offered - to have the anything, the only thing, he needed more than the second chance at life he had been granted.
He knew deep down that it might be an impossible request to pull him out, to get him what he needed beyond anything else in this world, to fulfill the visceral yearning that scorched his soul and burnt him with red hot pokers every day in an otherwise numb existence.
But when he had nothing left, nothing at all aside from his miserable existence in this liminal purgatory, playing the only Hail Mary he clung onto now that he was given a chance was his own way of accepting the line which you threw him and pulling back as he desperately tried to grapple out.
After all, a dead man had nothing to lose and everything to gain.
His everything that now stood just on the horizon, so close he could almost see those beautiful blue eyes again and trace over the silver of a scar that split his brows once more.
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