#hopeless romatic darlin

[gremlin-writes-angst]

Bouquet

1079 words

Fandom: Redacted Asmr

Couple: Huxley/Darlin

TW/CW: Implied past toxic relationships ( with a very brief mention of Quinn) Small misunderstanding (It's not a cheat misunderstanding) Requited unrequited love.

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He was always pretty, but right now, with a bouquet of flowers that almost covers his perfect smile, he's radiant. 

“Um, are you gonna- let me in I mean you don't have to but- uh you kind of- just standing and staring at me.”

You shake your head, Huxley laughs, could he be any cuter? 

“You really are a dog!”

“Oh shut up.”

You step aside, to let him into your apartment. Your eyes linger as he passes by, he's wearing a wrestling tee, he loves shirts that show off his muscles, and so do you. He’s a big guy, tall and strong, but he's so soft. 

You close the door, leaning against it.

It still surprises you.

Surprises you that he doesn't use his strength against you. In the beginning, you waited for him to stop pretending to be this soft loving man but every day he proved you wrong. You've got tired of flinching when he moves too quickly, tired of questioning what his true intentions are, tired of waiting for the moment he overpowers you, tired of not letting him in.

You watch as he calmly looks through your cabinets for a vase. A smile creeps up your face as you realize your anxiety is gone. Not completely but you don't have the urge to stop him, afraid that knowing your kitchen cabinets will be too much, that it would bring him closer. You laugh at how stupid it sounds now.

“ What- did- did I do something wrong- oh you don't like people searching your place- sorry dude- I was um looking for a vase. What?!- Don't laugh harder, what's so funny?”

You push off the door as you walk toward him.

“It's nothing, ignore it.”

His face scrunches into a pout, god you want to kiss him. 

“I don't have a vase. So what and who are the flowers for? Did you finally get a date?” Your question hurts you. The two of you have something, you think. There's been flirting and hand holding, you feel like a teen, blushing over the memories of holding his hand. Though that's all, Huxleys is just- friendly, it's nothing, he was comforting you. Or that's what you thought but the way his face fell when you teased him, maybe you were wrong, maybe you ruined it.

“I- there for you.”

He holds out the bouquet to you, but his head is bowed down in shame, but you can see his face darken with blush. 

“ What?”

You laugh out loud. That only makes it worse, he pulls them back. Turns his head away.

“Sorry- I must- I guess I miss understood, Um I'll -I'll just leave- with the flowers.”

He turns the rest of his body walking away.

“Huxs- wait- I- I'm sorry.”

“You don't need to be, you shouldn't be sorry for not - sharing my feelings. I know others make you feel- like you were wrong for that- but I'm not- I want you to be with who you love- or like- and if that's, not me I get it. Take care.”

“You like me?”

He finally turns to face you again, you hate how sorrowful he looks.

“ Yes, I thought- I thought that was obvious- the flirting–”

Once again you were surprised at how different he was, even know he doesn't lash out, you almost wish he did you were used to that. You knew how to deal with that.

“The hand holding”

He clears his throat, shocked you finished his sentence

“Hux’s, I thought that was just what you were like, with everyone. I mean why would you treat me differently, in a good way? I assumed you treated all your friends like that.”

He huffs, but not with anger but like a small laugh.

“ I've never flirted with someone before, and I don't go around holding people's hands- I - I only do that with people I like- romantically- I only do those things with you.”

The two of you stay still, staring at each other, taking in the moment. You can't imagine anything ever being more perfect. It makes you want to cry, but you don't.

“I like you to.”

The words quietly fall from your mouth and you don't know what you want more, for him not to hear you or for him to hear you. The words flutter to his ears and you can see the moment he registers what you say, as his face lights back up, with that smile you wish you could frame in your heart.

He slowly starts to move closer, and you panic, letting yourself ramble.

“I do- I'm sorry I was- like giving a mixed signal- I'm just- I've never been with someone so - soft- someone who waits- they've always been like straightforward- that too nice- they've always been kind of forceful so I thought- you know that's how everyone does it-”

Your words freeze when he gets right up to you, setting the flowers on the counter before his hand gently takes yours, his other hand moves, landing on your chin.

“ Darlin- Can I kiss you?”

Your heart skips a beat, but it's unfamiliar, you were used to your heart jumping out of fear. This wasn't fear, this was excitement, at that name, that question. It was the first time you heard either.

“Yes.”

You thought he looked soft, but you couldn't even describe what his lips felt like, how his body felt better than your bed. This is it, the kiss you read about when you were 10, in those fairy tales. The kiss you tried to pretend Quinn could give you. It feels stupid to cry but you do, you let the few tears slide down your face.

Huxley pulls away, and his hand reaches your cheek, wiping it away.

“ You okay?”

His voice is quiet, and like the rest of him, soft. You look into his eyes, and for once you're not afraid to cry, because it's him, and you trust him.

“I’ve never gotten flowers. Thank you.”

“No problem dude, you're my friend. You deserve flowers.” You blinked at Huxley, you didn't have to use words for Hux to realize why you were looking at him with a raised eyebrow

“Oh- well I didn't- your not just a friend- I just- I didn't wanna break a boundary, y’know?”

You can't help yourself from kissing his sorry face.

“I know Hux. But don't call me dude or friend again.”

“You got it, Darlin.”