Chapter Text
"When was the last time you've slept?" you asked, your voice tinged with both genuine worry and simmering frustration at his relentless disregard for his well-being. You furrowed your bows, your concern morphing into a deep frown that marred your features.
“You think I sleep? That’s funny.” The corners of Iggy's mouth twitched, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes, but his usual sharpness was noticeably absent. His words landed with an uncharacteristic flatness, abruptly interrupted by a weary yawn that underscored the extent of his exhaustion. Dark circles, like smudges of fatigue, etched themselves beneath his half-lidded eyes, evidence of his prolonged sleep deprivation. Oblivious to the world beyond his screen, he continued his fervent typing, pausing only to push up his glasses aggressively and rub his weary eyes as if hoping to squeeze out any remnants of alertness.
Your concern for him intensified, your mind spiraling with worries that threatened to consume you. It seemed as though he cared so little for sleep, nourishment, or even basic personal hygiene that dragging him away from his work to tend to his own well-being had become an arduous task.It was a constant battle between your fear for his health and his relentless dedication to his projects. Somewhere deep inside, you clung to the hope that he would one day perceive self-care as an advancement in the pursuit of scientific knowledge, an integral part of his own experiments. That way, you wouldn't have to resort to borderline torturous measures to convince him to take care of himself. But for now, it seemed you had no choice but to forcefully intervene.
“I’m being serious, Iggy.”
Iggy shrugged off your concern, a dismissive wave of his hand accompanied by a swig from his nearly-empty energy drink, quickly replaced by cracking open another one. The fact that he relied on caffeine to keep himself functioning only heightened your apprehension.
"And so am I," he responded flatly. "So, if you'll excuse me," Iggy attempted to rise from the comfort of his rolling chair, but you swiftly moved to block his path, exerting a gentle yet unyielding force to keep him seated. Your hand instinctively found its place on his chest-piece, a natural source of warmth that seeped through the material and into your palm. You fixed him with a stern glare, hoping to convey the gravity of the situation.
A deep sigh escaped Iggy's lips, a faint wisp of smoke trailing from his nostrils—a telltale sign that his impatience was teetering on the edge of igniting into a fiery display. Yet, you knew all too well that his threats of fireballs were mere bluffs, never to be realized. Nevertheless, you stood your ground, refusing to be swayed by his facade.
"No, you aren't excused," you asserted firmly, your voice resonating with unwavering determination. "The only way you're getting out of this chair is if you promise to sleep. Or I swear to any god that's listening that I will hold you here until we're both decomposing."
His grumble of discontent reverberated through the room, his face contorting into a sneer as he glowered at you. But you stood firm, unyielding in your resolve to ensure his well-being, even if it meant enduring his displeasure. Your unwavering commitment spoke volumes, silently urging him to acknowledge the necessity of self-care. It seemed to work, as his resolve and attitude faded into a tired acceptance. Finally, you had gotten through to that stupidly-stubborn brain of his.
"Yeah, sure, whatever you want," Iggy muttered begrudgingly, his words laced with annoyance and defeat. His grip tightened around your wrist, attempting to pry your hand away from his chest, silently begging for release. Your raised eyebrows conveyed your lack of conviction in his words, prompting him to speak again, this time with a hint of exasperation. "Stars above, I promise, jeez! Fucking crazy bitch," he mumbled under his breath, his frustrations evident as he finally managed to free himself from your grasp. The mumbled comment stung your heart, but you knew that it was a comment made to piss you off. The chair protested with creaks and groans as he clambered out of it, a visible testament to the exhaustion he carried.
Triumph surged within you as you followed closely behind him, your gaze fixed upon his retreating figure. A half-smirk danced upon your lips, a mixture of satisfaction and relief emanating from your every step.
●・○・●・○・●
The walk to Iggy's room felt significantly longer at night compared to the daytime. Perhaps it was the pervasive darkness that seemed to swallow the castle, making every step drag on. The only source of light came from the flickering flames of the wrought iron sconces that lined the walls, casting an eerie glow whenever a draft caused them to dance. Curiously, you pondered the origin of these mysterious drafts, as if the very castle had its own secret breaths. Through the long windows, your gaze fell upon the lava-ridden environment outside. Vaguely shaped mounds of lava rock emerged from the thick fog that enveloped the area. It struck you as peculiar how the coastal fog managed to make its way to the volcanic region, but you reasoned that the peninsula known as the "Dark Lands" likely lay somewhat below sea level. This peninsula, connected to the Mushroom Kingdom by a lake, was a fascinating yet foreboding place.
Lost in the dimly lit corridor, you found yourself absentmindedly gazing out of a window, entranced by the enigmatic scene beyond. After a while, you snapped out of your reverie, realizing that Iggy had disappeared from sight. Frustration welled up within you as you muttered to yourself about his seemingly endless legs, hastily making your way down the hallway in an attempt to catch up with him.
The awkward shuffle of your bedroom shoes echoed loudly in the otherwise silent corridor. The absence of any accompanying footsteps made the solitude feel even more oppressive. The cold stone floor seeped through your flimsy footwear, causing a shiver to run down your spine. The night air was far colder than you had anticipated, chilling you to the bone. In hindsight, your choice of a shorts and t-shirt ensemble seemed ill-advised. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you tried in vain to preserve whatever warmth you could generate.
The hallway stretched out endlessly before you, devoid of any distinguishing features. Doubt began to gnaw at your mind, whispering that you might have taken a wrong turn and become disoriented. Coming to a halt, you couldn't help but shiver again, taking a moment to observe your surroundings. A dresser adorned with a dark flower-filled vase stood to your left, accompanied by a portrait of the King hanging above it. The eyes in the painting seemed to pierce through the darkness, giving you an uncanny feeling. Another shiver coursed through your body, prompting you to rub your arms in a futile attempt to alleviate the goosebumps that dotted your skin. Lost in your own world, engaged in an unintentional staring contest with the painting, you remained oblivious to the figure stealthily closing in on you—until it was too late.
A pitiful cross between a squeak and a screech escaped your throat as you were suddenly grabbed from behind. The sound was quickly drowned out by a mischievous cackle that filled the air. Spinning on your heel, you faced the culprit, finding yourself met with the unmistakable sight of Iggy's telltale green spikes. He wore a delighted expression, still giggling at your startled reaction.
"That wasn't funny, you asshole!" you exclaimed, smacking his arm in both annoyance and embarrassment. Crossing your arms protectively over your chest, you attempted to retreat into yourself, hoping to shield your flushed face from further scrutiny. But Iggy's amusement only intensified, and he burst into another fit of maniacal giggles.
Heat flooded your cheeks as you sulked, feeling the weight of embarrassment pressing upon you. As if sensing your vulnerability, Iggy teased, "Oh, you poor, poor baby," drawing out the words in a mockingly sympathetic tone. Without warning, he reached out and grabbed your face, squishing it playfully. A protesting whine escaped your lips, but it seemed to encourage him further. Ignoring your protests, Iggy pulled you into a crushing hug, your face pressed against his chest-piece. The hard material pressed uncomfortably against your cheek, causing you to whine again. After a few moments of your futile attempts to wriggle free, he finally released you, allowing you to catch your breath.
“Where did you even go?” Red-faced and flustered, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of something at Iggy's sudden burst of affection. It was rare for you to be caught off guard by such displays, but when they came out of nowhere, they had a way of making you blush uncontrollably. Iggy simply shrugged, a smug expression lingering on his face, in response to your question about his whereabouts. He extended his hand toward you, offering it to you, and without hesitation, you reached out and took it, intertwining your fingers with his. The warmth that radiated from his touch brought a sense of comfort, easing the remnants of your embarrassment as you continued your way together.
Hand in hand, you and Iggy resumed your walk towards his room, the intimacy of your intertwined fingers creating a sense of closeness between you. The castle's eerie silence surrounded you, broken only by the faint echo of your footsteps as they reverberated through the dimly lit corridor. Each step you took together seemed to dissolve the lingering tension that had hung in the air, replaced now with a shared sense of connection and understanding.
As you traversed the labyrinthine halls, you found solace in the warmth that radiated from your joined hands, a comforting presence in the midst of the castle's cold embrace. The flickering light from the iron sconces cast elongated shadows that danced along the walls, their ethereal movements mimicking the delicate dance between the two of you. It was as if the castle itself recognized the significance of your bond, casting its ethereal glow to guide your path.
The surroundings grew more familiar as you ventured deeper into the heart of the castle. The subtle nuances of the stone walls, etched with age and history, became a testament to the enduring legacy of the kingdom. You couldn't help but be captivated by the intricate details of the tapestries that adorned the walls, their vibrant colors depicting scenes of bravery, romance, and triumph. Yet, despite the grandeur that surrounded you, it was the connection between you and Iggy that resonated most deeply.
hallway seemed to shrink in size as you walked, its vastness transforming into a more intimate space that belonged solely to the two of you. In this shared journey, you found solace in each other's presence, a mutual refuge from the chaos of the world outside. It was a moment frozen in time, where worries and responsibilities melted away, leaving only the two of you in its expanse.
Amidst the tranquility, a gentle breeze brushed against your cheeks, carrying with it a whisper of secrets from the castle's forgotten past. The mysteries of its ancient halls seemed to unfold before your eyes, unveiling tales of forgotten heroes and unsung triumphs. You couldn't help but wonder about the lives that had once thrived within these walls, their legacies forever woven into the fabric of the castle's history.
Lost in thought, you stole glances at Iggy, his presence a constant reminder of the intricate tapestry of your own shared story. His vibrant personality, hidden beneath a veil of brilliance and eccentricity, never ceased to captivate you. Despite his sharp wit and occasional aloofness, his willingness to take your hand and let you guide him towards self-care spoke volumes about the trust he placed in you.
The familiarity of Iggy's room grew nearer, its threshold becoming a symbolic gateway to a realm where the worries of the world would momentarily recede. Your steps became lighter, the weight of the castle's history fading as you focused on the present. With each passing moment, the anticipation built, mingling with the unspoken promises that hung between you.
As you arrived at the door of Iggy's room, he turned to you, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. His gaze met yours, a silent expression of gratitude for your unwavering support. There was an unspoken understanding that, in this room, you would ensure he found the rest and care he so desperately needed. Even if he tried to fight both it and you along the way.
You reached out, your free hand gently grazing the doorknob before turning it, allowing the door to swing open. The room welcomed you with an air of tranquility, its familiar surroundings serving as a sanctuary for both of you.
The room, once a mere physical space, transformed into a haven where you would guide Iggy towards a night of much-needed rest. The glow from a softly lit lamp cast a warm ambiance, creating a serene atmosphere that would coax away the burdens of the day. As Iggy's eyes met yours, gratitude sparkled within their depths, silently affirming the significance of your willingness to, quite literally, stick by him.
With a gentle squeeze of his hand, you silently conveyed your commitment to his well-being. The weight of responsibility mingled with a tender affection, intertwining in this moment that held the potential for healing and growth. And as the door closed behind you, shutting out the world beyond, you knew that this night held the promise of not just rest, but the rejuvenation of body, mind, and heart. For the both of you.
You settled soon onto the soft cushions of Iggy's bed, your bodies molding together in a seamless fit. His arm instinctively wrapped around you, drawing you closer, as if he sought solace in your proximity, silently acknowledging the comfort you provided. The gentle rise and fall of his chest against your back served as a reminder of the steady rhythm of his breathing—a reminder that, despite his brilliance and occasional stubbornness, he was just as vulnerable and in need of care as anyone else.
In the hushed atmosphere, Iggy's voice broke the silence, tinged with a touch of hesitancy. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his words laced with genuine remorse. "For being... well, for being a bitch sometimes. I know it's not fair to you, and I appreciate you putting up with me."
Your heart swelled with affection and understanding, reassured by his willingness to acknowledge his sometimes very—you struggled to find the appropriate word complex enough to describe his nature. You shifted within his embrace, turning to face him, your eyes meeting his, filled with unwavering compassion.
"Hey," you whispered softly, your voice infused with tenderness. You reached up to affectionately rub your thumb over his cheek. Those beautiful baby blues of his searched your face for any sign that you were upset with him. Stubborn as he was, and as much as he genuinely could be the biggest pain in your ass, he was as much your partner and love as you were his. No amount of bitching or snarky comments would ever be able to change that. A warm smile quirked up your lips as your thumb traced over his own. “Bitch or not, you’re still my baby, I hope you know that. It would take a lot, and I mean a lot, for that to change. You're passionate, driven, and sometimes a little too absorbed in your work that I sometimes wonder who you’re dating,” you teased, “but that doesn't change how much I care about you, dumbass.”
A faint smile tugged at the corners of Iggy's lips, gratitude twinkling in his eyes. You noticed the growing sheen that seemed to glaze over them. The weight of his self-imposed expectations seemed to lessen in that moment, as if your words held the power to set him free from his own harsh judgments. It seemed that, for once, his brain had quieted down enough to let him fully absorb your words.
"And please remember," you continued, your voice filled with sincerity, "that you don't have to face everything alone. I’m here to help in whatever way I can, but baby you have to let me. I know just how stubborn you are, and how you don’t like changing things, but I genuinely want to support and uplift you the best I can. You gotta stop fighting me on it, please. I’m here, and I will continue to be here no matter what. Okay?”
Iggy's grip tightened gently, his embrace becoming a testament to the unspoken promises exchanged between you. The vulnerability he displayed, opening himself up to your compassion and care, reinforced the depth of his trust in you. He sniffled quietly, and you reached up to brush off a stray tear before it could make its path down his cheek. You smiled at how pretty he looked in the low-light, even if he was fighting tears.
With a contented sigh, Iggy rested his head against yours, his words a gentle murmur against your ear. "Thank you," he whispered, the genuine appreciation resonating through each syllable. "Thank you for always being there, for understanding me even when I don't understand myself. Your presence means more to me than words can express."
In that moment, time seemed to stand still as you basked in the warmth of his gratitude. The room held an atmosphere of serene acceptance, where acceptance of each other's flaws and unwavering support flourished.
You leaned in to press a soft kiss to his forehead, and ran your fingers through his hair. His eyes fluttered shut as you began gently scratching your nails across his scalp. He relaxed completely into your touch, his breathing beginning to even out. Exhaustion seemed to be catching up to him.
As you held each other in a gentle embrace, the weight of the world seemed to dissipate, leaving only the promise of a night of rest and rejuvenation. Soon, you found yourself beginning to dose off as well, his even breathing serving as the perfect sleep aid for you. Sated and heart brimming with love, you fell asleep with a soft “I love you”.