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It's evening out and you're nustled up with a good book in your bedroom, laying comfortably on your bed. Usually you wouldn't be reading, but something about hanging out with the embodiment of literature has gotten you back in your early days when you'd read a lot for school projects. This book in particular is a rather steamy one, a book that was recommended to you by Bathsheba. The story is between a comb and a hairbrush, both of them obvious pining each other, but neither of them ever noticing.
You flail the book down onto your bedsheet covers dramatically, apologizing to Betty even if you don't have your dateviators on at the moment. Talking to all these objects has gotten you to be much more mindful of your surroundings, making you more grateful than you've been in awhile.
You decide on waking up Lyric for your last charge of the night. You're sure talking to him this late wouldn't be much of an issue, especially since Lyric doesn't seem to mind your company one bit. If anything, he longs for it. So, when you put your dateviators on and point them at your book, Lyric's face instantly lights up.
"Lyric!" you exclaim, watching as Lyric shuffles awkwardly at the side of your bed. Usually you two would meet up in Mac's room or by your bedroom's closet, but never has he seen you so comfortable. You're in your bed curled up, resting under the moonlight like you're an artifact waiting to be studied.
"Good evening, what book have you been reading?" he inquires, noting to keep a good distance from you in fear of overstepping.
"A romance novel. It's called 'Ti-haired of Waiting For You,'" you reply, scooting closer to him.
You don't think he's ever too much. Even when he talks on and on about a new book he's been reading, even when he's caught up in catching you up on a new story idea he has or even when he's just sitting next to you in silence, reading books with you. You always appreciate his presence and you can tell he appreciates yours.
"You can scoot closer, you know. I don't mind," you inform, scooting a bit to make room for him to lay next to you.
You and Lyric are close. You've helped him write a novel and he's confessed his love for you, but to say you two are a couple is an understatement. Lyric most of the time is too nervous to initiate anything, this being his first serious relationship, but even when you two do things they're not too romantic.
Lyric thinks for a moment before ultimately giving in and laying next to you. He contemplates whether or not to get other the sheets, but his thoughts are cut short when you lift the covers over him and hold him close to your chest. You two have cuddled, held hangs, all those small, cute things, but right now as the moonlight cascades over your beautiful body, your chests smooshed against each other, Lyric can't help but overheat a little. If he was told his pages were on fire, he'd believe it.
"Ah, w-what are you doing?" he stutters softly, his hands awkwardly glued to his sides.
You laugh cheerfully at his reaction, gently grabbing his hands in your own. "You don't have to be so nervous. We've been together for awhile, haven't we?" you ask rhetorically, looking into his eyes with a look that makes his face soften and his paper half weak.
"We have, it's just... I don't really know how to be good for you. I don't know if I ever make you uncomfortable or if I'm doing the wrong thing," he explains rubbing circles into your hand as he calms himself, "But I do enjoy your company. You make me feel grounded. Like picking up a good book you're never able to put down."
"Lyric..." you sigh, leaning to press a soft kiss to his cheek, "You never make me uncomfortable. If you're ever worried about anything, just ask. I swear I'll never judge you for wanting to do more with me. We've read smutty books together, it's not like I don't know what you'd want."
Lyric's face flushes at this, heat rushing to his cheeks. "Right, right," his voice wobbles slightly as he speaks, the kiss you placed on his cheek earlier not helping to calm his nerves.
You think for a moment, trying to come up with a worthy solution. Time passes by slowly as Lyric awkwardly looks everywhere but you. "Let's try this," you state, sitting up in the bed with Lyric's hands still in your own, "You name something you'd like to do with me and I tell you whether or not I'd be opposed to it."
Lyric nods his head, the book on his head bobbing gently. "Okay, well, I've always wanted to kiss you, maybe we can start there?" he says nervously, a slow smile creeping onto his face.
You stiffle a laugh. You would have thought him asking was stupid if it weren't for the fact you've been nervous to ask too. Instead of verbally replying, you move one of your hands to rest gently on his jaw, inching his face closer and closer to yours. Your watch as his eyes flutter close and your bodies instinctively press against one another. The kiss is breif, sweet and full of love. Your other hand slowly changes from holding his hand, to holding the side of the book resting on his head.
When you both release from the kiss, you can swear you hear his heartbeat over your own. "Can we do that again?" Lyric asks, a bit more confident than before. You nod your head vigorously, leaning towards him before he can change his mind.
Your lips press against each other once more, one hand still on his chin while the other rests on top of his head. Lyric has his arms resting behind your back, pulling you flush against him. Despite how hot the body heat is with both of you so close together, you don't seem to mind the closeness. Lyric sees this as a sigh to keep going, to press on with more kisses and love until you're both panting and out of breath.
Before you can get to that point, Lyric stops suddenly, looking horrified. "Babe?" he speaks softly, a jarring tone compared to the moment you were having earlier. You watch as Lyric stands up without warning, rushing downstairs to retrieve something. He comes back with a sanitizing wipe and a band-aid, seemingly attending to a wound you didn't know you had on your head.
"I talked to Farya and she said that it's important to make sure to wash your wound before applying any soft of bandage," he explains, though you're still confused on why you're hurt in the first place. He moves slowly, the wipe stining a bit. You wince as the alcohol in the wipe burns like the sun was pressed against your skin. "I know, I know, alcohol wipes do not feel good when you have a papercut."
"Wait, papercut?" you ask, all the pieces suddenly clicking into place. One of Lyric's pages must have cut against you by mistake. That's why he immediately jumped up and felt the need to help you. "It's not your fault," you say to him before he can even start apologizing, "It was an accident and you've obviously sorry. I really don't mind though-"
"It is my fault! I let you get hurt because I was too distracted on what I wanted. I'm sorry," he whimpers. You can hear the strain in his voice as he finishes up cleaning your cut and places the band-aid onto your face. "I really should have been more mindful..."
You cup his face into your hands, kindly forcing him to look at you. "Hey, I don't care if you hurt me by accident. I'd get cut a hundred times if it means I get to spend my time with you. Please never feel like it's your fault," you reassure him, pressing your forehead against his. He's hesitant to react at first, but then melts into your touch, letting out a soft hum as he lets his eyes close. "Stay the night with me?"
"How could I say no?"
You spend the rest of the night wrapped up in your boyfriend's embrace, holding him close to your chest. The only sounds that can be heard is the mixxed sounds of both of you breathing. His hands rest on your back as yours wrap around his. You bury your head into neck, breathing in his scent as you quietly drift off into another world.
When the curtains open and the clock hits 9am, you whisper into his ear, "Just a little bit longer." Lyric swears from that moment, he will do whatever he can to make it up to you. Whether that be with any paper on at all or not.
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