#romantic whump

It’s way past midnight. The house is all silent. 

B is asleep in their bedroom, like they always are at this time. For some reason, A keeps thinking about them instead of going to sleep. It’s silly, of course. And they should be sleeping too. It just feels awkward to sleep apart after everything that happened. A isn’t sure why, but they thought things would be different between them when everything returned to normal. 

Must’ve been only wishful thinking. 

But things are back to normal, and for that, A is thankful. C’s killer is in jail, the innocent person previously accused has been released and A and B are back to being roommates. That’s gotta be enough. 

At least for now. 

This train of thought helps relax A and soon they’re falling asleep again. They hear a sound at the window, but they’re already too far gone to care. 

That is, until a pair of hands claps their neck. 

A’s eyes open. In the dark, above them, there is a stranger, dressed all in black. They’re straddling A, hands pressing violently their neck. A tries to scream, but quickly find they have no way to do it. They kick and struggle, but this person is too strong. 

They don’t even say anything. No smart remarks of “Whumper sends you his best wishes” or “time to sleep with the fishes”. This has to be a professional. Which can only mean one thing. Whumper may have gone down, but not without a fight. 

As dark spots start to spread around A’s vision, they realize there is only one way to survive this. They have to wake up B on the other room. That would normally be easy if they weren’t the heaviest sleepers in the entire world. 

And still, A has to try. 

They start kicking again, but not at the attacker. They manage to unbalance the other, freeing one of their legs. With a quick movement, they kick the lamp on the nightstand. It splats against the floor, breaking into a million little shards. It was loud, but maybe not loud enough. 

The assassin doesn’t seem like it’s in the mood for playing. They press harder and A can feel their blood pumping against their fingers, having trouble passing through the death grip. A can feel their eyes rolling backwards, unconsciousness calling them. 

Before they go, however, they kick again, unexpectedly, pushing the entire nightstand down on top of the broken lamp. The movement uses up all of their strength and they stop struggling. 

A second later, glorious air comes inside and it’s so sudden they cough and choke on their own spit. A looks to find B has ripped the attacker from them and threw them against a wall, already hitting them across the face. A wants to feel victorious that they could do it, but they can’t think of anything but to breathe. They assume a fetal position, rolling out of the bed on the opposite side from the broken lamp. It’s stronger than them, they can’t explain it. All they can think is in and out, in and out. 

B throws the attacker inside of their bathroom, putting a chair under the doorknob to lock it. A thinks they’re running to them when they get to their side and reaches over, but B only moves beyond them to get the phone on top of the other bedside table. A stops, hands still on their waist, feeling as ridiculous as they ever felt. 

And while B calls an emergency, they start crying. 

When A starts feeling something again, they’ve moved to the living room. They have distant memories of the paramedics showing up and the police dragging the assassin from the bathroom, like they happened to someone else. Like they watched it in a movie. 

Everything that has any clarity right now is B’s arms around them. They don’t say anything. They just gently rub their back with one arm, while keeping them close with the other. 

“Can I sleep with you tonight?” A says what they wished they had said earlier tonight, before they were almost murdered and everything. 

B lets out an exasperated laugh. 

“Yeah, you can sleep with me tonight.” 

A is sure they’ll be mortified in the morning, but all of the inhibitions that they normally have don’t seem to be working tonight. For the first time in a long time, there is no excessive thinking. There is only one thing. 

B. 

“Can I sleep with you every night?” 

B looks down, their eyes expressing distant kindness. 

“Come now. I know tonight was scary. But it’s really over now.” 

A clears their throat. They have to say it - or it will choke them just as hard as that assassin did. Only it will be much slower. 

“This is not about tonight.” They say. “It’s about… Us.” 

“Us?” B looks genuinely entertained. 

“You know…” A hesitates for the first time tonight. “Back when we were running after Whumper it seemed… But not… I just… Did I do something wrong? Did I misread the signs?” 

B’s head tilts to the side as they smile. 

“I was just… I wanted to give you time to adjust, is all. I didn’t even know if… Things feel different when our lives are in danger. I just… I didn’t want to take advantage of you.” 

“Advantage of me? I’ve been living here without paying rent for almost a year now. If anyone is taking advantage of anyone, that’s me.” A laughs, a heavy weight lifting from their chest. 

“You know I don’t care about that.” 

The whole world holds their breath as B holds A’s face. Their eyes, oh, their eyes. How many times has A looked into them, looking for signs. And they were there all along. It’s the same as it always was, but it looks so different now. 

B leans over and kisses them. 

And for the second time tonight, A is breathless. But they don’t mind this time at all. 

This has nothing to do with my new fic. It was just an idea I had after finishing a book I was reading. I’ve been trying to get better at comfort since I focus too much on hurt. Hope you like it! 

If you’ve read it until here, here’s a reminder that I do requests and my askbox is always open!