Simp Squad Oneshots

Movie Night (Lloyliza)

Eliza_Cameron, I just really feel like annoying you right now. It was either you or Ali, so deal with it.

***(Eliza's POV)***

I inhale deeply in the darkened room, nestled warmly and safely against a hard chest.

Safety. It's never something I've needed. Never something I've desired.

Well, I've tried not to. Admitting vulnerability is...not my strong suit.

Lloyd readjusts his arm around me to shut off the television remote. After a moment, he quietly asks, "Eliza?"

I don't reply. I can't. It's impossible to break this sacred moment - this spell he's woven over me.

It was never supposed to go this way. We were just watching some late-night television together while the rest of the team was out on a mission. We weren't supposed to cuddle up under a shared blanket or laugh over stupid ads or reminisce about childhood cartoons.

But that's exactly what happened.

Lloyd runs his finger over my cheekbone, and I resist a pleased shudder.

"Are you awake?" he whispers huskily, voice deep and soothing. And dream-worthy, though I'll die before I admit it.

I keep my breathing even and my eyes lazily closed. If Lloyd thinks I'm asleep, maybe this moment will last. Maybe I won't have to ask him to stay or tuck me tighter against him or lay his head atop mine so I feel his rhythmic breathing against my neck.

Yet he shifts underneath me. The movement is slow and controlled - he is a ninja, after all - but even if I was asleep, it'd be enough to wake me. Ever since I met Lloyd, it's like I can almost sense when he's around me.

So I know that he's leaving me here. Without him. Alone.

He gingerly shifts his weight off the couch and tucks my duvet tighter around my shoulders. The touch makes me feel full inside - full of comfort and happiness and hope for the future.

"I'd stay here with you, for the record," he murmurs gruffly. "But the guys will be back anytime now, and I know you wouldn't like them seeing us this close." Something that passes for a tortured chuckle sounds in the back of his throat, and suddenly I feel warm, moist, soft lips press against my cheek.

My heart soars with that one gesture, and I almost forget I'm pretending to be asleep.

"Good night, Eliza," he whispers.

I so want to say something back. But I can't - I can't admit that I care about him. That's not the image I've always worked so hard to portray. I'm not allowed to confess I have feelings for him and face the rejection and relentless teasing that will inevitably come.

I'm stronger than that.

And the soft creak of floorboards under heavy feet indicates that Lloyd is already taking my silence as an answer.