Newsies One Shots

His Promise

Like every other morning, Feister was woken up from a deep and peaceful sleep due to a loud crash coming from out in the hallway. She groaned as she snuggled deeper into the mattress, pulling the blankets up and hoped the noise would stop. Deep down, she knew that wasn't the case. More yells were shouted and eventually She had enough. She forced herself up and out of bed since it was no use in trying to get any extra sleep. Just as she was stretching her arms out, Brooklyn was sitting up right in her bed that was on the opposite side of the room. "Why are they always so loud in the morning?" the freckled girl asked with a yawn.

"Cause they're teenage boys who don't know the meanin' of quiet," Feister replied somewhat bitterly as she headed towards the door. She opened it a little, peaking her head out to see some of the boys were walking in and out of their bedrooms all wearing pj pants and t-shirts. Though a few of them weren't wearing a shirt. And sadly her boyfriend was one of them. From across the hallway he spotted her almost immediately. He walked up to where she stood, and leaned one arm against the doorframe, his body now somewhat at an angle as he looked at her with a soft, hidden smirk across his lips. Up close she noticed his hair was still messy after a long night's sleep.

"Hey there beautiful," Mush greeted. His voice was slightly deeper than it usually was, giving away the fact that he was still a little tired himself.

"Hi," Feister replied. She stepped out of the bedroom and closed the door behind her before leaning her back against the other side of the frame. She knew Brooklyn took a few extra minutes to wake fully up in the morning. She did as well, but the difference in it was that Feister was used to the boys rowdiness, Brooklyn wasn't just yet. She crossed her arms over her chest and asked, "Where's your shirt?"

"Have you looked in a mirror lately?" his eyes trailed down then back up, silently telling her she knew where his shirt was.

"You know what I mean," Feister replied in a unamused tone. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed he was subtly flexing his arm muscle in front of her. She knew Mush was one of the boys who liked to keep in shape. By no means was he the type of guy you'd see at the gym who were overly muscular, Mush preferred to keep it simple by doing pull ups on the doorframe or push ups every now and again. But to Feister, there was nothing to look at. Nothing to be impressed about. When they were younger it drove her insane. She always told him he has limp noodles for arms, and yes, she does still think that. How could she not after all the times he'd bombard her with the, "I think somethin' is startin' to show up." so to get him to leave her alone, she'd claim there wasn't anything to look at. And there still isn't in her opinion. But that seemed to have slipped his mind.

"It was hot last night," Mush replied. "Besides..." his smirk grew a little bit. "You can't tell me you don't like what you see..."

With a little sigh, Feister closed the already short distance between her and Mush, looked him directly in the eyes. Lightly, she brought the tips of her fingers gently run along the side of his arm. The mere warmth of his skin and smooth bumps of the muscle there sent a tingle up her spine. But she stayed focused on the task at hand as she continued to let her fingers run up his arm and to the back of his neck, stopping at the spot where hair meets skin. "I dunno what you're talking about." her voice was as light and innocent as she could make it sound while her eyes were wide like a newborn deer.

It's fairly obvious Mush gets tongue tied when it came to Feister. But in that moment, he ended up gulping and he may or may not have let out his nervous laugh. He had to admit, this girl knew how to play her cards just right. Which is odd considering she's the worst poker player in the world. "That umm..." he cleared his throat. He knew he needed to look away from her gaze, but that was easier said than done. "That feels nice," he finished, loving the way her fingers gently played with the hair at the nape of his neck, then softly dragged against his skin.