The One You Trust (YB Peter x Reader)

Chapter 6

You remained in your thoughts until YB pulled you back. A simple kiss to the forehead was all it took for you to meet his love filled eyes. It made your eyes water to see every time, as the emotion from him was too overwhelming. He smiled and instructed you to stay put, as he was going to make you breakfast. Before you could say anything else to him, such as wether or not you had any allergies or preferences, he was gone. You shouted them out anyway, hoping it reached his ears before he began cooking for you, but no response was given.

"Hopefully I don't die today," you muttered.

You unlocked your phone again, the pain returning to the forefront of your thoughts. Lucy was an asshole, and a terrible friend, but she was still a friend nonetheless. Sure she never paid rent on time, and expected you to do more than she did in regards to keeping everything tidy, but her presence was still something that would be missed. Regardless of her bad habits, she was still Lucy, your friend and roommate.

You wondered how her family took the news. They hated each other for sure, yet hearing your child had died must be difficult to handle. They were good for nothing parents though, so really any possibility was a realistic one. The arguments you were privy to before she moved in were a sight to see, as were they after. Truly, she had the worst parents.

You smiled sadly, you'd miss her arguments with other people. She had absolutely no reason to the majority of fights she picked, and you always guessed that she was just bored. Always having to have the last word, she also was the loudest in an argument. Always. It would turn into a screaming match nine times out of ten. Fuck, it was entertaining sometimes. However when you were trying to sleep? The most annoying thing on the planet was her fighting with the current boyfriend.

You shook the thoughts away, and forced your attention to stay on your phone, on the mindless apps you had to keep your anxiety at bay. They didn't work all the time, but you had to try something. You had to do something. You were so used to working all the time now that actively having nothing to do was unusual, almost uncomfortable. Plus, YB was taking care of you. It was strange in all honesty. You weren't sure what kind of strange it was yet.

He came into the room with a plate of your favorite breakfast food, and a warm smile on his face. He looked so proud of himself that it made your heart melt. It was a such sweet gesture really, that despite the full feeling of your stomach, and the weight in your chest, you forced yourself to eat as much as you could. Like hell you would upset him like that, not when he looks so adorable, staring at you with expecting and excited eyes...

You didn't finish all of it, but you ate more than you thought you could. This was seemingly enough for him, and although he obviously wanted to press the issue further, he didn't. He asked if everything tasted alright, and if there was anything he could improve upon, and you said no. You didn't have the strength to tell him otherwise anyway. It was edible enough to eat, and although it wasn't the best, it was the thought that counted.

He tried so hard for you. How could you protest?

He crawled into bed next to you after he ate his own food, and removed the leftovers from the room, wrapping his arm around you as he did. He peered over your shoulder, curious as to what you were doing. It was a simple question. An easy to answer question that anyone should've been able to answer, but not you. No, you had to start fucking crying again.

Immediately he pulled you tighter against him, wrapping you in a side hug. He asked what was wrong, but your throat was too tight to form any words. The moment he asked, the crying and shaking grew worse, and the more you tried to suppress the tears, the more painful they became. You couldn't even think straight, running fully on instinct now. YB remained silent as you sobbed into him, and you couldn't see his face to gage his emotions. You felt weak. You felt like a nuisance.

Some time passed. You couldn't think about how long, seconds, minutes maybe. It didn't matter, the crying had stopped almost like a switch in your head. "Sorry." You said, breaking away and wiping the tears away with your arm. "I- ... sorry."

He reached over to his bedside table, handing you the tissues that he placed there. You hadn't remembered if they were there previously, or if he had moved them there last night, but it didn't fully matter. "Is there a way I can help?" He asked, concern only in his tone. Why wasn't he judging you, or screaming at you? Why wasn't he annoyed with this? You'd been in his home for less than twelve hours and you'd already sobbed to him twice.

"It wont stop." You whispered. "My thoughts... they're just too loud."

He nodded, arm returning around your shoulder. "That's okay. I don't mind."

He should mind. He absolutely should fucking mind. "Why?"

"Hmm?"

"Why do you care so much? You said you love me... but how could you love this?"

He paused for a moment, and you were terrified to even look up at him. You were so frustrated with yourself, you had no control over what you said anymore. This outburst was bound to send him away. "Because I love you for you." He stated. "If I didn't love you like this, how could I love you at all? You're more than you're struggles, (Y/N). You're more than this, too. Sure, this is part of you, but it's not... it's not what makes you you."

"I'm not good enough for that."

"I disagree."

"I disagree with your disagreement." You smiled sadly. "Fuck, I'm sorry. This is a lot."

"It's okay, I don't mind it." He replied. "Do you want to stay here and cuddle? Or we could move to the couch?"

"I... Im kind of tired." You sniffled, wiping your nose with the tissues. "Crying... gatta love it."

He chuckled, "alright. Nap time is always okay."

He got out of bed and removed the used tissues and the box from the bed, about to exit the room when he told you he'd be right back. You hadn't even realized that you were about to panic over the thought of him leaving until the relief struck you. He left and came back within a minute, and was right back at your side once more. Lights off, curtains closed, and the pillow calling your name as your body screamed at you to relax. You wouldn't be able to, not now at least. Despite the physical pain caused by your grieving you couldn't relax. Even exhausted your sleep didn't come to you quickly.

Curling into his warmth was nice, though.

It made you nearly forget the events of the past day.

If only you knew then just how dangerous that thought was.

[Sorry for the short chapter, twas midterm week and didn't have a lot of time to write. Also pretty mundane for a chapter, I promise the next one will be more action.]