Narrating Our Love (The Host x Reader)

7//Late-Night Help

No POV.

It was currently 7:36pm, and (Y/N) was still at The Host's home, watching an old TV show; The A-Team. The Host was in the kitchen, making some dinner.

(Y/N) asked him several times if he needed help with anything, but he always insisted he didn't need the help, thanked her several times, and gestured towards the couch where she could watch what was on the television before dinner would be placed on the table.

Her phone rang, and she silenced it quickly, not expecting a phone call, and read the number. 478-466-2176. Of course, her ex using a random number. How expectant. She left the phone to ring, and it went to voicemail. A few minutes pass, and the phone rings again with the same number. She lets it ring again, then blocks it.

"The Host, who means well, speaks up; 'Have you tried keeping your phone off? Any calls that your ex makes will go straight to voicemail, so he won't bother you any more.'"

Ah, that's right. Host asked her permission to talk in 3rd-person again.

("You don't have to ask me. It's your home, I'm just the guest."

"But... I d-don't want you t-to be uncomf-f-fortable..."

"I'm not. Here, lets make a deal; you don't narrate my thoughts or actions, just yours okay?"

"O-Okay."

"Thank you, Host."

She shrugs. "If only. He'll try finding me. I doubt he'll find me here, but still. It's best to just let them go to voicemail and block the numbers. Plus, someone else might call me, like my friend, and I don't want her thinking something happened."

"The Host nods and continues finishing up the dinner. 'Dinner should be ready in 8 minutes.' He says."

"Thank you. Are you s-"

"'(Y/N), I promise, I have everything taken care of and handled by myself. You just stay and sit there until it's all ready, okay?' The Host chuckles and gives her a pleasant smile."

"Alrighty, then." (Y/N) smiles back and faces the TV again.

The Host may be a bit strange, but oddly enough... very cute.

"The Host chuckles."

"Huh?"

"'Oh, nothing.' He says, casually. 'Dinner is ready, though! Come, sit at the nook, here.'"

As (Y/N) got up, his kitchen island turned into a small nook complete with bar stools to sit on. He places the food down. On the bar was steak, hamburger buns, and many toppings; lettuce, onion, ketchup, mustard, all of that good stuff.

"Host! Wow, it's so divine..." (Y/N) was practically drooling over the food, and he smiled proudly.

"The Host bows, thanking (Y/N) so much for the complement... 'Ah'. He says, holding his head. 'Give me a moment, The Host needs to... take care of something. Go ahead and eat, I will be right back.'"

"You sure?"

"'Yes.' The Host left the room quickly..." (Y/N) couldn't hear what else he was narrating, so she went ahead and made herself a steak sandwich.

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The Host's POV.

"The Host, frustrated at his headache, demands to know what's going on!"

"Sorry, buddy. I reaaaallly hate to do this to you in front of your lady friend, but you're gonna thank me later. Your bandages, have you not noticed how red and soggy they're becoming?"

"The Host reached up to the bandage, almost freaking out. 'N-No?! Oh, God! Did any blood get in the food?! But... (Y/N) didn't ask about it. Did... she not see it? Not want to see it?'" I felt my heart beat quickly.

"Host! Calm yourself! Nothing got in the food. You just need to change bandages. I don't think she'll notice."

"The Host nods and makes his way to the dresser, grabbing a new set, and heading for the bathroom."

"Hey, er, Host? I need to use the bathroom, I got some sauce on my shirt. Can you show me where it is?" (Y/N) called from the other side of the door.

"Great timing, girl."

"'She has a name!' The Host shouts angrily-"

"... Uh... y-yeah?"

"'S-Sorry! Uh...'" I lost my words for once. I can't have her see me like this, but there's no mirror in here. Damn! Wait, I can-

"Host, is... everything alright?" (Y/N) knocks on the door lightly.

"'Yes! I mean, no! I-...'"

"Let her help you, you're in no way-"

"'I don't need help, Author! My eyes are fine, they're fine! Leave me alone!'" I breathe heavily. "'My eyes. My damned eyes. I was so much better with them, now look at me. You experienced this pain. You knew it would happen. Why didn't you stop it?'"

"Host, I-"

"'The Host doesn't want to hear you any more. Leave my thoughts alone.'" I get up and open the door, my head down.

"'I am very sorry. Let me show you the restroom.' The Host says..." I couldn't finish; embarrassed.

"The Host says... flustered...?"

"'Something like that. What all did you hear?' He asks, taking her hand delicately and taking her to the bathroom."

"Well, everything. I'm sorry that, uh... Andrew?-"

"'Author.' The Host corrected."

"Author. I'm sorry he's being mean to you. Was he being a jerk about your eyes?"

"'Sort of. It's really... embarrassing.' He halts his walking and opens up the bathroom door for (Y/N). 'Here. Uh, if you need to wash your shirt, just let me know. I'll come by with another for you.' He rubs the back of his neck, and sh-... Still looking down, The Host bows and heads back to his room."

"Actually, Host... I'm sorry. There's no easy way of saying this, but... you're um... dripping... do you need help? My shirt isn't as important as your... um... eyes."

"He hesitates to reply... and... Host, he..." I take a shuddery breath in. "'N-No. Take care of your shirt. I can uh... take care of... me.' The Host hurries back to his room."

"... host..." She whispers.

I ignore her. I'm sorry, (Y/N).

1012 words.