Loving For Three Moonknight X Reader

FIVE - Is This Official?

Steven's eyes pealed open revealing the light in his flat. He looked at his alarm clock, 8:00 a.m.

He was confused at first but as he adjusted to being awake he realized Marc must have took over the body last night and went back to sleep on the bed instead of the couch.

"Where is Y/n?" He asked Marc looking into the reflection of the clear fish tank.

"She went home at like three." Marc said emotionless.

"Is she safe?" Steven furrowed his brows.

"Yeah, I watched her walk home." He shrugged.

A wave of relief washed over Steven, he definitely felt better than you did.

You sat on the floor of your hotel bathroom curled up on your knees as you woke up, the events of the night before pouring back into your brain like a flood.

After the petrifying night the man in white saved you, you walked home shaken with fear. At your hotel you hid yourself from the stress of the world, hiding in the bathroom.

Every sound you heard and every dark shadow in the corner of your eye frightened you. So you stayed in the bathroom, the only room with no windows.

Slowly you collected yourself and got dressed. Raking your mind to think of a place to go, but you couldn't think of one. You didn't feel safe at the hotel you were at, yet you didn't have any friends in London other than Steven.

If he counted.

After a while you decided to go to his flat and see if he was there.

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Knock! Knock!

Your knuckles tapped on the door, awaiting an answer.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

You knocked once again, still no answer, it was as silent as a graveyard. You came to the conclusion he wasn't home, hopelessness filling your gut.

Speaking of your gut, you were quite hungry so you decided to go to the store. Get some things to last you the time until you move into your flat out of the hotel.

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Your feet led you through the isles of the small store. You were trying to find the snack isle but somehow you ended up in the pet food isle. As you walked down the rows of pet food, you saw someone you recognized. Steven.

"What kind is it?" You heard Steven ask himself, except it didn't sound like him. He talked with an American accent.

"Steven?" You walked up to him.

"I got this Steven." He whispered to himself before turning around to face you.

"What?" You ran your hand through your hair.

"Nothing." He answered again with an American accent.

"Um..Do—do you have a cold?" You asked him.

"No?"  He furrowed his eyebrows. "Why would you think that?" He gave you a sour face.

"You just...you sound different." Your suspicions started to rise.

You thought about it, if he wasn't sick then what was wrong with him. Why is he putting on a silly little voice to.....to mess with you? No. Steven doesn't seem like that kind of guy? Or maybe—anyways you couldn't concentrate on that now.