Old Friends Silver - Mad Maggie x fem!reader

16

Maggie's POV

"Piss off Walt." I mumbled before grabbing the thin quilt and pulling it up to my chin. He was stood at the bottom of my bed, his arms folded across his chest... smug bastard.

"Still on bedrest eh Mags?" He chuckled; I leaned forward to smack him but the stabbing pain in my side caused me to fall backwards. He laughed, "Not so high and mighty now." I chewed the inside of my cheek.

"Can't believe (y/n) isn't letting me leave." I grumbled.

"Oh, come on, you're not that mad about it." He said, walking around the side of the bed and standing by my side. "You get to stare at a pretty girl all day while she tenderly takes care of you." He joked, poking my bandages wounds. I winced and moved away from him.

The second we got home from Kemarsh, (y/n) demanded that I stay in Addy's hospital. I don't think I've ever seen her that frazzled. As soon as my ass was on this bed, she began faffing me. Taking my temperature, testing my blood levels, cleaning my wounds every 3 fucking hours. It seemed excessive... but I wasn't complaining. I... kind of liked being around her.

The ward was fairly busy. A bomb went off downtown while we were away. Addy was managing it all perfectly, (y/n) just followed her around. I liked watching her though. Watching as she stumbles around the beds. As she laughs with the patients; taking her time getting to know them all. I especially liked it when she would sit beside me. She would give me this little apologetic smile every time I joked about her shooting me. She would close her eyes for a second as the smile spread across her face- but just for a moment. Blink and you miss it.

"Stop getting her worked up." (y/n)'s voice shouted from across the hall, I gave Walter a smug smile. He rolled his eyes and went to hit me in retaliation. "Walt!" She warned. I laughed as he backed away from me. I glanced over at her. Her hair was up today, exposing her neck. She was wearing one of my very old shirts again- Walter keeps nagging me about when we're going to pick some clothes up for her. I keep procrastinating because I like looking at her in them. I like the way they hug her, the way they cling to her body. The way the accentuate every curve. I looked up at the ceiling. Nope. Nope. Nope. Margaret, stop that.

As much as I liked being around her, I also hated it. It was me and Walter, that's it. That's all it could ever be. Sure, Walter brought people home. Sure he... loves them. But I don't. I don't love things. I love Salvo. I love Walter. Those are the only two things I can fit in my heart.

Walter says its because I'm not used to being loved. The girls in high school overlooked me. They thought I was... insane basically. I was always too much. Too crazy, too patriotic, too distant. Walter was the same as me... but they all flocked to him. He was the right amount of crazy. He was always just right to people.

I was never 'just right'

I never needed romance. I just bung it up. Walter has tried his damn hardest to 'teach me'. But every compliment is strained and slightly creepy. Every glance across a room is stalkerish. Every feeble attempt at flirting would earn me a restraining order. Maggie doesn't flirt. Maggie doesn't romance. Maggie can't do it.

Being around (y/n) is like a constant reminder of where I fail. I asked her if she liked me touching her... and she laughed. Laughed right in my face. In that moment, the pain of the gunshots, the throbbing of my headache. Those pains didn't compare to the embarrassment I felt.

I confided in Walter about it the other day, he also laughed. He chuckled away. Laughing at my fucking despair. "That's so stupid Mags." He said, rocking back and forth in the chair (y/n) put next to my bed. "Jesus." He wiped a tear away from his eye, "Mate, just ask her out already."