Stuart Twombly x reader

20

There's something about writing this story that makes me happy XD

 You can barely focus the next morning when you wake up, your head pounding and an awful, bitter taste that sits in the back of your throat and refuses to shift. The second you step outside your house into the sunlight, you automatically wish to crawl back under the covers like a vampire, your eyes stinging uncomfortably and your head beating like a drum, but you manage to stagger to the cab that will take you to Google.

 The library is far quieter and you bask in the darkness, massaging your forehead with your fingertips. You can remember bits and pieces of the night before - singing in the bar, landing on the floor, Stuart taking you home - and wish with every ounce of wilful hope in your body that you didn't do or say anything completely embarrassing.

 "Rough night?" Carrie whispers next to you and you nod miserably, mind preoccupied with the possibility of last night's events, wondering what happened with Stuart. You suddenly have a dark thought: what if you had told him how you felt? You've only just come to the terms of liking him yourself; you pray you didn't force it on him too.

 You're anxious all through your shift, stamping the books so distractedly that the date in ink is upside down, though you barely notice this. At lunch, you grab your bag and hurry to the usual table, keen to get it over with. The sudden bright light and buzz of chatter doesn't help your pounding brain, and groan to yourself as you weave in and out of interns to get to your friends.

 Just as you're nearing the empty table, a hand clamps on your forearm and you're spun around to see Stuart grinning behind you, a soft expression on his face as he looks down at you.

 "God, you scared me!" you exclaim, hand to your chest, and wince at the striking pain in your head.

 "How d'you feel, bookworm?" he teases, walking next to you with an impish smirk.

 "Bad," you groan, dropping onto the bench with a sickly slump. "I'm never doing that again."

 "I wouldn't if I were you," Stuart remarks with raised eyebrows, suddenly seeming like a wary parent. "You were insane."

 "Did you take me home?" you question before he starts on how crazy you became when you were drunk, unprepared for the embarrassment. Stuart's grin slips slightly.

 "Yeah," he says stiffly. "Is there a problem?"

 "No," you reply. You add as an afterthought, "Why take me home, though?"

 Stuart looks down at the table as he takes a deep breath, sliding his hand over the edges. "I just thought it was irresponsible that Billy let you get that way. You weren't right for being out."

 "What do you mean?" you ask, slightly offended.

 Stuart fights the smirk breaking through by pursing his lips. "Well, let's put it this way - your solo version of Party Rock Anthem was scarring."

 When you groan in horror and put your hands to your face, he chuckles and continues, "You wouldn't let go of Yo-yo's leg at one point -"

 "Stop!" you beg.

 "- took four of us to get you off."

 "And that's when you took me home?" you ask, peering at him between your fingers.

 "Yes. Then you asked me to put you to bed and told me you wanted us to be friends," Stuart continues, his voice flat with a heavy undertone that seems almost unhappy.

 "I didn't say anything weird, did I?" You have to ask.

 "You said you wanted to be friends with me; that's weird enough," Stuart snorts, leaning back in his chair and still playing with the side of the table.

 "So...I guess we're friends now. Right?" you check, and Stuart looks at you thoughtfully, half-smiling.

 "We're friends," he agrees before Neha and Lyle come over with food, the two of them preoccupied with coaxing Yo-yo to come over instead of staring at you with fear frozen.

*

 By the end of the day, after hours of being told tales of your weird escapades last night and actually receiving Stuart's phone number - will he text you? When should you text him? The panic is endless - you are cornered by Neha, who automatically asks you the burning question: what happened when Stuart took you home?

 "Didn't you tell him how you felt?" she asks with serious eyes, almost pressing you against the wall.

 "No," you gasp, horrified. Neha shrugs sadly, sighing hopelessly.

 "Oh. I was going to say, that was your opportunity. You were drunk enough to say it without getting all awkward, so even if he did say he didn't feel the same - doubt it - you could've passed it off as being drunk," Neha suggests, fiddling with her phone and pouting coyly as you choose your response.

 When you don't reply, her eyes flicker with a sudden thought.

 "I've got to say though, he wasn't happy with Billy," Neha points out, sounding in awe. You look at her with vague interest. "He said it was horrible of him to get you that drunk."

 "Yeah, I don't get that," you say shortly.

 "He was just looking out for you, I guess. Because, you know...he likes you and stuff." Neha gives you a wide-eyed look, pursing her lips to hide the smile, and you nudge her, turning away and watching the people milling around.

 "No. Just like he said, we agreed to be friends," you say in a deep breath, yawning. You feel more than a fraction better than you did this morning but you still feel like you're trudging through mud, both physically and mentally.

 "One step closer..." Neha mutters before the conversation is effectively broken up by Harry coming over to complain that you have all the time in the world to chat once your shift is finished.

Does anyone have any ideas/suggestions for any other stories to write (in general)??