The Twin Flame: Grumpy x Sunshine

I Almost Do

"And I just wanna tell you, it takes everything in me not to call you. And I wish I could run to you, and I hope you know that every time I don't, I almost do... "

"You should tell Sam," Joaquin repeats, finishing the last stitch on your arm while desperately trying to school his anxiety-riddled expression. He just couldn't help but wince on your behalf every time he had to force the needle through your skin. "I only have so much first aid training."

"Have I ever told you how much I appreciate your friendship?" you ask, ignoring his question entirely as he clips the last jagged stitch.

He sighs as you finish wrapping the dressing on the top of your arm. He winces at your furrowed face and the sharp inhale as you tighten the dressing. "It's only a matter of time before he realizes there's more than you're letting on. That's if he hasn't already."

"It's just a scratch, Joaquin," you insist, cutting the bandage and laying it taut against your skin. You smooth it over, smiling proudly as though you're good as new. "See? No need to worry, I'm fine."

"And considering that's the fourth time you've said 'I'm fine', I'm kinda starting to question it."

"Really, truly, I am," you chirp, pulling on your sweater to hide the wound and put it out of Joaquin's mind. "Sam'll just freak out and reel me back in."

Even as you start walking away from him and this conversation, he trails you into your room, remembering his promise to Sam to try and get you to talk to him. "When was the last time you talked to him?"

"A few weeks ago," you flippantly respond, heading back to the folders stacked on the small desk in your room.

It was a lie. It'd been months since you'd heard Sam's voice. You didn't even listen to Sam's numerous voicemails anymore. It hurt far too much.

Joaquin walks right on your heels as you cross the threshold into your room.

To Joaquin, it was always a little jarring walking into your room. The only thing that marked this place as your own was the obscene amount of documents stacked on the desk. Your room is bare, cold, void of any personal touches.

All your belongings now fit in a small duffel bag that remains tucked into the corner of your room. You remember Sam offering to replace what you'd lost post-Blip. You declined.

You barely look at Joaquin as your eyes quickly scan through the thick stack of documents. The paper's edges are crumpled and weathered from all the nights spent passing them back and forth and poring over every word and line.

At this point, he's not even sure what you're looking for considering you've gone through those folders so many times before.

"You might want to give him a call, by the way. He asked me about you on the last op."

"Oh, and where did you guys go this time?" you ask, purposefully changing the subject while you continue scanning the documents.

"Tunisia. You should've seen him, it was," Joaquin starts rambling. It's only when he notices the small grin on your face as you continue reading that he realizes how you just completely derailed the conversation. He accusingly narrows his eyes at you, "Hey! You did that on purpose."

"What?" you shrug, ignoring that you definitely just redirected the conversation. "Just making conversation."

"Nice try. Call him. He's worried," Joaquin pointedly adds, lowering the papers from your eye-line so you can see the pleading look on his face.

You sigh, reluctantly nodding as you start pulling on your gear. "Alright, I'll call him."

He excitedly nods, sighing in relief, "Okay, that's good-"