𝐰𝐨𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 // 𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐱𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞𝐫

𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐬

prompt: wednesday is editing her book when something goes wrong. (great description, i know.)

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wednesday pov

I typed on my typewriter, my fingers effortlessly gliding over the keys like they had a mind of their own. It almost made me smile, the familiar feeling of this peacefulness that was my writing time.

I reviewed what I had written. My book was almost done, one of the final chapters being on the research Tyler and I had collected over the course of his recovery, explaining our new discoveries on his inner hyde and how to control it.

Somewhere along the way, he had asked me out, again, and I agreed.

It's been a few months since then, and I've been... happy.

Distracted by my inner monologue, I pulled the paper out of the typewriter, not paying enough attention to be careful. I didn't flinch when the inked paper slid against my finger, slicing it open. It wasn't a large cut, only a centimeter or two long, and I hummed as I inspected it.

"You okay?" Tyler asked.

I turned my head to look at my boyfriend. I had forgotten he was there.

"I'm fine," I said, looking back to my finger that was now dashed with a color other than black.

The papercut was starting to sting pretty badly, not that I would ever admit, though I didn't mind it. I put my finger in my mouth to lick the blood away with my tongue.

"Did you cut yourself?" he asked.

I nodded my head, and he jumped off my bed and was by my side within two seconds.

"Let me see."

He softly grabbed my wrist and pulled my hand away from my mouth and closer to his face. The loss of pressure made the cut bleed more, and it started to slowly drip down my finger.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, concerned, his face mere inches away from mine. He reached over and grabbed a tissue, starting to wipe away the blood, a concentrated look on his face.

I smiled at his actions, nodding as he looked back up at me. He smiled in return, quickly shifting into a smirk.

"Do you want me to kiss it to make it feel better?"

I almost puked at the sickly sweet question, but remained smiling and nodding anyways.

He wrapped my finger in a bandaid before leaning down and sweetly giving it a kiss, and, kill me for saying it, it didn't hurt as much as before.

He looked at me once more, a grin on his face and a signature smirk on mine.

"Thank you," I said softly.

He responded by leaning in for a kiss. It was short and sweet, and when we pulled away, I had a bigger smile on my face.

"Thanks for letting me take care of you."

"Don't get used to it."

He chuckled, and I grinned.

This boy was going to be the death of me.

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short and sweet

♡