Dark (wedler)

we are not friends.

After that brief encounter Tyler had completely fallen into Morpheus' arms, drifting in and out of sleep throughout those past two days.

It felt comforting, he could sometimes feel Wednesday's cold hands examining he's wounds, most of which she had procured him herself. But he didn't mind. He was happy she had finally forgiven him, or at least that's what he was hoping.

Wednesday had plenty of time to catch up on her writing, Tyler's heavy breathing and, sometimes, snoring, unexpectedly didn't bother her at all, rather, they helped her concentrate better.

She had definitely not forgiven him for his sins, yet, but she had enough time to ravish every library, physical and digital, and find every single piece of information existing on the Hydes. She did believe that it wasn't all him, but it still was some small part of him, and that she couldn't forgive.

Nonetheless she wasn't about to let him die for his Master's sins, so she kept him well fed and tended to his wounds, hoping he would be too tired to realize how ridiculous she was acting around him.

Wednesday couldn't stop her own gaze from constantly drifting towards the peaceful body that was laying vertically on her bed.

She just did it again.

His brown locks were messy and frizzy, and a section of hair constantly kept falling down on his face, bothering his sleep... this is what, at least, Wednesday could understand from the frown forming on his forehead.

His lips were slightly parted, letting hot air in and out, occasional moving that damned lock of hair.
He moved his hand, placing it under his head, and he twisted his body to the side, now, completely, facing the girl, who felt as she was almost caught committing a crime.

In doing that motion, he managed to make the quilt, that was covering him, slid over, uncovering his torso completely. Xavier had been a good friend by lending her some of his clothes, even though the both weren't sure those would fit him, but nonetheless she felt as it would be a complete violation to dress him without him being awake, so she threw a big warm quilt over him and hoped for the best.

Wednesday scoffed, rolling up her eyes, and hoping Thing would not judge her for the completely good-wifey behavior she was about to demonstrate, and had been doing so for the past few days for that matter.

On the other hand, what was she supposed to do? The men was basically unconscious, she did hate him but not to the point to be responsible for him freezing to death.

She got up, and reached for the blanket that had fallen over, repositioning it to cover the boy's body completely, and tucking it on the sides so he wouldn't feel cold. As she was doing so she found herself extremely close to him, and, once again, she lingered with her eyes, examining his facial expressions; she moved her hand closer, removing that problematic strand of hair from his face, and as she did, his eyes slowly parted, revealing two dark emeralds staring back at her.

"Good morning beautiful" - he said, voice hoarser than ever and one of his usual half- smiles on.

That was it.
Someone give this girl a pair of wings cause she was ready to jump of the roof.
She had been caught red handed, more so than ever.

She blinked, pushing aside her embarrassment, and she quickly recollected herself, showing absolutely nothing of what was going on inside her head.

"Don't call me that" Wednesday told him, an expression of pure disgust on her face.

As she stood up, straightening her back, she turned her back on him, hoping she could reach her seat, near her desk, where it was far enough from him to allow her to quit making a fool of herself.