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︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
𝐒𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃
little a/n;
I listened to bags by clario while writing this on loop, so I recommend listening to it. dark red is a good one too. <3
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
It was a regular night, working yourself to the bone in fear of Thomas throwing a tantrum, your hand ready to grab your gun at any point if you heard a footstep you didn't recognise. Your chest ached as your head stressed the possibilities, wondering if you would get home to Polly safely tonight. You were sure you would, but in a Vendetta, you always had to think of the chance that you might not get there.
As thoughts rushed through your mind, you were interrupted by the door creaking open. You hadn't noticed the heels in the hall clicking from how loud your thoughts were. Your heart jumped before you saw Polly, a worried expression clear on her face even though she smiled at you.
"Tommy said you'd be here." She said in a hushed tone, shutting the door behind her. She inspected around your tiny office before her eyes landed on you, her smile turning into a frown when she saw your face.
"Why did you come here? you know it's dangerous, Pol." You spoke, words slurred with exhaustion.
Her posture straightened as she began to make her way around your desk, "Because I was worried about you, and wanted to see you." She responded, her voice slightly dry. She immediately felt bad for her attitude, though. Knowing you were just afraid of her getting hurt.
Her hand fell onto your shoulder, eyes scanning all the papers on your desk. "Are you almost done, love?" She asked, getting her answer by your little 'no' you had muttered. "I see..why don't I stay here until you're done?"
You couldn't reject her offer, quickly lifting your head and nodding. After briefly removing you from your chair, she sat down before swiping you up onto her lap. She noticed your open drawer with your gun clearly ready inside and gently kissed your cheek. Her arms wrapped around your waist as you resumed your work, taking in only you.
The way Polly held you made you feel safe, as if you were so delicate that a single touch could break you. In fact, you could. In terms of your mental and psychic state? She couldn't risk you breaking. Your writing became sloppier and sloppier within minutes due to exhaustion and wrist cramps.
Your eyes were half lidded when her hand went to yours, taking the pen out of it and putting it down. She replaced it with her hand, pressing a kiss below your ear. "I think that's enough for tonight, we should get you home to rest. How does that sound?"
