hobo heart x reader. Perhaps we value each other?

Chapter 15

The wind in the woods didn't just lift me; it erased the ground entirely. I wasn't just running anymore—I was flying. Higher and faster, piercing through the canopy until the trees gave way to clouds, and the clouds surrendered to the raw, open sky. Below me, the Earth shrank into a cosmic afterthought. I reached out and scooped it up like a stray marble. It felt impossibly cool against my palm, a heavy hum of pure power vibrating through my skin. I held everything—every life, every ocean—in a single fist. I could have crushed it easily.

"Molly."

The voice sliced through the stellar silence. I spun around, but the void of stars offered no answers.

"Molly?"

It came from directly in front of me now, echoic and urgent, vibrating against the starlight.

"MOLLY, WAKE UP!"

I bolted upright, my forehead missing Hobo Heart's face by a fraction of an inch.

"Shit!" He stumbled backward, clapping a hand over his face. "What are you trying to do, break my nose?"

I glared at him, the residual awe of the cosmos souring into immediate irritation. "I was kind of wishing I did. Then maybe you'd leave."

He waved a hand experimentally in front of my face. I slapped it away. "Wait. You can see again?"

"No shit, Sherlock." I swung my legs out of bed and stood up, stretching my muscles until they popped.

"How?" He shifted his weight, burying his hands into his pockets as he watched me. "Didn't you get infected with bad blood or something?"

"Jason fixed me up. I'm not sure how, though." I turned toward him, squared my shoulders, and threw a clean, heavy punch straight into his face. His nose cracked under my knuckles.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" he howled, cupping his face as blood welled between his fingers. "The hell is WRONG with you?!"

"YOU are what's wrong with me! I don't have a fucking heart because of you!" I roared, the anger tearing out of my chest. I let out a heavy breath and crossed my arms, my vision tracking the dark crimson leaking through his fingers. "Besides, my white room needed color." I leaned down, trying to look closely at his nose. "Is it broke?"

He groaned, testing his jaw. Blood splattered onto the floorboards. "I don't think so."

"Damn," I chuckled, a dark, sudden amusement bubbling up. "I'll have to hit you harder next time."

"Bitch!" He lunged forward and shoved my shoulder, leaving a smear of red across my shirt and making me stumble.

"Ass Hat!" I shoved him right back, causing him to stagger against the wall.

"IDIOT!" he yelled.

"IMITATION CHICKEN!" I hollered back.

The room went dead silent. Hobo Heart froze, his bloodied face twisting into pure, unadulterated confusion. "You... what?"

The adrenaline vanished, leaving my cheeks flushing hot. I looked away, staring intensely at the floor. "Shut up."

He tried to stifle a laugh, but it erupted into a breathless, wheezing burst. The force of it sent a fine spray of blood splatter everywhere. I tried to hold out, but the sheer absurdity of the phrase broke me. Soon, we were both leaning against the furniture, breathless and completely hysterical, a bloody, laughing mess.

"Wh-what the hell is an imitation chicken?!" he gasped, clutching his ribs."I don't fucking know! It just came out!" I wheezed, trying to breathe.

Suddenly, a knock rattled the wood, and Marcy walked in. "What is taking so long to—" She stopped dead in her tracks, her gaze sweeping over the crimson-stained walls and the two of us. "What the fuck is happening?"