Spotted (The Spot x Reader)

Ch 8 - The Date

"I really don't buy that you're that kind of guy, and if you are, why do you want to hang out with me?" (Y/N) pleaded, grabbing Johnathon's hand as he stood up from the table. "You have to understand." She mumbled and glanced around the restaurant; people were looking at them. To be fair, they were starting to make a scene.

"There's a hole inside me," he whispered and glanced around. "I want you to fill it, but I can't just blindly believe everything you're telling me.". He pulled his hand away and turned away from her, heading for the door. He looked back wistfully. "You sound insane.".

(Y/N) groaned and threw some cash on the table; he was her destiny, and she wasn't about to just let him walk out on her. She reached for his arm, pulling him back to her. "Let me explain."

He narrowed his eyes at her and stopped, nodding and ushering her out of the restaurant.

Wait, wait, wait. This is intense, but you all need some context. Let's run it back a few hours.

A pounding in her head, a rush of blood to her face, sweat glistening on her forehead. (Y/N) opened her eyes cautiously to a room... she did not recognize. What? She paused, closing her eyes and opening them again after a few minutes. Perhaps she was still dreaming? Nope. Unfamiliar room. Okay, fight or flight; depending on who was here with her, she could maybe fight them off. A cold breeze caused the hairs on her arms to stand up. Oh. She was also in her underwear.

Sitting up abruptly in the bed and observing her surroundings, okay, exit there (window) and there (door). 'Where are my clothes?' the thought crossed her mind along with the icy chill of fear that came with being in an unfamiliar place. Her breathing had quickened, and she could feel her pulse in her ears; pure fear was running through her body. The room was dark, but as she swung her legs over the edge (to run), a stirring stopped her. A familiar smell heated the icy, scared blood that ran through her. John was sleeping on an ottoman at the end of the bed. On closer inspection, it seemed closer to a... trunk with a blanket thrown over it. Either way, his limbs hung loosely over the edges, long and gangly; he didn't look comfortable.

(Y/N)'s feet touched the soft rug, microfibers sticking up in between her toes, feeling like a prickly velvet. She slowly and carefully walked around the bed, kneeling at his side. His unruly chocolate locks curled around his ears, framing his face and moving with every shallow breath. He looked so peaceful, so vulnerable. She brushed his chestnut hair out of his eyes, his soft breathing like a comfort to her.

He was a comfort to her.

A flash of pain rang through her ears as memories from the night before came flooding back to her. Oh. That was something that did indeed happen. The underwear and everything, yup yup.

She covered her face with her hands, screaming silently in embarrassment, and slowly stood up. She padded over to the pile of clothes on the floor, hoping to find her office clothes. Alas, all that remained was her hospital gown and Johnathon's clothes. She groaned under her breath and pulled out his top drawer, revealing clean underwear and socks.

Taking a pair of his black briefs, (Y/N) let her own underwear fall to the floor and slipped on. The briefs hugged her legs, fitting snugly. The hospital had made her feel disgusting; clean underwear was a good start to feeling clean again. She removed her bra, letting that fall to the floor too. Johnathon stirred behind her, in his sleep, not remembering he's not actually in bed, tumbling off the chest (haha) and onto the floor with a yelp. He rubbed his eyes, squinting at the person-shaped blob in his room. He cleared his throat, causing her to turn and stand fully bare in front of him. "Johnathon..." she whispered, her face heating up slowly.

He gulped and shut his eyes, not that he could see anyway. "C-can..." he gulped, "can you help me find my glasses?" He mumbled, raking his eyes over her blurry, mostly nude form. (Y/N) nodded, parting her lips softly and exhaling. Now was the time she had to make a decision—the decision to acknowledge their status as soul mates and change everything or put some clothes on and ignore their cosmic connection.