Mr. Murphy's Mattress

xviii. Live A Little

⚠️ Smut scene included

After the college year ended, Cillian resigned and rented a small motel room for a month as you settled in with Nia.

She was starting to learn her first words, she'd came so close to saying "Dada" so many times that you had to resist the urge of pulling out your phone to record her any time she babbled.

During that time, Cillian spent most of his days writing and trying to get his work published, and it was pretty hard at first.

The first night you arrived to the motel, you couldn't sleep, even with Cillian holding you.

"I wanna go back," you whispered, your back to Cillian as he spooned you.

"I know, honey," he whispered, obviously half-asleep.

"It's hot in here," you said, sitting up, but Cillian grabbed your knee and looked up at you.

"Where are you going?" He asked, laying his head on your lap.

"Nowhere," you whispered, beginning to play with his hair. "Sometimes I just think like, is this what I really want?"

Cillian sat up next to you and put his arm around your waist. "Like with me?"

"All of this," you answered, looking at him. Instantly, your heart melted seeing his features up close in the dim lighting.

"Y/N, is this you saying you're falling out of love with me?"

"God no," you whisper-shouted, but Cillian instantly noticed the tears swelling in your eyes.

"Don't lie to me," he said sternly but quietly, his blue eyes piercing through you.

"No, it's just," you started, choking on your words from the tears building up. Cillian wrapped his arms around you and you buried your face in his shoulder. "I'm homesick."

"I know," he whispered, planting a soft kiss on the top of your head. "You're scared, and that's okay. Life is scary, and you're growing up fast."

"Really fast," you said, your voice trembling. "I just miss my parents."

"They don't deserve your energy if they won't put in the energy for being proud of you," Cillian explained, rubbing your side slowly.

"I wish they were proud of me."

"Let's go to bed," he whispered, looking down at you. "C'mon."

-

The next day,  Cillian had been writing all day long that you didn't remember him even looking up at you throughout his work day.

He just wrote and wrote while you watched and took care of Nia, occasionally massaging Cillian's head.

That night, however, Cillian decided he'd stop at around 6 PM to watch the football game, which honestly disappointed you, but you let him do what he wanted since he was working hard.

"How was work?" You asked, rubbing your thumbs into his shoulders as he observed the game.

"Good... oh, come on. Another fucking free kick?" Cillian sighed and threw his hands up. "Fucking Manchester."

You stopped massaging him and leaned on the back of his shoulder, squeezing his arm for maybe some attention, but he was too focused on the game.

Cillian clutched the couch as the opponent prepared for the free kick, and he hit it right in the goal.

"How?" Cillian shouted, standing up and slamming his hand on the table. "How?!"

"Babe," you whispered, smiling awkwardly. "It's just a game, now sit—"