Come Hell or High Water - Striker x Reader (18+)

112. Respite

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I awoke early the next morning to the daylight shining in my eyes through the bedroom window. When I was finally able to peel my eyes completely open, I saw my lover lying on his back beside me. A small smile tugged at my lips at the sight; he looked so peaceful, with his features totally relaxed and his lids gently closed over those bright yellow eyes. His breathing was a bit better than it was the day before, at least for now.

I reached out and gingerly grazed my knuckles across his cheek, but quickly withdrew my hand when his brows furrowed. His eyes opened slowly, blinking a few times to adjust to the light, and he turned his head to look at me.

I bit my lip. "Sorry," I said. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Striker smiled at me, his hand finding my face and reciprocating the gesture. I leaned into his touch before taking his hand in mine, anchoring it to my cheek.

"How did you sleep?" I asked.

"Better," he answered simply. "Still kept wakin' up, though."

"I heard," I remarked. "Are you hungry? I could whip us up something to eat."

He shook his head. "Nah. T'be honest, I kinda just wanna go back to sleep."

He carefully sat up and shifted to the side of the bed, swinging his legs over the edge and pushing himself to his feet. He walked out of the bedroom to the bathroom, where I heard him use the toilet and let out a few strong, hacking coughs. He returned to the bedroom a few minutes later, a little out of breath, and I patted a spot on the mattress in front of me.

"Come here, honey," I said.

Striker obliged, taking a seat in front of me, and he shifted toward me when I motioned for him to come closer. I snaked my arms around his head and shoulders as I slowly leaned backward on the mattress.

Striker lay over me, my hands gently holding his head to my chest. He turned slightly, making himself comfortable, and moved his head to lightly press his ear to my heart. A long sigh escaped his nose, and he quickly melted into my frame, his hands slithering underneath my shirt and resting on my bare waist.

My fingers brushed and played with his snowy hair, and I eventually heard him let out another sigh in contentment. I smiled at his actions; bending my head down, I brought my lips to the crown of his head just between his horns.

"I love you," he whispered, planting a small kiss on my chest and warming my skin with his breath.

My smile widened, and I tightened my hold on him, wrapping my tail around his backside until it intertwined with his.

"I love you, too."

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"When do you think you'll leave?"

Striker tore his eyes away from his bowl of soup to look at me, swallowing a spoonful. "I was thinkin' in about a month. That'll give me plenty of time to get rid of this bug, and hopefully scrounge up a little more money for supplies."

I pursed my lips, lazily stirring the contents of my bowl. "Would you want me to come with you? If I can convince Stolas to let me borrow an Asmodean crystal again, that is. . ."

"You don't have to darlin'," he responded. "It'll likely take about two days just to get there on horseback—and I doubt there's much left but some half-burnt buildin's and scraps."

"But if I wanted to . . . would you want me to go?"

He paused for a second or two while he thought, then gave a small nod. "Yeah," he answered quietly. "I think so."