Loving You Black & Blue | Miguel O'Hara x Felicia Hardy

Ch. 15: Twisted Like Me

[Nueva York - Earth 928]

Some mornings, Miguel woke up in a cold sweat wondering if it was all going to disappear. That he would open his eyes and Felicia would not be sleeping soundly in bed next to him. He'd wake to find her still frail and fighting for her life in that operating room, or drowning in a pool of her own blood in that fucking alley. Or worse she'd be a phantom, a fantasy he'd dared to dream up. In his worst nightmares, he could see Felicia sprinting across rooftops – like the night he had first seen her – only to be swallowed up in a merciless unraveling of the universe.

Oddly enough, the farther along she got in her recovery the more frantic he felt. When the doctors had checked her bandages at her last appointment and, as promised, the pale flesh of her stomach was smooth and perfect – no trace of the lycan claws that had almost killed her – Miguel found his guilt renewed. His guilt and his fear.

The next time will kill me. I can't survive that again, after Gabi...

The sound of the coffee pot brewing downstairs interrupted his thoughts. As if on command Felicia stirred in bed next to him, turning over and sleepily draping her arm over his stomach. Miguel had been forcing her to wear one of his t-shirts to help them both stave off temptation while she healed (her preferred pajamas were none at all) – it was not helping much this morning. It had been three weeks of "no jostling" – as the nurse had so gently put it.

Raging libido aside, Miguel was in the seventh heaven having Felicia in his home. Of course, Miguel had stayed at Felicia's apartment many times – so waking up together and the mundane rhythm of living weren't exactly new. But, he couldn't deny that having her in his space made him see this apartment in a whole new light. If Miguel was brutally honest with himself, the idea of capturing her within these walls was a powerful temptation. Not that she would, in a million years, ever settle in one place. Of that, he was absolutely certain.

"Miguel?" Felicia woke with a yawn, rubbing his chest sweetly, "How long have you been awake?"

"Awhile," he answered quietly.

"Is that coffee?"

Miguel smirked. He'd never confess to it, but prepping the coffee pot for Felicia had become something essential to his routine. "It is. Want a cup?"

Felicia nodded, her eyes already drifting closed again. She was most definitely not a morning person. Miguel stroked her hair absently as he rose out of bed, indulging in a stretch before he made his way downstairs. He grabbed the mug that he'd identified as Felicia's favorite (a gag gift from the last Spider Society holiday party that read "World's Greatest Brain") and added just a pinch of protein powder to the drink – his small way of making sure her body had everything it needed to heal.

"So... where exactly do my parents and coworkers think I am?" Felicia's voice called from upstairs, "You've been extremely withholding, big guy."

Miguel grinned slyly down at the cup of coffee he was stirring, "You've been sleeping too much to ask questions. I haven't hidden anything from you." He made his way back upstairs, addressing her again when he entered their bedroom, "As far as your loved ones know, you were feeling burned out and have booked an unplugged retreat in California to recharge."

Felicia scowled, accepting the mug, "And Anastasia Hardy bought that?"

"LYLA may have planted with a few select friends of yours that you were actually hiding out in Mexico with a mystery man." Miguel grinned devilishly.

"Smart move. I'm impressed." Felicia raised an eyebrow conspiratorially, drinking deeply of the brew.

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