unrequited ➳ (connor jessup fanfic)

IX

I poke Connor's cheek. He didn't move, so I poke him again.

He scrunched his eyebrows slightly and sighs. "You're going to work, I can sleep in your bed if I want, I should know where the gummy bears are, yeah yeah. Have a nice day, Noelle." He says in his raspy morning voice and covers his face with my Pokémon fleece blanket.

"I was actually, um, going to ask if you wanted to go get breakfast or something but if you don't that's fine." I say sheepishly.

He uncovers his face and opens his eyes. It was dark, so he didn't squint. "What time is it?" He asks. "Around 8am. I don't have to be at work until 9:30." I say, shrugging.

"Thanks for the offer but I think I'll pass."

"Its been almost a month." I point out. "The only time you've left this couch is when I've forced you to eat or shower, Connor." I say, sighing.

"Noelle I ju-"

"Please?" I ask softly.

"Alright, Noelle. Alright." He says, getting up. "I'll be ready in a minute." He says before disappearing into the bathroom.

-

"See? Isn't being in public a lot nicer than laying on a lumpy couch?" I ask sarcastically after the waiter gave us our drinks.

"Maybe it'd be nice if there was strippers."

"Would you like to go to a strip club?"

"Maybe if it was in Vegas."

"You're becoming impossible." I say softly. He sighs and scratches his cheek. His takes a drink of his coffee and ruffles his hair.

"You need a haircut." I point out. It was getting long and more unkempt. It looked like the sex hair of a hobo and don't even get me started in his facial hair.

"No I don't, mom." He argues.

I raise my eyebrow and try ignoring being mom-zoned, "You're starting to look like your sixteen year old self again, just with a beard." I say and he shakes his head frantically and horrified.

"No I absolutely do not, its not that long."

"Yet."

"I'll get one next week."

"You said that last week."

"You're not my mom."

"Speaking of which, why don't we call-"

"Fine, tomorrow." He sighs in defeat.

-

Work was boring, as per usual. Julian and I were ripping old books that were tattered and torn and balling them up, trying to get them into the trash can.

He turned in the rolling chair and threw it with his back to the can, impressively making it.

"Nice." I commented. "Thanks." He says.