Ace x reader idk

III - Awake.

I couldn't help but panic as I see him move. My brain starts running a mile a minute, and my anxiety berates me with questions like 'what is he gonna do?' and 'who did I just let into my house?' and 'what is he capable of?'

I attempt to recollect myself and prepare. It was too late to turn back now, and I just had to accept the possible outcomes and probable consequences. Slowly but surely, he opened his eyes. Brownish green—Hazel eyes revealed themselves, and to me for the first time in our current violent history.

"Oh! you're Awake!" I spoke as if I were shocked, my voice going up a pitch higher than it was naturally. He flinches from the words, and this makes me flinch as well. His head must've hurt, especially after the compact he had taken. His eyes travel from me, to the rag I previously held up to his face, and finally, to the rest of my house.

"What in the name a'..." He speaks rather loudly, his scratchy Jersey accent causing me to flinch again. His eyebrows furrow shortly afterwards, and his face twisted into a bit of a pained expression. He tries again, this time lower and more cautious. "Where am I..?"

"Y-you're in my house." I stutter over my words. While I speak, I realize this is my first real interaction with someone else since I moved here. "You were uh...Injured. I thought I should help."

"Huh." He puts on what I assume is his thinking face. After knowing where he was, he seemed less distraught, and maybe even a bit careless. He was awake now, so I know that I could help better. He knew his own body better than I...wanted to.

"I never got to use a lot of the medication though. I was gonna—uhh.." This was a lot more awkward, now that he was awake. My eyes refuse to meet with his, but I continue. "What areas do you feel pain in?" My hand still held the rag close to him, and he peers over to it again.

"I feel a bruiser or two on my back, uhh..if ya wanna help with that." I nod. He sits up straight, his head tilted to glance at me with an unreadable expression. I press the rag gently onto his back. He winces as I add pressure to the painful looking wound, which makes me stop a few times until eventually I found a pressure that was comfortable enough for him.

After cleaning the bruise, I press a few drops of medication on the tip of my finger, gently applied it, and assumed it would be safe to put a medium-sized ace bandage over it.

"There you go," I sighed out quietly. There was another awkward silence. "I— um..sorry for randomly dragging you to my house."

"Aye, no problem, hun . This ain't the first time this kinda thing went down." I raise an eyebrow. For a second I even wondered if he threw himself in front of cars for fun.

"Do you...like tea?" I flash an awkward smile at him, and he seems to think the question over. It didn't really seem like answering a question like that needed so much thought. I wonder what he was thinking.

Eventually he glances at me and shrugs. "Eh, why not?" I give him a slightly less awkward smile than before in exchange for a his toothy grin.

When I walk into the kitchen, half of my things were organized and set away, while the rest sat in storage boxes in the corner. Since I drink tea on an almost daily basis, my kettle was sitting propped above my counter. I fill the kettle with lukewarm water, and set the stove to a medium heat.

I decide to make conversation with the green man while the tea is boiling. I make my way through the dining room once more and in the kitchen, and at first I don't see him. "Hello..?" I nearly assumed at this point he had just left. Then I heard light footsteps above my head, upstairs. Last time I checked, I didn't have any pets yet.

I figured I should investigate. I'm not particularly sure why I'd let an assumable 'bad guy' into my house, or at least not unsupervised. I could feel a twinge of frustration bellowing in my stomach as I climbed the stairs. My room door was open, another reason to be suspicious since I close all the doors in my house before I leave for work (I'm a bit obsessive-compulsive).

When I opened the door, my eyes fixed themselves to the legs shuffling underneath my bed. There were scattered items by his feet that had been pulled from under it, as he continued scouring.

I knew it.