Drawn Together (Bendy x Female Reader) {DISCONTINUED}

Play the Fool - Chapter 17

Your blackened vision dimmed to a sapid, soothing tang of bacon that teemed the room and made your nares splay to catch a deep whiff. You opened your eyes wide, only to find yourself in your poorly lit living room and all propped up comfortably on the couch where that remarkable cartoon slept; all sheathed up cozily in his comforter. You blank your eyes a few times and glanced over towards the window, only to see a purpling azure through the cracks of your curtains. It made you wonder what the actual time was so you tried sitting yourself up and reached out for the lamp next to you to make things easier to see. The light stung a little but you immediately grew used to it and then you tried to read your wristwatch but since you never really looked at it since the day Bendy almost made you late for work, all that ink from that adventure got to it and ruined it. At first you figured that the ink was only on the exterior and dried up on the dial window so you kept on trying to scratch it off but it was ineffective. You held it up to your ear to listen to its ticking heartbeat but not a single sign of life for it made clear. You sighed and flopped your arms idly against your lap, noticing your filthy hands and sleeves, realizing that you were still in your ruined clothes. Thank goodness that ambrosial smell of bacon soup flooded the area, otherwise you would've reeked the whole place of that cursed, uncouthly studio. You lifted up the blanket and withered at your full outfit and your huge, bandaged leg wound. It's gonna be a challenge to have a shower tonight, you just scowled at the thought of how much it would be a pain to scrub all that dried ink out from your hair; you might be just better off cutting it all off. You slid your legs off to the side of the couch, positioning to get up which made you feel nervous about your body handling movement. Your muscles felt stiff and weak, you could only imagine corroded rust around your joints but everything else still felt light. You pushed yourself up and it took a minute to settle your balance and ease yourself to stand straight. Your feet, especially your heels hurt but at least when Bendy put you up on the couch, he took your shoes off but would that matter, really?

With a falter, you limped your way down the hallway that gradually lightened up. That recognizable sound of a liquid boiling became audible, no doubt that had to be bacon soup on the stove again. You knew it was for you and least sanitary thing you can do before it was wash your hands. You quickly stopped by into the washroom without flicking the light on and just used what little of the hallway light shedded in, pulled up your sleeves and washed your hands. You were nervy and tentative to take in the sights at how much of a wreck you are in the mirror but your stomach grouching and cramping was more of a precedence than withering at your appearance that you had no control of. Even with what little light you had, you could see the all that cloudy murk you scrubbed hard off your hands vortex into the drain below, still it was gross but you managed to get your hands seemingly spotless. You dried your hands off with a drying cloth and re-entered the hall. Your eyes darted up at the wall, spotting your hallway clock. You weren't too surprised to find out it was only half past eight, but still it was late. Did you really sleep that long? Then again, you didn't check the time when you arrived home either. As you staggeringly ambled down more, the first few objects you've spotted in your kitchen was your wooden table with a couple of cartoon gloves piled over each other next to where Bendy would usually sit but one of the four chairs–the one furthest to the kitchen was missing. You limped closer, hearing the sounds of a spoon being scraped against a saucepan as well as a soft, familiar humming that sounded overjoyed. You supportingly and curiously leaned against the wall, peering over the corner and saw the little devil himself standing up over a chair to mimic your height pouring a small bowl of heated soup for you. You couldn't help but just smile in endearment as your mouth hungrily fills up with saliva. That was very thoughtful and clever of him. However, that delighted countenance of yours immediately unwounded into shock. Spotted further down on the counter was a little plate with a humorously giant stacked sandwich that was almost the same height as the demon himself made up with whatever he could scavenge out from your fridge like salami, cheddar cheese slices and etcetera along with a couple of green olives skewed in a toothpick to top it all off; a classic Dagwood sandwich. He probably used the whole entire loaf too! You didn't know what to say or even think about that but you couldn't get mad at him just for that, especially from coming back from a crazy trip like that and with all the kind things he's been doing lately. You have to keep in mind too that he's still adapting to this world so a gentle reasoning will have to do when he brings it to the table. In lieu, you just sighed and shook your head graciously; repressing that urge to giggle. After the cartoon finished sharing out your food, he carefully put the pot and picked up the piping hot bowl just to place it on the chair so he can get down without burning himself. You noticed a small twist of disgust on his face when he picked up the soup again. As he walked over, he stopped with a slight spring back of surprise that luckily didn't make him spill your meal a little.