little fears // Shourtney bits & pieces

5. come what come may, time and the hour runs through the roughest day

Courtney waited for Shayne's alarm clock to ring, as always, at 6 sharp. Having awoken 20 minutes earlier, she stared at it in the darkness, counting seconds and minutes along with the display. Shayne's arm was embracing her tightly. She could hear his even, peaceful breathing, the very reason she'd decided not to wake him too early. He deserved some more untroubled rest.

Her heart was beating fast, mind thinking ahead against her will. It'll be over in a couple hours, she firmly said to herself. But the closer the confrontation got, the less sure she was of Ian's good intentions. This was a major complication, a force that could potentially harm Smosh. Even if he was happy on a personal level, he may have to play the boss and do what was right for the channel. She liked to assume firing them was too harsh, especially since they didn't technically break any contract, but then again — some unwritten rules seemed to be in place anyway, somehow still lingering in everyone's consciousness despite Defy being long gone.

The alarm rang and Shayne stirred.

"I'll get it, don't worry," she said at once, reaching out to punch the clock.

"Were you awake already?" he mumbled, pulling her back under the covers.

"Yeah, been for a while," she whispered, and let her hand sneak around his waist. "It'll be fine. It has to be. Right?"

"Well, the way I see it," Shayne said, his voice still groggy and hoarse from sleep, but somehow also cheerful, "even if Ian goes berserk, I'll say it was still worth it." She smiled, feeling the anxiety slowly evaporating from her body. He stroked a loose strand of her hair and tucked it behind her ear. "Hey."

"Hey, yourself."

"D'you wanna get up?"

"Not really," she sighed. "I slept like a baby. Your mattress is fucking incredible, dude."

"I know. How's the pillow, though?"

Her head was currently lying on his chest, so she snorted with laughter. "A bit dense."

"Good. Just as intend—oh, wait." He hopped out of the bed all of a sudden, which caused Courtney's head to hang mid-air.

"What the hell?" she asked, confused.

"Just remembered there's pad thai in the fridge," Shayne yelled, already out of the room, "and I need it right this second."

When he came back with a huge bowl of food in one hand and two forks in the other, Courtney was sitting on the bed cross-legged, a lazy smile plastered to her face.

"You deprived me of my new favorite pillow," she accused him, throwing an actual pillow into his stomach. "That's a grave offense."

Shayne, who barely managed to maneuver the bowl out of the way of the pillow, winced and said, "You've just almost deprived me of pad thai, so I guess we're even?"

She scrambled to him when he sat on the bed, having set the bowl securely on the bedside table. "You're lucky you're cute," she whispered, lips very close to his face, "and I can't stay mad at cute bois."

"Ian said eight sharp," Shayne breathed out weakly against her mouth. He inhaled sharply when she straddled him.

"We'll be a tiny bit late, then."

*

There was a sheet of paper taped to the back entrance of Mythical that Smosh employees usually used. It was a handwritten message, addressed specifically to them.