Newsies One Shots and Preferences

Not Worth It

Word Count: 687

The credits of the movie are going but Albert and you show no interest in moving from this exact spot. Our legs are tangled together with a blanket clumsily thrown over them, and your head is bobbing up and down with the rising and falling of Alberts chest. The more you focus on his heartbeat the less of the commotion I can hear from the other rooms. Albert lives with a handful of his friends and it is usually amazing, but sometimes in moments like these, we wish we are alone. Even with your zoned in mind on Albert's heartbeat sometimes the reality of the situation cannot help but slip in.

A slew of incomprehensible words screamed at a high volume makes its way through the thin walls of the apartment. Race is obviously upset about something but we both remain stagnant hoping the moment will pass soon enough, and it does. This time, however, it is replaced by missing leftovers. Romeo's missing leftovers is going to be the next Sherlock episode based on how vocal everyone is because of it.

A shift in your position is brought up by Albert moving to presumably get up. The warmth we once shared is fleeting and I am not about to let the moment end because of some leftovers.

"Come on, they'll figure it out," you say grabbing on to his arm that was about to remove the blanket.

He starts to lay back down, moving the arm you once held around your frame. Soon enough we are in a different position with our bodies laying on their side, and our limbs tangling together. Both of your hands are on either side of Albert's head twirling the ends of his ginger hair around your fingertips. This would be an easy position to just ease into sleep if the loud arguing in the kitchen would have stopped. You can feel Albert start to shift again but he does not get up, he only moves the blanket over our heads.

"Maybe this will help block out the sound more," Albert says, in a groggy voice, obviously wanting to sleep as much as you do.

You could not help but let out a low chuckle to his response.

Once we resituate ourselves, so our heads are no longer covered by a blanket you hear someone walk through the living room towards the kitchen. The arguing as since dialed down but as shifted to a Davey talks about philosophy and Race challenges all of his ideas. These arguments are always in good fun and are quite entertaining to watch, however, right now all you want to do is cuddle in silence. For a while, you can blissfully ignore the bickering happening in the other room, but over time it is undeniable.

You are determined to ignore this fight out of existence. Your head begins to nuzzle its way under Albert's chin to find a new warmth. This boy is a space heater. Even so, just because we are cuddling does not mean the world stops.

Acceptance is the last stage of grief and is also the last conclusion you come to. Removing your head from the nook of Albert's neck I begin to lean in as he does the same. My ease shut as the closeness between us is unbearable. The sound of glass shattering takes over the room and my eyes shoot open and you push yourself away from Albert as a reflex. This causes you to fall off the couch on to the hardwood floors, which also causes Albert to fall into a pit of laughter.

You finally cave in and stand up, Albert follows suit and you guys make your way into the kitchen. The silence you were once yearning for as arrived but in the worst way possible. All of the boys are just looking at each other and then glancing at the once whole bowl, which now is in a little less than a million pieces.

Within all of this silence, all that happens is Albert, leans over and whispers, "Thank you for not letting me get involved".