Sunflower (Clyde Logan x Reader)

Chapter 7

If yesterday had been tough to spend in close quarters with you, then today was almost impossible. Clyde was thankful that at least after your time together the other day that now you felt comfortable enough leading the conversation and talking to him so he didn't have to ask too many questions today. While he was still interested in what you had to say and eagerly soaked up any information about yourself you willingly gave up, Clyde's traitorous mind wouldn't allow him to pay as well of attention as he would have liked.

After his dream last night he was having a hard time stringing words together in your presence and keeping his thoughts from going down dangerous paths, his mind drifting back to the image of your heels digging into his back, your fingers dancing around the waistband of his pants. While logically he knew it was a dream, it had felt almost real to him and he was itching to feel what it would actually feel like to have your soft lips brush against his, your nails leaving moon shaped marks on his shoulders.

Fuck, he needed to calm down before he came in his pants like a fucking teenager. But you were so gorgeous, even just sitting there shuffling papers around. Your mouth in a concentrated pout as you worked, your hair falling in front of your face in such a way that he had to work hard to resist leaning over and tucking it behind your ear.

And it wasn't just your appearance, though that certainly helped. You were also so kind and inviting, making Clyde feel like he was cared for and wanted even in the short time you had interacted. It made him feel more like a man every time you laughed at his dry humored jokes or when a smile played across those sinful lips at something he said.

"So what kind of drinks do you enjoy?" you asked, your voice breaking Clyde out of his thoughts.

He must have given you a blank look in response because you went on to clarify, "You mentioned you're a bartender. So I was curious about what kind of drinks you like. Like, are you a beer guy or a cocktails man?"

Oh, duh. You daydreaming idiot, he chastised himself before answering, "Ah... I'm a... I guess you could say I'm a cocktails man but I also enjoy whisky or scotch by itself. You?"

You looked down, your cheeks flushing almost imperceptibly as you replied with a laugh, "I don't actually know?"

"Whaddya mean, darlin'?" Clyde asked, the pet name slipping out before he caught it. No taking that back now.

"I just know I like fruity things but I can go for a cider or a cocktail or really anything that doesn't taste too much like alcohol. Do you have any recommendations for me for next time I go out?"

Clyde almost sighed in relief when you didn't shrink back or acknowledge the endearing term, though a part of him wished you had liked it. The other part of him grew envious and jealous with the thought of you going out with some guy who wasn't him. "A sidecar is nice, has lemon and orange in it. Or a mint julep with peach if you're feeling fancy."

You hummed in response, nodding your head. Feeling particularly bold Clyde continued, "Or come visit me at my bar when I'm out and I'll treat you right."

You met his eyes then and Clyde swallowed thickly. In all the time you'd spent together over the past couple of days neither of you had acknowledged the simple fact that Clyde was imprisoned for a length of time, choosing to instead casually talk about your lives as if you were normal folk working together.

"When?" you inquired, clearing your throat before adding, "When do you get out, I mean?"

"A little less than three months now," Clyde answered softly, feeling as if something had changed in the room. Talking and getting to know each other inside the prison's walls was one thing but the possibility of actually getting to be with you outside of this setting, free and able to do what he wanted, the thought was dizzying. The fact that you might follow through and actually come see him once he left here? It made him so happy and anxious that it was almost nauseating.