An Ocean Away (Mullette- Laff x Herc)

Box up your feelings

-Herc POV-

Laff- Laff hasn't been himself today.

 Last night I had to drag his ass to bed with me from where he was perched ridiculously in his parkour room. Fucking cookies weren't enough bribery to get him off, I had to shoot him in the face a few times until he jumped off and over my head like a petty bitch.

But the gun worked, at least. 

It's nerf or nothing.

This morning still hasn't been much better. The sleep deprived child was unable to sleep for at least half the night which I know because I felt every damn movement. But he still refused to back down and ask for the cuddles he needs on a nightly basis. Lack of cuddles means lack of sleep which means I'm dealing with tired Laffy today.

There's a small -thunk- from beside me, and I peek over the couch to see said Laff lying on the floor. 

"Hercules, What the Actual Fuck? I told you to pick up your damn sewing shit before. Why is it even here in the first place?"

"I needed the space to lie it out! It's a big project and-"

"Herc, you have an entire room for crafting. Keep it in there."

"You didn't seem to have an issue with it when I was working on that dress for you."

He just glares at me from the floor before stumbling up to his feet, not breaking eye contact for a second as I attempt to keep my face at the very least neutral. Frowning feels harsh but smiling is not the right response either, and at least if I stay neutral I won't cry.

"You were doing embroidery while we snuggled! I was sitting in your lap while we watched a movie and kissed and I didn't complain because we were working on it together. And that didn't trip me on a daily basis. This blanket, on the other hand-"

"First off, it's a quilt. And second, if you trip on it so damn much why can't you remember it's there?"

There's a small huff from him as he picks it up, throwing it on top of my face before stalking off somewhere. I ignore him, folding up my beautiful half of a quilt and thanking myself for being lazy today and not putting in the next set of pins.

I ignore him until there's a weight on my lap, anyways.

"You got the box."

"Oui."

I can't remember a time we've actually had to use the damn emotion box. In fact I don't think we ever have had to, it's more of our healthy dispute system of Laff's invention to be used with the minor things or just because we need to sort some emotions out and talking is hard. 

Easy to say things you don't mean in ways you don't mean. At least this way you can look at your words first.

I take the pen Laff offers me, grabbing a sheet off the pad as he hops away and heads to his corner. He's at his corner of the couch, I'm at mine, the box sitting in the middle.

Fucking shit he looks mad.

Laff, I love your snuggles when you hold me and promise me you love me, and I love mornings when I get to watch you cook between kisses and small samples but it's annoying when you take up thirty minutes of the morning either doing makeup, or hogging the bathroom, or hogging the bathroom because you're doing makeup. Love you babe!

Laff, I love getting to wake up in the morning with you in my arms or falling asleep wrapped up in yours. I love how you act like a kid sometimes and have that positive spark, that wonderful spark in you that radiates passion and love in everything you do. But I hate that damn smell of lavender, go back to coconut. And please, don't ignore me when you're mad. Every time you push me away it hurts like hell because I love you and need to know things. Love you babe!