Professional Peefer

probablythevaria:

((Oof, I need to lay off the video games and get back to writing lmao ♥ ))

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He could still see it, the dark ichor forming out the back of a wound swollen behind layers of poor care and suturing. A hasty job tossed together just to drop you off in the midst of the battle. And for what? Another grazed bullet hole? 

Another aggressive bout of maniacal coughing fits and gagged clots of your own blood Xanxus could taste on your lips when he once swore it would be goodbye. 

“I see that look,” You muttered with agitation, the strain of your side leaving a hollow cry hanging on your tongue as you forced it into the back of your throat. “You don’t need to pity me.”

“I ain’t pitying you.” That was the truth he spat out, grumbling to himself as his body seated itself by your recovering shape in the bed. You weren’t supposed to walk, but he knew you did. Saw the shuffling steps toward the door where the unsettled dust left trails from inactivity there. 

It wasn’t like anyone here was paid to keep the place entirely clean. 

“No, you’re just moping because I have a carved out hole in my chest and side,” You knew how to win a fight even if it ripped him out of his grumpy world and into one that tunneled him further into anger. “Because you think that by leaving me out of the fight I would have escaped without this- “

You had opened your garb to him, yanking aside the dark cloth where the aging stitches had faded into scarred, pale flesh he touched with feathery interest. Remorse, as it were. And Xanxus flinched. 

“I could have taken that bullet.” 

“And I took it for you.” You argued fervently, smirking proudly as you stroked the wound with a glimmer of excitement. “And I would do it again too.”