What I own: Two pens with feathers randomly attached to them, four pink journals and five phone chargers.
What I don't: Rookie Blue. Nope, not mine. I just play in that sandbox.
Author's Note: Well, this happened. I have no idea why and I am still not sure if I like it, but I am at work, sick and miserable and the song came on and it just… did. McCollins, y'all, as this fic is always. Unbeta'd because that is just how I am. Reviews make me smile like Missy in Maui and are rewarded with babble and love. Constructive criticism is more than welcome but just general meanness is unnecessary. I understand that an AU fic may not be everyone's cup of vodka, and that is okay. Just don't read it. The song for this chapter is 'Falling In Love Will Kill you' by Wrongchilde ft. Gerard Way. It gives me feels. Enjoy y'all.
The knock didn't startle me, not really, although it probably should have.
It was late, the clock above the black TV read 1:34 and I wasn't expecting anyone. The music was low, almost hypnotizing and a hastily tossed aside worn copy of 'Anne of Green Gables' sat beside a mostly untouched glass of Moscato and a long since empty plate on the low coffee table.
I knew who it was already, without having to look, although I did anyway, call it habit, I guess. There was really only one person these days who showed up at this hour, although the reasons were never the same.
Pulling the door open, I stepped back to allow him in, as had become our custom. He walked in, head down and I paused after the door snicked shut. Something was… off. I couldn't put my finger on it, not quite yet.
Shoes were toed off and black leather hung absently on the coat rack, all without a word.
I didn't push, wouldn't, not now. The last six months had been a whirlwind of emotions, spanning the gamut from grief to elation, all of which we had somehow dealt with together during stolen moments and the easy solace that had somehow developed between us.
Not bothering to ask, I padded into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge, setting it down before plopping on the couch beside him, my legs tucked beneath me as rested a hand on his arm.
The movement was gentle, but his head snapped up and I met his eyes and gasped. The pain that I saw there, the hurt that was etched on his face had my own heart skipping a beat and I struggled for a moment to find my words, my throat gone dry.
"Tell me?" My voice cracked as the words slipped from my lips and mind raced with possibilities, each one worse than the next, all centered around familiar loved faces and a myriad of tragedies that could have taken place.
"It's not- everything's okay. It was just a really bad day. Really bad." His voice was so tired, almost defeated; it physically hurt to hear it. Not thinking, I gave him a gentle pull, sliding towards the end of the couch just a bit and resting his head on my lap. He didn't protest, and sighed softly as I gently ran my fingers through his short hair and his hand rested on my bare knee.
We sat there, quietly just taking comfort in each other's presence, the comfort and trust that had developed having long since eased any possible awkwardness that may have arisen had it been anyone else.
He was asleep quickly and I couldn't help but smile as I glanced down at his face. His features had softened with sleep, the pain melting away and just a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his lips as he dreamed of who knows what, and he looked younger, nearly boyish in the dim lamplight as he whispered my name in his sleep.
I knew, in that moment, with just one barely audible word that there was no turning back from this, not that I knew exactly what this WAS, but in that second I didn't need to.
I was falling in love.