Pin Cushion Heart

Spending The Night

Riff spent the night on my couch. I had offered to let him sleep with me, but he refused. "I don't wanna overstep, yknow?" he said, fluffing a pillow I had given him. The next morning, I woke up before him. I quickly got dressed, walking out of my room and expecting him to be gone. He was still lying on the couch, wrapped in a quilt I had made years ago. His face was peaceful, one arm over his eyes and the other hanging off the couch. I couldn't help but adore him at this moment, calmer than I'd ever seen him. He was always on the move, flitting from one thing to another. Before slipping into the kitchen, I shook myself out of my love-induced trance. I didn't usually make breakfast for two people, but I was lucky enough to have gone to the store a few days before. Bacon and eggs it was. I started my pan of bacon, making about half a pound before starting on the eggs. My mother had taught me to use the grease from the bacon to make the eggs, and I'd cooked that way ever since. I had always enjoyed cooking, using it to forget the stress of work. I was so focused on the food I didn't notice the figure behind me until I felt hands wrap around my waist. "Mornin'," Riff said, resting his head on my shoulder, "did you make breakfast?" he said, reaching for a piece of bacon. I smacked his hand gently, earning a groan. "You can wait. Plates are in that cabinet, set the table." I said, pointing behind me.

After I had finished cooking, I brought the food to the table. I usually didn't have to explain things to Riff, but setting the table would have to be one thing I did. The silverware was mismatched, and my nice plates sat mixed with my cheap ones. "Oh, hon." I said with an exasperated sigh. I took up the plates, placing my usual ones back on the table. I gathered up the silverware, taking a spoon, fork, and knife before handing the rest to Riff. "Look, you put the fork on the left side, and the knife on the right, with the spoon next to it." I said, placing the silverware as I said it. I looked up at him expectantly, earning a confused look back. "What does it matter?" he asked. Fair point. "It doesn't, I guess. Just makes everything feel fancy." I replied. That was enough for him. He started placing things in order as I dished out eggs and bacon. He smiled as he sat down, and I couldn't help but smile back. This was nice. This was really nice.

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He left right after breakfast, and I had my normal shift. I never asked him what he did during the day, I didn't think it was my business to worry. Don't get me wrong, I cared about him, but what he did with the Jets was none of my business. Yet, suddenly, it became my business. At about 9:30, I was sitting at the counter sewing, when a frantic knock sounded at the door. I walked around the counter and opened it to an out-of-breath Riff leaning against the door frame. "Got room for me again tonight?" he said, holding a ripped piece of cloth to his shoulder. I moved to let him in, earning a thankful sigh as he limped his way to the counter. "What happened? Are you alright? What can I do?" I asked, worried by the appearance of a fresh bruise on his cheek. I tried to look at his shoulder that had obviously been bleeding, but he turned it away from me. "I'm alright. I ain't a baby, I can take care of myself." he said, hissing as he moved the cloth off of the wound. It was a small cut, obviously a missed attempt to stab him, but I could feel my stomach twist from anger. I didn't know who had hurt him, I didn't care, but in that moment I wanted to hurt them just as much if not more than they had hurt Riff. I tried to reach for his arm again, but he once again dodged my efforts. "You might not be a baby, but you're sure acting like one. Let me help." I said gently. He wasn't going to tell me no, so he only sighed and rolled his eyes. I ran upstairs, grabbed the few bandages I had in the house, and went back down to him. "So, are you going to tell me what happened?" I asked, setting my supplies down next to him as he pushed himself up on the shop counter. "Got into a disagreement with some Emeralds. Y'know, I can do this myself." he said, giving me a look as I started to clean the blood around the room. I glared at him, earning a chuckle back. "I'm not the type to stick my nose where it doesn't belong, but maybe try...talking to them? Instead of starting a fight?" I asked sarcastically, earning a chuckle. "It ain't that simple sweetheart," he said, hissing as I began to wrap the wound, "if they run their mouths, I'm not just going to let them. They gotta be taught a lesson." he said. I understood, but I didn't like it. I snipped the bandage and taped it down, standing up and taking his face in my hands. I gently rubbed my thumb over the bruise that had continued to form, darker now than before. "I know, but you shouldn't have to be the teacher if this is how it ends." I said, starting to gather my supplies before Riff grabbed my hands. He pulled me forward, resting his hands on my hips. He gave me a quick, gentle kiss, pulling away and studying my face. "Thank you. I don't say that often, but I mean it." he said, giving me a smile. I smiled back before moving out of his grasp. He whined, standing up and walking over to me as I continued to move out of his grasp and up the stairs. "C'mon Mr. 'Teach Them A Lesson', you need rest." I said in a mocking tone, earning a chuckle as we made our way to bed.

A/N: Heyo! I'm earlier than usual! Literally finishing this in my creative writing class which I find ironic. How's your day going? Mine's going good. My birthday is on Wednesday next week, so how would we feel if I did a special not connected birthday chapter? Anyone??