αяє тнσѕє му ¢нυ¢к тαуℓσяѕ? *:.｡..｡.:*ℍ𝕠𝕓𝕚𝕖 𝔹𝕣𝕠𝕨𝕟 *:.｡. .｡.:*

𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖤𝖱 𝖳𝖶𝖤𝖭𝖳𝖸-𝖤𝖨𝖦𝖧𝖳: 𝖣𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗈 𝖫𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇' 𝖠𝗌𝗌 𝖡𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁

~

Hobie POV:

"Sure thing, sweet cheeks." I drawl, quietly closing the door behind me.

Once I'm sure I'm no longer in her sight, I bury my face into my palms, callouses rough against my cheeks.

Oh lord. Did she really just call me 'pretty boy'?

And why did I actually LIKE it?

I feel the scorch of my cheeks on my hands as I slide my back down the door, sitting down with a hard thump.

The shower turns on, and I hear her sigh with relief as I assume she steps into the hot water.

My shoulders relax at the sound. I'm glad she feels at least a little better.

I sit there for a while, listening to the sounds of the water hitting the porcelain tub. The occasion noises of bottle caps being opened and the squirt of products reassures me she's OK.

She's OK.

She's OK.

She's OK.

~

Eventually, I decide to ring Miguel to provide him with an update. Not wanting to stray too far if she needs me, I only step into my bedroom, which is directly next door. I leave the door open, so I can still hear everything.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

"Brown? What's wrong? Is y/n OK?" A gruff voice answers, tone ever so slightly panicked.

"I- She's fine. I think."

"What the shock do you mean 'think'? What happened?"

"l/n had another bad reaction to the gateway."

"How bad? Do I need to come? Open your window I will be there in-"

I cut him off. "No, no. Don't come, eh? She's aight now, she just had some weird black and red veins runnin' through her eyes an' allat."

I hear as Miguel sucks in a breath over the receiver. "You sure she's fine?"

"Yeah. Didn't hurt, nuffink like 'at."

He lets a shaky breath. "Good. Good. Keep me updated on EVERYTHING, OK?"

"Uh, yeah." I agree, slightly confused at his panic. "Why are you so anxious?"

"None of your business." His voice shifts, transitioning from anxiety-ridden to stone-cold serious.

"Right. Um, see ya th-"

"I'm not done with you, Brown."

Huh?

"Don't try anything with her."

~

Y/N POV:

I forgot to get some clothes out. Ugh, I really don't want to be in just a towel in front of him. How embarrassing.

Mustering up all the pride I can find, I step out into the hallway, steam trailing behind me.

"I'm not done with you, Brown."

Is that Miguel? Poking my head into Hobie's room, I see him standing with his back to me, watch brought just below his face.

"Don't try anything with her."

What the fuck?

I watch as Hobie straightens, his free hand curling into a tight fist. "I don't know what you're talking about." He responds, voice scarily calm.

"Don't play games, Brown. I see the way you look at her. And she was wearing your hoodie! You like her."

Excuse me? All I can do is stand there in shock, one hand braced on the doorframe to steady myself.

"Excuse me?" Bro plucked the words right from my brain.

"Whatever is going on between you two, I want it to cease, you hear me? It's unprofessional. Besides, you will only hurt her."

"I would never hurt her, prick." Hobie growls, shoulders tensing with anger. "You don't know anythin' about me an' her. Butt the FUCK out."

Beep, beep, beep.

Did he seriously just hang up on his BOSS?

"Fuckin' wanker, dorito lookin' ass bitch." He mumbles under his breath, running his hands down his face in frustration.

"Hobie?" My words are barely audible.

His entire body spins to face me, eyes widening at the sight of only a towel around my middle.

"y/n?"

"What was that?"

~

A/N:

can i get a piece of your loveeeeeee

anyways

pls no one attack Miguel that badly HAHAHA he has his reasons

enjoy this short ass chapter

BARK BARK BARK WOOF WOOF GRRRR RUFF