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Credits to owner: drhxnkmccoy on tumblr Warnings: nothing much Word count: 1.4k
Quentin's never said the words before, especially to someone he thought was disposable. Now that he's afraid to let go, there's only one question: does she feel the same?
Quentin tried his hardest to shut the door quietly behind him. He took off his jacket and tossed his oil-stained lab gloves atop the pile of dirty laundry that was overflowing from the hamper in the corner of his apartment. He slid into bed, not as stealthily as he had intended as he felt (Y/N) turn over beside him.
"Did you get laid?" She asked casually, rolling onto her back.
"Oh, yeah," a smile pulled at his lips, "William's a great fuck."
She laughed, encouraging his smile to fully present itself. He leaned down, kissing her neck as she continued to speak.
"I was afraid you were."
He tilted his head up to look at her, eyebrows raised. Afraid? The gears started turning in Quentin's head and he realized that she was didn't want him to be seeing other girls. She wanted him to herself. Quentin pondered the thought of the two of them... forever. He'd been with a lot of girls, more specifically he'd broken up with a lot of girls. He never considered himself the type of guy to just settle down and be in a relationship - he always had to be rogue and unpredictable, but now he as he imagined himself waking up besides other girls, the only thing he could think was that these other girls just weren't her. He snickered, a smirk appearing on his lips, "You're crazy."
His lips connected with hers and he felt her hands start to tug at his hair. He usually lived for the feeling of her hands in his hair, but this time something started to tug at his heart strings and after a moment his heart completely dropped into his stomach, leaving his chest with a wild, empty feeling and his stomach with butterflies.
She opened her eyes as she felt his lips separate from hers, immediately noticing the look on his face and the way he couldn't seem to catch his breath.
"What? Is everything okay?"
Quentin couldn't find the words to answer her. Both of his arms had begun shaking, and everytime his brain thought of something to say his tongue fucked it up.
"Honey, your heart is beating really fast." Both of (Y/N)'s hands were on his chest now, the feeling of her palms atop his dress shirt burning into his skin.
Quentin sat up, panting as (Y/N) followed suit. She crossed her legs and watched as he loosened the cheap tie around his neck in an effort to take in some air. (Y/N) leans in a tad closer, tugging Quentin's old tee shirt over her knees in an effort to warm herself in the blanket's absence. Quentin liked to keep the windows open, and even though it froze her she always obliged. Every night she hoped that the cold would bring him closer to her, and every morning she woke up tied between the sheets and his arms.
