the only exception

chapter one: i can't let go of what's in front of me

Bob smiled at her words, gently tilting his head to the side. "Well, thanks."

"Remember what I said? Don't push your feelings all the way down. You... have to feel them."

She showed him the mug of coffee, taking in a deep breath. "Want some of my coffee?"

Bob leaned over to her, staring down at the liquid and reaching for the mug. He took a sip.

Coughing, he placed the mug back in her hand, roughly shaking his head. "No... nope—" he rasped, "God, that's terrible."

Yelena started to laugh, finding his reaction— funny, but also— cute, in a way. She likes being around him— watching their ridiculous shows and eating way too much soup and ramen every Saturday. And she likes the way his hair sweeps over his left eye, hiding his brow but still revealing those eyes that are as dark as midnight.

Oh, damn it. She was starting to like him. This never went well.

"You're looking at me funny," Bob said, slipping his hands into the pockets of his robe. "Uhm. Is— everything... good? Are you okay?"

She took in a deep breath, about to speak when the doorbell rang. She rushed over to the door, grateful for the interruption, loudly placing the bag of food on the counter. She unwrapped it, unable to hear Bob's voice in the background.

He rose up from the couch, stumbling into the kitchen island and catching himself. "Yelena—"

She hummed, carefully opening up the plastic bag and placing it in a large tub of grocery bags. Reduce, reuse and recycle, right? That was Ava's idea. Now, everytime they go grocery shopping, they use same bags for everything. Unless they rip, which is... often, especially if Bob's over stuffed the plastic bags at self checkout. Which he usually does, because there's something so discomforting about your face on a security camera the whole time.

"Uh— Yelena?" Bob attempted again.

She chuckled to herself, opening over a few of the styrofoam boxes. "There. Keeping the Void at bay, one chicken tender at a time."

"Thanks for your... rescue, I was... starving. I'll Venmo you," he said, too sweet to accept the meal for what it was— an offering of kindness. He took a seat at the kitchen island, swinging his legs as he sunk his teeth into a chicken tender.

"I got honey mustard. Hah!" Yelena said, pushing the small, plastic container his way.

"Oh, wow, thank you..." He gave her another smile, opening up the container and dipping in the chicken tender. He would've eaten them without any sauce, he's not one to complain. But... she knows his heart. And chicken tenders and honey mustard are his thing.

"These are really good," he laughed, already getting honey mustard sauce on his face.

She grinned, leaning over to wipe the honey mustard away from his mouth. "Messy little thing."

He chuckled, looking up at her. "Did you get it all?"

She nodded, now pressing her hand against his chin. "Yeah." How is he still cute, even with his chicken tender breath? Damn it. She's fucked. He shouldn't be cute this way— looking up at her in the sweetest way, eyes soft and warm—but he is. And he's great. Intelligent, kind, funny, brave... and witty. He makes her laugh.

"Hey, you're—" Bob started. Looking at me in a weird way again, he wanted to reply.

Yelena cut him off by passing him a bottle of soda. "Want some Dr. Pepper?"

He nodded, opening the bottle and placing the cap to the side. He took a swig, the carbonation putting him at ease. He loved soda for that reason. It was so... nostalgic. It reminded him of the good parts of his childhood, which were far and few in between. Going to the soda shop with his mom, before they came home to his father. He blinked, trying to move past the thought of him.