Nine

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A/N: I couldn't resist adding this lovely poster

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A/N: I couldn't resist adding this lovely poster. 

Credits to @Imaginecredence on tumblr. Lovely artist. 

You woke up smoothly. Like you just had the best sleep you've ever had. Which was very needed because of all those sleepless nights thinking about Credence. You rubbed your eyes, then realized where you were. You had fallen asleep on the couch in Credence's arms. Your head rested on his shoulder and his arm was around your neck. You sat up slowly so not to wake him up, but you failed. He flinched as if he was waking up from a dream where he was falling. He stood up quickly, in shock. His back was facing you and he stood still with his palms over his eyes. You watched him for a few seconds, then stood up, slowly walking toward him. "Credence? Are you okay?" You asked, in a gentle voice. He abruptly turned around. "W-What time is it?" He asked franticly. You looked at the clock on your mantel. "7:48." (a.m.) You told him. He quickly reacted by rushing to the door and grabbing his coat off of the hook. "I'm gonna be too la-late." He said worriedly. You looked at him with disappointment in your eyes. You wanted to talk to him, to get to know him. You wanted to know what was going on in his head.

"You have to go now? You can't stay for breakfast?" You asked him, both of you standing still. His met your eyes for just a second, then quickly looked back down. You could tell he wanted to stay and you knew he had to be starving. He was quite thin. You figured one of his horrible punishments had to be no dinner.

You stood there staring at him while he made up his mind. He slowly hung his coat back up. You mouth spread into a big smile. You walked toward the kitchen and he followed behind you. You motioned him to sit at the small table with two chairs in the kitchen. He sat and looked at his surroundings that he hadn't notice last night because of the darkness.

It was a small, one room apartment. With metal stairs by the door that led up to a loft, that was your bedroom. Under the loft was the living area. A fireplace under the stairs. A couch sitting across from the fireplace and a coffee table in-between them. The bowl and bandages were still on the table from the night before. You both were on the other side of the apartment, in the kitchen. It was small. Very little cabinets and counter space, but it was all clean and simple. Credence loved it. It was warm and cozy and safe. The way a home should be.

You were in front of the oven making eggs and toast. You had put a plate in front of him and a plate at your place.

He watched you as you cooked. Thinking of last night when he showed you his weak, broken self. He wondered what you thought of him. He wondered if you thought he was weak, a weak little boy who will never be fixed.

You finished cooking and put eggs and a piece of toast on both of your plates. You put the pan in the sink and sat down. He was reluctant to start eating. "Credence, it's okay. You can eat." You said to him, reassuringly. He began to eat. You could tell he was trying really hard not to scarf it down. As you began to eat, it made you sad to think that this could be the first thing he's eaten in a while.

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