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𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐄𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓 — 𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂 (𝐀𝐐𝐏𝐃𝐎)

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: You didn't think much when you decided to leave the house today, you didn't plan for a world apocalypse, you didn't plan to fear for your life, you didn't plan to meet anyone new.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): angst, some fluff, signing, deaf son.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1,963

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Eric x fem!Reader  

𝐀/𝐍: Hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed.

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

You didn’t think your life could flip in an instant. One mere disaster that further evolved into living in fear and silence. You didn’t know what those things were, but all you knew was that the mere lot of them had descended from the sky and now they wreaked havoc in the streets. Your neighborhoods, your city. It wasn’t intact anymore. It had just been a regular day. A great day, one turned into a never-ending nightmare.

The echoes of everyone’s screams still haunt your nightmares. What was a nice sunny day turned into a living hell. You and your Thomas had only needed to get a few necessities that you were running short on. You didn’t think much of it until the ruckus started. Cars crashing into each other outside. Horns going off one by one. People began running frantically, running back into the stores, which had lured the things inside. You had instantly dropped everything and grabbed onto him. Tugging him down with you. Your backs pressed up against the shelves. Your first instinct was to reassure Thomas. He could see everything unfold before him, people running past the aisles, parents hoisting up their children, cans and packages falling, he registered everyone’s movement, but he couldn’t hear the screams and cries. Not like you could. The creature was picking everyone off one by one. You shed tears harder as you brought your hands out in front of you. Your hands were trembling as you managed to say what you needed to him.

Need stay quiet. You signed. You nodded rapidly, trying to make him understand. You brought your finger up to your lips to further emphasize. You brushed back his curls as he brought his own hands up to wipe at your fallen tears.

Your lips trembled as the clicks of the creature grew closer. The store fell into an eery silence. You were just waiting for someone to fuck up and make a sound. Draw attention and risk your lives.

Thomas tapped your arm to gather your attention. His brows furrowed deeply as he signed. Your eyes fell on his hands then his face.

Shooter, what?

You shook your head no. Reaching your hands forward to grip his own. You could see him stricken with fear and confusion. If it hadn’t been a shooter then what was it? Thomas shook his head, his own hands pushing your hands back up to explain it to him further. His jaw was clenched and his eyes narrowed. He pushed against your hands again. Then he signed. Tell me. He mouthed me.

You sighed then closed your eyes. Your brain half working in the brink of nearly dying and trying to get the fuck out of the store. Monster. How the fuck did you forget the sign for monster? You opened your eyes back up. Raising your right hand to spell out monster for him. Letter by letter.

M.O.N.S.T.E.R. You then went to sign what you had been pondering what they were, they shot down from the sky that could only mean one thing right? You rose your hands up to your head, your hands curling to make devil horns, but instead you wigged your forefingers in a circle to sign alien. Your mouth mouthing the word for him as well. Alien.

Thomas’s eyes fell to the ground then back up to you. He shook his head, pressing against your lowering hands. That’s not what he wanted to know. You only locked eyes with him. Keep contact and nodding yes. His eyes widened in fear as he started registering it. His eyes stayed that way as he moved back a bit. His body slumping as his eyes wandered around. Looking to each end of the aisle you took shelter in. The store, you now realized might’ve been the wrong place to take shelter in, anything could clatter to the ground if you weren’t careful.

You figured he needed a minute because it was a lot to take in, but boy were you wrong. His eyes flew past your shoulder, and that’s when he saw the creature before you even heard it. He tugged on your sleeve frantically, scooting back, but you stayed frozen in place as you slowly turned to look at it. His eyes widened in fear. It turned into the row you were in. Thomas gripped your hand firmly. Sliding into your side. He went as far as to wrap his arm around you. His arm now between you and that thing, but it wouldn’t do much to protect you both. The alienated clicks it was making did not put you at ease. Especially as he creeped by you two. You held you breath, staying as still as you could muster. Thomas opted for closing his eyes. If he couldn’t see it, then surely it wouldn’t do anything to you guys, he thought. And it didn’t. Not yet anyway.

The creature didn’t see you. You further watched as it continued down the another end. The people in the aisle next to yours however hadn’t been so lucky. A can colliding with the floor capturing its attention right away. You silently gasped as you clung to Thomas. Burying your face in his chest. He pressed your head to his body. Creating a barrier between you and the horrid sight that was happening before him. His eyes watered as he looked away and let his forehead press on top of yours.

You had completely missed the man looking at you and your child, nor the creature coming back down towards you after tearing apart another person who dared to scream at the sight of them alone. So long as we didn’t make any noise they wouldn’t go near us, you began to put together. They were attracted to noise, so you just had to not make any.

Upon the creature getting closer the man decided to slowly pick up a can and launch it down the store. The loud clatter of the can was enough to drag the creatures attention that way. The cacophony of other peoples screams kept the creature and its second buddy busy. There had been two in the store with you all. He pushed himself up his feet, and grabbed both yours and Thomas’s hands, pulling you out the store before they turned back.

The chaos outside was worse off than the store. You would have rather stayed put inside to not have to watch New York fall apart in disaster. You clutched your son close to you, turning his eyes away from the chaos that administered around you. Various screams of those trying to out run the terrifying creatures down the streets, cars being flipped and ablaze with fire. Buildings shattered glass littering the streets and caught fire from the collision of their arrival. Your beloved city was no longer.

You turned to face the man who saved you both. His mouth opening to speak, but your hand shot out before you could think, covering his lips with your palm as you shook your head no.

He seemed to catch on as he scoped the vacant streets. He looked down brushing his hands against yours, you hesitated to follow him once more, but something in you told you to follow, to follow where he went. Better than staying out in the open. You looked down at Thomas who peered up at the man with feigned interest, he was guarded and caution of the new stranger.

Don’t trust him. He signed, shaking his head. His hands clawing upwards his chest area then curling into fists in an upward twist. Trust is what he signed. His brows pinched together. If his frown didn’t give him away, it had been the judgmental look he gave the man in the brown suit as he roamed his figure in a once over. You sighed quietly, bringing your hands up to sign back.

You mouthed its then brought your forefinger, middle finger and thumb together flicking them outwards in an okay sign. You mouthed Let’s then signed for trust. You brought your hands upwards your chest area too, then curled your hands into fists in an upward twist. Trust.

The roll of his eyes had you smiling. You got him. You extended your arm for him to take then allowed the man to lead, but not before he stuck his finger out in a waiting motion. He paused for a brief second, looking like he was thinking over something then lowered to your son’s height. He brought out his right hand and miserably failed to sign his name, the R passing for a U which had you and your son pinching your brows together. Euic?

Was he foreign?

Upon your lost expression, he looked to you and mouthed Eric. Pointing to himself.

You looked to his lips. AREECC. You mouthed his name to yourself slowly. Your mouth opened in realization knowing where he messed up. You looked down at Thomas whose eyes shifted back and forth between the two of you. You waited patiently till his eyes landed on you and your hand. E-R-I-C. You signed the R hard for emphasis in replacement of the U.

Eric? What? Really? Thomas’s brows shot up in amusement.

Your son deadpan at the man. Eric now labeled, was lost to his own confusion. You silently laughed, no sound echoing past your lips. You slowly helped him out hitting and making each letter out hard. You twisted your forefinger and middle finger together. Then pressed your thumb to lay on top of your ring finger. R you mouthed.

Eric copied your hands. R he mouthed. He went to make the attempt again with your son. He lowered down to his height and began with pointing to himself. I’m E-R-I-C. He smiled feeling happier he was able to get his name across to you both. He went further to extend his hand out, your Thomas was hesitant but eventually shook his hand. With learned precision, Thomas’s signed letters came out second nature. Watching Eric trying to catch each one was all the entertainment you needed today. You tapped his shoulder to look up at you. You slide your right dominant hand up your non dominant left a short distance across your forearm in a fast motion, starting from the back of the base.

Slow. You gave him a pointed look. He don’t sign. You slide your right dominant hand up your non dominant left a short distance across your forearm again, going even slower to emphasis very very slow.

Slow. You mouthed. Thomas huffed in annoyance. You understoodd his hate to go at the pace of someone who wasn’t fluent, his want for people to learn was valid, but not everyone wanted to or wasn’t very good at it.

He patted Eric and waited for his eyes to shift onto him. With reluctance and annoyance he brought his hand up and signed his name slow at your requests. T-H-O-M-A-S.

Thomas, he mouthed his name then pointed to himself.

“T–“ You had rushed forward again when Eric began to pronounce his name. You muffled the T before it spilled past his lips. You looked around, your heart beating against your chest, but the tension in your shoulders didn’t let up. A creature ran by but didn’t see nor hear you three. You let your head fall forward. Eric steadying himself with a hand on your shoulders. You shook your head again, lifting it slowly then bringing your forefinger to your lips. Your reminder to him to remain quiet. Quiet…you all needed to stay quiet. Your fear struck something within him, a need to not fail you again. To not fail you and Thomas ever again.

do you ever become obsessed with a character and you just go "of fucking course its that one" at yourself because you are so incredibly predictable

it's gotten worse he's added hands FUCKING HAND PRINTS 😭🫠

Summary: Sam has noticed how much you look at Eric, and encourages you to go for what you want because no one knows how much time there is left.

Note: I hope you enjoy this story about my dear sweet wet boy 🥰

Warnings: movie canon violence

Words: 3.6k

What meds do you need?

With a shaky hand, Sam reaches out and takes her notebook and marker from Eric. She hastily scribbles down a few words, her eyes blinking every few seconds as if she’s fighting off sleep.

Her thin arm drops off the side of the bench, weakly offering the notebook back to Eric. You watch his doe eyes scan over the words before he tears the paper out of the book.

Eric nods as he folds up the sheet and slips it into his pocket. He gives you a terse smile that you don’t have the energy to return. Your eyes follow him as he steps through the rubble and debris towards the front door of the church. 

The moment he’s out of sight, you push yourself off the dirty floor, grab Sam’s Bai, and take a seat next to her head on the bench. The struggle to lift her head is apparent so you quickly slide closer so her head can rest on your lap. She gives you a look of thanks before she sips from the bottle.

Once she finishes, Sam gestures to the notebook on the top of her “I heart NY” tote. Luckily, you can reach it without jostling her head too much. 

The marker scratches against the paper as she writes. It takes her a minute longer than it did for her to write out the medication she needs, so you’re curious about what it says as she hands it to you over her head. 

I see how you keep looking at him. You going to say anything or what?

Heat floods your face, and you swear everyone else in the church is able to read the note over your shoulder. Doing your best to shake it off, you write back a quick message before handing the notebook back to Sam.

Not allowed to speak at all.

She reads what you wrote and drops the notebook onto her chest, letting her eyes roll up so she can give you the most unamused glare you’ve ever seen. 

As if Frodo is also unimpressed with your answer, he crawls out from beneath the bench, stretches his front legs out with his tail in the air, then heads towards the door. 

Funny. Pretty sure your eyes have left him all of twice since we left the apartment. 

It had been pure luck seeing Sam and Eric come into the apartment building last night. The distinctly human footsteps walked past the door of your apartment on the fourth floor and your curiosity got the better of you. You’d been held up in your home since the start of whatever kind of invasion this is and the need to see another live human being was too strong to deny. Though this was just last night it feels like another lifetime ago.

This is possibly the end of the world, and you want me to what? Tell Eric I think he’s cute?

You can’t help but see the twisted humor in the fact that you and Sam are sitting in a dilapidated old church, in the middle of what seems to be an alien invasion, and the two of you are writing notes back and forth to one another like high school girls gossiping. 

I’m saying to go for what you want. We could be dead in a minute for all we know. Don’t waste your time.

It’s hard to argue that point with someone you know has limited time left. It’s even harder to argue because you know she’s right. But even though you’re in survival mode now, you’re still you and don’t find things like this easy. Call it insecurity or trauma from high school when the guy you had a massive crush on found out about it and laughed in your face. Things like that don’t just go away—even in the apocalypse.

We’re focusing on staying alive right now, Sam. 

You’re deflecting.

It’s just the truth.

It’s still deflecting. 

What do you want me to say, huh? I’m already scared for my life, I don’t need heartache on top of everything else right now.

Why do you think it would be heartache?

Because guys like him aren’t interested in girls like me.

Guys like him? Girls like you?

Yeah. Handsome, smart, kind. And me, not those things. I don’t need to feel like the rejected high school girl again right now. 

Are you shitting me? This isn’t high school. Either tell Eric how you feel or agonize over what could have been. 

Again, trying to survive right now.

So afterwards. On the boat out of here.

Maybe.

If I had the strength to wring your neck, I would. Cancer has fucked up my life but one thing it did do is show me how useless shame is. There’s no time for being embarrassed, it’s just a waste. 

Why do you care so much?

What? You’re not getting my loving and nurturing vibe?

Ha. But really.

You’re both good people who deserve to be happy. If you can find that in each other then I think you should at least try. 

Fine. On the boat. I’ll say something to him there.

Swear on Frodo.

That’s not fair.

Do it.

Fine, I swear on Frodo.

Sam seems content after that and closes her notebook and rests it on her abdomen. 

It seems somewhat like emotional blackmail when the woman dying of cancer makes you swear on her sweet, adorable service cat. 

The arguing (if you could call it that) has drained some of Sam’s energy and you see her eyes start to flutter closed. But a spark lights in her eyes, and she opens the notebook once more. At first you think she has something else to say to you about the whole crushing on Eric thing, but this sentence is for her.

My dad played beautiful piano.

A bittersweet smile rests on your lips. 

Sam tries to put the notebook back down on her bag, but a wince tells you that the effort is hurting her. Gently, you take the notebook from her and set it down. She nods her head in thanks. 

For the better part of an hour, Sam dozes on and off. It doesn’t seem like a particularly restful sleep she’s getting, but you hope it’s doing something to help her. 

When Eric comes back, Frodo leading him in, he looks exhausted. Not that any of you were in top form these days, but Eric looks even more haggard than when he left. Still cute, though. Unfairly cute.

As he walks towards you and Sam on the bench, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a box no bigger than a Polaroid picture. With a slight wince, Eric kneels next to Sam and begins getting the patch out and free from its adhesive. 

Sam tilts herself to the side and you help her turn enough that she can show Eric where to place it. 

Once it’s firmly on her skin and Sam is comfortably on her back again, it only takes a few minutes before the relief is visible. Her body has relaxed, her breathing down to a steady pace, and she looks the most at peace you've ever seen her. It feels like your heart has been run through with a sword when you think about all this poor woman must have gone through. 

“My dad played beautiful piano.”

Eric held Sam’s notebook in his hand, smiling at the few words. You just hope that’s the only page he stays on. He turns his head and meets Sam’s eyes.

“I loved it when he would bring me to watch him play,” Sam says, voice ragged and weak. “Then we’d get pizza at Patsy’s.”

That explains the odd insistence for pizza when the world is ending. 

“What happened to him?” you ask softly.

There are a few moments where Sam doesn’t speak, and you begin to think she’s not going to answer you. 

“He died,” she says. The pain in her watery eyes is palpable. You would want to wrap her up in a hug if she weren’t in so much pain. “Like I am now.”

The sad truth said out loud at last. You haven’t heard either of them say it up to this point. 

“Not before we get pizza,” Eric tells her. 

A small smile ticks up the corners of Sam’s mouth. 

“Not before we get pizza,” she agrees. 

The ship is leaving the port. It’s not too far out so it would be possible for you all to still secure passage on it. But then the dread in your stomach grows as you watch creature after creature step onto the sandy shore. They take great care to stay far enough away from the water, though. 

You, Sam, Eric, and Frodo trudge through the wreckage of cars and building debris scattered along the road. 

The four of you drop behind the carcass of an old van, all of you pressing your backs up against the tarnished metal. 

A shuddering breath comes from next to you and your head whips towards Eric, who is between you and Sam. His eyes tear up and he grits his teeth, trying to ward off the anxiety that’s creeping up.

Sam immediately presses a hand to Eric’s chest and in the lowest whisper possible says, “Breathe.”

You take one of Eric’s hands in your own and give it an encouraging squeeze. Hoping he’ll follow your lead, you take a large breath in, then let it out. It helps a bit, but the anxiety is so strong. How could it not be in the situation you’re all prisoners to?

Your eyes move from Eric to Sam as you watch her nuzzle her face against Frodo and press kisses to his black and white fur. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think she’s saying goodbye to him. Then she hands Frodo to Eric, and it hits you. She was saying goodbye to Frodo. Instinct tells you to fight her on this, but how can you? One, you can’t speak. And two, who are you to tell her not to do this? If it were you, you’d rather go out trying to save the lives of your companions rather than let a vicious disease let you waste and wither away, slowly and painfully as the world ends around you. Sam is thinking that her life is almost up, and she’d rather buy yours and Eric’s lives with the short time she has left.

Sam pushes herself into a crouch as Eric clings to Frodo, holding him close to his chest. You let go of Eric’s hand so he can hold onto the cat better—Lord knows he’s already run away enough times. 

“Run,” Sam whispers. 

Before she takes off, you look her in the eye and nod your head once. Between that and the tears building in your eyes, you hope she sees your acknowledgment of what she’s doing and all the gratitude you can convey to her. 

Sam nods in return, telling you she knows. Then, she’s gone. You see her crouch down behind cars as she makes her way through the lot. She picks up a crowbar and smashes it through a still-intact window of a car.

The smashing glass catches the attention of the creatures, and you know the time to move is now. Looking at one another, both you and Eric take a deep breath before getting up from behind the car. 

Monsters rush past you, leaving you almost no room to dodge them as they race in the direction of the noise Sam is making. It seems like a miracle once the two of you see the dock ahead, no creatures between you and there.

Your sprint turns into a run, Eric keeping pace right beside you as he holds Frodo securely against him. A few steps onto the pier, Eric’s foot kicks a large metal can that skids a few feet away. It clangs as it tumbles, and the monsters hear it. 

There’s no need for you to look back; you know they’re coming. All energy reserves go into your legs as you run faster. The rail around the dock is broken in one place, giving you and Eric the perfect opportunity to jump into the water. 

But they’re getting closer.

You can hear the monsters gaining on you, and a quick glance shows one leaping in the air, aiming to land right on top of you, Eric, and Frodo. But you jump. The flash of yellow beside you brings immense relief as you hit the water—both of you jumped in time. 

As you surface, you look back and see a gang of creatures waiting at the exact spot you and Eric leapt from. Two heads pop up next to you, one human and one cat, both safe. If this were any other circumstance, you would probably chuckle at how Frodo looks all wet. 

Eric gazes back at the land with you and you both see Sam, standing between two dedicated cars.

Shouts come from the ship behind you, encouraging you to swim over to them. Without saying a word to each other though, both you and Eric take the time to look back at Sam. To watch her, this brave woman in every sense of the word. There could never be a way for either of you to thank her enough, but you hope she feels some semblance of it. 

Wide brown eyes meet yours as you turn towards Eric. The two of you bob in the water for a few moments, looking at each other as you attempt to catch your breaths. Now it’s time to get to the boat. It’s time to get to safety.

Once the three of you have made it to the boat, you’re helped on board and assured that you’re safe now. Blankets are brought to wrap around you, Eric, and one for Frodo as well. 

It seems impossible to attempt relaxation after the last few days’ events, but there’s nothing else to do as the ship sails slowly along. Where it’s headed, you don’t know. You don’t particularly care at the moment, either. 

You, Eric, and Frodo make yourself comfortable in a small alcove on deck. It feels like you fall in a heap together, collective exhaustion kicking in. You weren’t even aware of how tired you were until this moment. The adrenaline finally starts to wear off and you lay your head down on Eric’s shoulder. You don’t intend to, but you quickly fall asleep against him.

When you wake, your head is still on Eric. Slowly, you sit up straight and smile when you see Frodo sleeping on Eric’s chest, all curled up in his blanket. Eric’s gaze catches yours and the moment you look into the beautiful brown eyes that make your knees weak, you remember what you promised Sam. On the boat. I’ll say something to him there.

After everything you’ve been through, you now understand clearer than ever what Sam meant about there being no time for embarrassment. No one knows if the next moment is their last, and do you really want to regret keeping your feelings inside? No. Plus, there was absolutely no way you could break your word to Sam after what she just did for you. 

“Eric,” you start, unsure of how to phrase what you want to say. He looks at you, waiting for you to continue. Gathering your nerve, you do. “I want…I have to tell you something.”

“Sure. Anything.”

Another deep breath. Sam’s voice whispers in your head, you can do this.

“I don’t, um, know where we’re going. Or what’s going to happen next. I can’t even begin to think about that, really. B-But I do know that I would like to stay with you for as long as you’ll let me. I like being with you.”

A shy smile grows on Eric’s face, and he nods his head. 

“I like being with you, too,” he says. “I’d love to stick with you.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. But can I ask you…is it because you think I’m cute?” Eric is trying his hardest not to smirk, but the look of surprise on your face threatens to overtake him.

“I-I…”

“Or well,” Eric says, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a crumpled piece of paper and holds it between the two of you, “at least that’s what you told Sam.”

Your eyes dart down to the paper, and you recognize your and Sam’s handwriting. A gasp startles out of you as you realize it’s the note you and she passed back and forth in the church.

Eric is full on grinning when you look at his face again. His shoulders shake as he chuckles, and his laugh is infectious. You start giggling yourself and bring your hands up to cover your eyes.

“Oh my God, she ripped it out of the notebook and shoved it in her pocket? She thought I was gonna wimp out!”

Neither of you can stop laughing now. After being so scared and quiet for so long, it just feels so good. 

Eric pulls out another piece of paper and hands it to you.

“She also wrote us this sweet note.”

The letter from Sam makes you smile, cry, and oddly, feel some form of peace. She’s home. 

“Aw, Frodo,” you say as you fold the note back up. “You would be the handsomest boy even if you did get fat. But no, we’re not going to feed you too much.”

Eric chuckles and holds his arm open for you. You gladly accept the invite and curl up against his side. The scent of the salt water, wet cat, and the mustiness from the blankets do nothing to cover the scent that is pure Eric. You rest your forehead against his neck as he wraps his arm snugly around you and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“You know,” he says softly as he lays his head against yours, “I came very close to getting you and I killed multiple times.”

“What?” You frown as you reach your hand out to stroke the top of Frodo’s head. “How?”

“Well, when I first saw you, when you stepped out of your apartment, I didn’t say anything. Not only because I couldn’t, but I was speechless. You’re so pretty and I froze. Sam had to push me three or four times to get me to walk again. And then there were so many times I’d just look at you and almost blurt out how beautiful you are. Because your beauty is something that’s impossible to keep quiet about. Then I got to know how kind you are. So compassionate, brave, selfless. Your beauty runs farther than skin deep and it made me even more of a bumbling idiot.”

You can’t help but giggle as you bury your head farther into the juncture where his neck and shoulder meet. 

“But I do have a bone to pick with you,” Eric says.

Reluctantly, you pick your head up to look him in the eye.

“Why?” you ask, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

He picks the note between you and Sam back up and begins to read a part aloud.

“Why do you think it would be heartache?

Because guys like him aren’t interested in girls like me.

Guys like him? Girls like you?

Yeah. Handsome, smart, kind. And me, not those things. I don’t need to feel like the rejected high school girl again right now.”

He lowers the note and shakes his head.

“Now, I don’t know what kind of absolute prats you went to high school with, but anyone who rejected you is, quite literally, insane. And I don’t like this talk about ‘girls like you.’ You make it seem like such a bad thing to be you. But you’re possibly one of the best people I’ve ever met. And I know that after only knowing you for about two days. And it didn’t take me more than four seconds to see how stunning you are. Frodo and I want you to see yourself the way we do. Right, boy?”

Both of you look down at the snoozing cat and you scratch between his ears with a chuckle.

“I’ll work on it,” you say earnestly. 

Frodo tilts his head and you let your hand drop. You lift your head and Eric is so close. It would barely take any movement for his lips to be on yours. So, you make that move. The hand that was petting Frodo comes up to cup Eric’s jaw as you lean in and press your lips against his.

Eric’s body immediately sinks against yours, holding you tighter as he kisses you back with urgency. It’s as if he remembers the two of you have more time now and he can savor this moment as he slows the kiss down, enjoying exploring your mouth at a lazy speed. There’s no rush anymore. You’re safe and both here together. 

When you part, he rests his forehead against yours and you’re pretty sure there are identical grins on both of your faces. 

“I can’t wait to hear your laugh over and over again,” you tell him.

“I can’t wait to hear you say my name,” he replies.

“Eric.” It’s the first time you’ve been able to say it above the lowest of whispers. “Eric, Eric, Eric.”

His grin grows even larger, and he presses a quick kiss to your lips.

“God, I love the sound of that.”

changbin: I'm going to stare at you until you love me play playstation with me