Note: I finally wrote something. And I don’t love it. And it’s rough. But I wrote it. So I’m giving it to y'all and hoping it’s decent. (It’s okay, it’s not…) I’m on my tablet, so a graphic and better formatted post will be coming soon, I hope…
Warnings: Mentions of assault/kidnapping/hostage situation
Word Count: 1,649
You hadn’t been seeing Barba for long. In fact, it had only been a few months of stolen glances, late night phone calls, and the occasional cuddle after he prepared a fancy meal. You didn’t have a label yet, and you didn’t need one, but you also weren’t sure what lines could be crossed and what moments should be left alone, a solitary boat out to sea with no hope of a lighthouse to guide it home.
It wasn’t until he had texted you after a late night, saying that you should stay at his apartment rather than trekking uptown to your apartment or crashing in the cribs at the station that you decided he saw this as more than a stress reliever. You had accepted the offer once and it turned into a regular routine. Multiple nights of the week you would join him. He would read through case files and prepare arguments, you would watch the news, sprawled across the couch with half-lidded eyes and subtle yawns. Eventually, his bed would call to you both, and legs would wrap around each other until the dark night beckoned you to rest.
This night, however, was a little different. Your adrenaline level was coming down from a sky high emergency response. Barely able to even put words to the trauma, you had texted him, subtext pleading for the comfort only he could provide.