“Do you think Watneys okay?” You asked softly, curled in a wooly blanket with a mug of hot coffee grasped close to your chest.
“I’d like to think so,” Beck replied, “He’s using his botanist powers, Y/N.”
You let out an airy laugh, glancing over at the man sharing your blanket. His hair was ruffled and fluffy, reminding you of a baby duck. He lolled his head to look at you, giving a wide smile. You snorted again and looked away, partly to hide your blush and secondly to stop yourself kissing him.
He had one hand hooked on your thigh, his fingers trapped in the crease of your bent knee while his thumb rubbed circles by your knee. The little action was causing your heart to pound. He followed your gaze to the window where countless stars glowed in the blackness of space.
“Amazing, isn’t it?” He said softly, nodding to it.
“Yes,” You agreed.
Beck didn’t speak again, lost in a daze as if he was hypnotized by the little lights. You glanced over, shocked to find his eyes fixed on you. When he realized he’d been caught, he gave a toothy grin and brought a hand up to further ruffle his hair while looking away. You noticed the light dust of pink on his cheeks, the minute detail sending your heart into another rampaging fit of infatuated fury.
“What’s the first thing you’re going to eat when you get back to earth?” You blurt suddenly.
Beck took this into serious consideration, tilting his head as he chewed on his bottom lip. He looked over at you and gave you a long look before answering.
“I really want fresh fruit,” He said, shockingly dull compared to what he was acting like it’d be.
“I really want bread,” You said mournfully.
Bread wasn’t allowed. It crumbled and could damage important equipment.
Beck groaned in response, “I forgot about bread… I change my answer.”
You chuckled as he dropped his head onto your shoulder, acting like your heart wasn’t doing a gymnastics floor routine in your chest. Beck yawned quietly, reminding you of a kitten. He was bundled in a NASA sweater and warm sweatpants. His feet clad in large wooly socks. Beck didn’t like being cold, if it wasn’t obvious.
Conversation didn’t start up again, choosing to sit in a comfortable silence. Beck hadn’t moved instead wiggling closer against you. You gave him a questioning quirk of the eyebrow.
“I’m cold,” He explained.
“How?” You asked incredulously.
“Dunno,” He shrugged pulling the blanket close to his chin.
You huffed softly, gulping quietly when the cold tip of his nose grazed your neck.
“Jesus, Beck, do you wanna cuddle?” You asked suddenly and more sharply than you had intended, your pent up frustration obvious.
“I’m sorry,” He pulled away, eyes downcast.
“No, it’s fine. Do you?” You softened your voice.
It wasn’t hard to figure out Beck was a sensitive soul. He was quiet, soft and introverted. He would talk, sure, but only when he had to. Every time he cracked a joke it sent Watney into a fit.
“I’d like it,” He hadn’t met your gaze.
“C'mere,” You wrapped your arm around him and pulled him down to lay on top of you.
He was quick to find a comfortable position, face pressed to your neck, one thigh between yours, the other against the outside of your hip. One of his hands softly cupped the side of your neck his face wasn’t against.
He had a ghost of a smile on his lips as he laid there. You glanced down and saw it, the small quirk once again sent your heart pounding away.
“What’s the smile for?”
“Your heart is beating really fast.”
Of course he could hear it.
“Huh,” You responded vaguely in hopes that he’d just drop it.
“No reason,” you had tried to respond in a casual, airy voice but it came out as a choke.
Beck turned and propped his chin on your chest to see you better.
“Well don’t lie, just tell me,” He insisted.
You remained silent, averting your eyes. The blush on your cheeks was enough to tell Beck what he needed but he wanted to hear you say it. So he sat there, staring at you. The intensity of it made you twitchy.
“Stop what?” He replied quickly and cheekily.
“Stop looking at me like that,” You snapped.
“Why?” He grinned.
“Because it makes me want to kiss you,” You felt the air rush from your lungs as the words left your lips.
Beck was smiling like the cat the ate the canary as you gaped like a fish. He hummed in satisfaction, pleased the words were finally out in the open.
“I know, love.” He pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, effectively cutting off your stammering.
“You’re evil,” You said softly.
Beck laughed loudly, “I am not!”
“Are too! You knew!” You argued playfully.
“I just wanted to hear you say it, in case I was wrong,” Beck defended himself.
You scoffed and rolled your eyes. Beck nuzzled back into your neck, fingers painting patterns on your exposed collarbone. The comfortable silence resumed.
Favorite Floor Routine: Aly Raisman, 2015 Worlds Team Final
I love floor and I have about 20 routines that I consider my all time favorites, but I particularly love this routine of Aly’s. The music, the tumbling, and yes, even some of the choreo make this one stand out, even though it’s not the best routine that she’s done. I was so excited to see Aly come back and do a great floor routine at Worlds (especially after her bad qualification) and I’m glad that she’s sticking with this for 2016!
Harry Hart is the anonymous author of the Kingsman book series and the owner of the small bookstore Galahad. He chooses to live a quiet life running his bookstore, interacting with his editor and best friend, Merlin, and his dog, Mr. Pickle. This all changes, however, when young actor Eggsy Unwin bursts into his quaint bookstore seeking shelter from his fans.
While planning his wedding, Eggsy comes across his mother’s old diary which contains a list of three men who could be the father she never told him about: Lee Unwin, Archibald Knight, and Harry Hart. He invites them all, convinced he’ll know which one is his father at first glance. Unfortunately, it turns out that that’s not quite the case and Harry Hart also happens to be very much Eggsy’s type.
In the aftermath of V-Day, Merlin reaches out to the American branch of Kingsman for additional support and recruit nominations. Harvey Specter, once a Kingsman nomination, now Kingsman’s and Manhattan’s best closer, brings Donna and Mike to London as his nominations. Harry Hart is alive, Mike and Eggsy sigh and pine over their handsome, older mentors, and Donna, Roxy, and Merlin are just sort of fed up with all the pining and angst that occurs.
Harry Hart is an analyst for Kingsman, a handsome gentleman with a habit of collecting dogs. His main dog is named Mr. Pickle, a small dog who commands the other strays he pulls in from time to time. The thing with Harry, however, is that his extreme empathy allows him to see into the minds of criminals, something he has problems controlling. Cue his doctor, Gary “Eggsy” Unwin, a young psychiatrist, talented cook, and someone incredible invested in Harry’s mental health.
Eggsy Unwin (mugsandpugs) and Harry Hart (mannersmakethman) are two British bloggers who live together, making videos of any and all subjects while their fanbase questions their relationship with each other.
Harry Hart is Harry Styles, and Eggsy Unwin is Louis Tomlinson. Together with Roxy and Merlin , they make up the hugely successful and popular band Kingsman. (This one is getinthefuckingjaeger‘s fault.)