Sharp Edges: Crosshair x Reader [NSFW]

Shots Fired, Part 1

"Hey," you interrupted, further inflamed by his attack on your best friend, "She makes mistakes sometimes. We all do."

"Not mistakes that could lead to torture, imprisonment, or death," he countered, voice lowering in a way that was even more disconcerting than the yelling. "You need friends with better judgment if you don't have it yourself."

You fell silent, incensed and hurt at the same time, in complete and total disbelief. Ten different responses flew through your head at once, but before you were able to select one, you felt your eyes welling up. If there was one thing you hated more than most anything else, it was crying. Especially in front of someone else. Especially in front of him. You turned on your heel, blinking rapidly to hold back the tears, and fled to your bedroom, slamming the door behind you. It felt good, for a half a second, until you buried your face in your bed, the heat and angst within finally brimming over in gasping sobs, stifled by the fluffy pillows.

As much as you hated it, saw it as a sign of weakness and vulnerability, there was something restorative about crying as hard as you were. It was gut-wrenching and exhausting, but as you let it all out, realizing it included all the fears of last night, all your worries about Crosshair, and a horde of other things you'd stuffed down, you slowly began to feel empty. Then calm. You took a deep, shuddering breath, exhaling as though you could just blow it all away, and wiped your face. You sat for a minute, staring at the wall, before a light knock at the door startled you out of your reverie.

"What?" you snapped at the door, a bit shocked at your own vehemence. The handle slowly turned, and Crosshair edged in as though he were stepping into a minefield, which wasn't too far from the truth. He kept his distance, looking at you in your scattered bedding, eyes red and swollen from crying. You hated that he was seeing you this way... pathetic, messy... He swallowed, dropping his eyes to the ground, furrowed brows hiding their expressions.

"I thought I was going to lose you," he finally admitted, barely above a whisper. You watched his face, noting the tightened lips and the side glance to another part of the floor, and the hint of brokenness in his voice melted your heart in a new way. You opened your mouth to give him a lesson about proper delivery, but he continued. "I've lost... a lot... And I'm expected to just get over it and move on because that's the nature of things and the reality of life. You dull yourself to the pain, try to prevent situations that would cause it..." He faltered, drifting off for a moment before raising his eyes back to yours. His beautiful, pale brown eyes were pools of emotion, and you found yourself longing to have him in your arms.

"I'm so sorry," you whispered, unable to move or think of anything better to say.

"I've lived with regret, I've carried blame... But if something had happened to you..." he continued, trying to express it all but having no template or experience to draw from. "I'd have to endure that pain and continue onward as though nothing had happened."

You opened your arms, inviting him to join you, feeling nervous that he'd refuse or would make fun of you, but he slowly climbed onto the bed next to you and allowed you to wrap him in an embrace that said more than you ever could, pulling his head close against your chest as you laid down flat again. You were surprised that he felt so strongly, and even more surprised at the fact that he permitted you to see him and comfort him in it. You slowly entwined your legs with his, caressing the back of his head tenderly, other hand pressed against his strong back. You were a little nervous, trying to find the right thing to say.

"If you think you can just use your perfect tits to fix everything," he continued suddenly, "...you're right."

You laughed, the tension of the moment broken with your shock at his ridiculous words. He rolled away, lying on his back and turning his head toward you, still wearing a profound expression but accenting it with a sparkle in his eyes. You were grateful for the similar approach between the two of you to serious or emotional topics -- diffusing the pressure with humor, sarcasm, or snark. But you were also moved by his words and the depth of what he'd shared.