Sting Eucliffe x Reader Book 3

Chapter 3 - The Physicality of Boys

You let the ride's silence take over and you pulled out your tools again. You were making significant progress with all this spare time not sleeping. The train rides were the best place to work too. It was coming together and soon enough you'll be able to wrap it and get it ready for Sting in a few days.

It was a black and white checkered scarf — a big one that was thick enough to keep him warm in a monster storm like this one.

You really didn't need this storm right now.

Christmas Eve was in four days if you included this one and you were pressed for time. You were working all day at Eclair's, helping at Spriggan 12 (the club) tomorrow night, assisting Brandish Brandish two days till the show at 8 PM sharp. She said you could shower and get ready at her place before the show because she too needed to look presentable before dealing with dozens upon dozens of people.

You dove yourself into your work, determined to finish the scarf today and wrap it tomorrow morning. You may not have had a tree to put the present under, but you had the present itself and that's all that mattered to you. You couldn't wait to give it to him and then with your free time, visit the city's shrine on New Year's. He could wear your scarf, you could share hot cocoa, share fortunes. It was going to make up for last year's drama.

You couldn't wait.

You kept knitting and knitting. Losing your thoughts and becoming lost in your work.

A vibration grabbed your attention back and your ringer urged you to reach into your bag and pull out your phone. Your father was calling you.

"Hello?" You spoke quietly enough for it to sound normal on your father's end and not bother the people in the train car on your end.

"I saw you called me earlier. Is something wrong?" You father asked, genuinely sounding worried. "You're not fighting with that boyfriend of yours are you?"

You smiled, almost laughing but holding it in for the sake of the other passengers. "No, we're fine. I just called because I felt like talking I guess. Sorry if I bothered you. You must be busy."

"No, I'm not busy," That was never true. You've known that for years so the thought of him lying to ease your worries made you feel better. "Are you sure everything's alright?"

"Yeah, I was kind of calling to see if you wanted to have lunch again soon. Since Christmas is right around the corner."

There was a pause on his end. You barely heard it but your father sighed. "I'm actually spending Christmas evening with your grandparents if you'd like to join us."

You paused as well. You wanted to answer with a definite no, yet nothing came out. You were at a loss for words.

"(Y/N)?"

"Sorry, I'm here. I just... I don't really know. Grandmother scares the hell out of me."

"Please watch your language."

"Sorry, but Grandmother scares me to death."

He sighed again. He always sighed like it was his second was of breathing. It came as natural as breathing and sounded flawless — a perfect sigh. "Your Grandmother scares me too."

"Why are you eating dinner with her then?" You sounded almost defensive like it was either your side or your grandmother's he was taking.

"Because she invited me and some of your other relatives. You're invited as well, however, I had already told her you had plans."

You get why he did it now. He finally respected your wishes of not wanting to see her. Was he recognizing you as an adult now or just respecting your obvious discomfort?

"Thank you." You told him.

In that moment the train shook, stopped, and blacked out. Your father must've heard the small cries and gasps from the other passengers because his voice was filled with worry. "(Y/N)? What was that? Are you alright?"

You landed on your elbow when the train stopped so you didn't fall or hurt yourself. You brought the phone back to your ear and answered, "Hey, I'm okay. The train just stopped."

"What happened?"

The intercom began relaying an emergency message, telling people to stay in their seats and wait for the train to start back up again.

You replied, "It's the snow. The train is just waiting it out I guess."

"Should I come to get you?"

"No, there's no point. I'm in the middle of town, nowhere near a station. They probably won't let us off."

"But you are going to a station?" He asked, pushing for more information. "Which one? I'll send a driver to pick you up and take you home."

"Magnolia station. It's ten minutes away from where I am, at least, when the train starts back up again."

"There'll be a driver there waiting for you when you get there."

You were so thankful -- for your father and for the feeling in your chest to call him. You would've been stuck at the other station or hiking to Eclair's for hours without his offer.

"Thank you, you really don't have to go to the trouble, but that you anyway. I really do appreciate it."

Another sigh, but this one sounded like a sigh of relief. "Of course (Y/N). I can't have my only child freezing to death in the middle of nowhere."

You grinned. "Yeah, that would be bad."

~~~

You called Eclair after your conversation with your father. Through a lot of static, she told you she was closing the bakery for the day and that she would see you in a week. She sounded like she was sleeping or had just woken up. So much for going into work.

You tried getting a hold of Sting again and it went to voicemail once more. Four more times and the same outcome.

The anxiety was building up in your chest. Why wasn't he answering? Was he really at work? Or stuck somewhere? What if his phone was dead? You wanted to call everyone he knew. At least get a hold of his coworkers... if you had their numbers. You still haven't properly met any of them.

He shouldn't be out there on his own. He should be with you, safe in your arms.

You dialed again and got the same ending.

Where the Hell is Sting Eucliffe?