#ok ok the cheesy tagline aside | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

movingmusically · 1 month ago

Text

Caught Feeling - Chapter 4

Synopsis:

A quiet evening together strengthens the bond between y/n and Hank, but when their bowling date takes an unexpected turn and ends at the hospital, y/n realises their growing connection may be more unpredictable than she imagined.

Word Count: 5,434

Masterlist

After dinner, we were both too full to move, lounging on the couch with the remnants of takeout scattered on the coffee table. I reached for the remote, scrolling through the endless list of movie options while Hank stretched out beside me, his leg brushing lightly against mine as he settled in, looking completely at ease.

“You really want to watch that?” I teased, pausing on an old action flick that looked like it hadn’t aged well, judging by the grainy cover and outdated tagline.

“Don’t knock it till you try it,” Hank grinned. “You’d be surprised how much heart these movies have.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at my lips. “Right. ‘Heart’ hidden under explosions and cheesy one-liners?”

“Exactly,” he said, giving me a playful nudge with his knee. “The explosions are just a bonus.”

I laughed, sinking a little deeper into the cushions. “Fine, I’ll let you pick next time. But tonight, we’re watching something with an actual plot.”

As I scrolled through more titles, Hank leaned in slightly, his hand lightly grazing my knee. “Alright, I’ll bite. What kind of movies are you into? Aside from ‘actual plot,’ of course.”

I grinned, feeling comfortable enough to reveal just how varied my tastes were. “I love Horror, Thriller, Fantasy… but I’m a sucker for a good Comedy too. And every once in a while, I’ll go for a Romance or Drama.”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “You’re into Horror and Comedies? You’ve got range.”

“Why does that surprise you?”

“I don’t know,” he said, smirking. “I just wouldn’t have pegged you for a Horror fan.”

“Oh, I love them,” I said, grinning. “The scarier, the better. But Thrillers? That’s my sweet spot. I love the suspense, the tension—it’s addictive.”

“Interesting,” he said, clearly impressed. “I’m more of an Action and Comedy guy, but I don’t mind the occasional Romance. Gotta mix it up sometimes.”

“Sure, sure,” I teased. “I bet your idea of ‘mixing it up’ still involves a lot of car chases and shootouts.”

Hank laughed, nudging me gently. “Maybe. What about all-time favourites? If you had to pick your top three.”

“That’s tough,” I said, pausing for a moment. “But I’d say Jurassic Park, Jaws, and Lord of the Rings. Those are classics I could watch over and over.”

He nodded in approval. “Solid choices. I respect that. I’m more into Die Hard and Lethal Weapon, though.”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “OK, important question for you.” I leaned closer, a playful challenge in my tone. “Would you say that Die Hard is a Christmas movie?”

His grin turned mischievous. “No, it just happens to take place at Christmas.”

I gasped, pretending to be scandalised. “How dare you? Die Hard is definitely a Christmas movie!”

Hank looked amused. “Just because it’s set at Christmas doesn’t make it a Christmas movie.”

“Yes, it does!” I shot back. “Bruce Willis saves Christmas, Hank. It doesn’t get more Christmas than that.”

“We’re going to have to agree to disagree on this one,” he said, shaking his head with a laugh.

“I’ll convince you one day,” I said, grinning back.

“I’m looking forward to it,” he teased. I raised an eyebrow but couldn’t help the grin tugging at my lips.

He leaned in a little closer, eyes still gleaming with amusement. “So, what else do you love that I should know about?”

“I’ve got a soft spot for war and gangster movies too,” I said, enjoying his reaction.

Hank’s eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? That I didn’t see coming.”

I smiled, leaning back against the couch. “Yeah, Goodfellas is one of my favourites. I watched it with my Mum and Dad growing up.”

“Goodfellas?” he repeated, clearly impressed. “That’s a bold pick. You’ve got taste.”

“Bold, but true,” I said. “And my Dad? Total Arnold Schwarzenegger fan. We used to have movie marathons—Terminator, Predator… you name it.”

“You’re full of surprises,” he said, a grin spreading across his face. “I never would’ve guessed.”

I shrugged with a small smile. “I’ve got layers.”

He glanced at the remote, then back at me. “Well, since you’re already a fan of Die Hard, I think we’ve found our movie for tonight.”

I raised an eyebrow but couldn’t help the grin tugging at my lips. “Fine. But only because it’s my favourite Christmas movie.”

“Exactly,” Hank said with a wink as he hit play.

As the familiar opening sequence of Die Hard rolled across the screen, I sank back into the couch, resting my head on Hank’s shoulder. His arm slid comfortably around me, and I could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest as we settled in. It felt easy being close to him, like this was something we’d done a thousand times before, even though it was still new.

Halfway through the movie, between Bruce Willis’ quips and the explosions on-screen, Hank shifted slightly, his voice low as he spoke.

“You know, we should do something fun this weekend,” Hank said casually, his voice soft against the low hum of the TV. He was playing with a loose strand of my hair, and his relaxed tone made the idea sound spontaneous, like he’d just thought of it in the moment.

I tilted my head up to look at him, intrigued. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

He shrugged, but there was a playful glint in his eyes. “I don’t know. Maybe go see a movie? Or we could do something active… like bowling.”

I grinned at the suggestion, instantly imagining the disaster that would follow. “Bowling? I should warn you—I’m not just bad, I’m the worst. Ever.”

Hank’s smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Worst ever, huh? I find that hard to believe.”

“No, really. I’m talking gutter balls. Every. Single. Time.”

He raised an eyebrow, the challenge clearly sparking something in him. “Well, now I have to take you. I’ll teach you how it’s done.”

I let out a laugh, nudging him playfully. “Oh, I see. You want to show off?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You got me. But come on, it’ll be fun. Worst-case scenario, you’re terrible, and I get to give you a hard time about it. Best-case scenario, you impress me.”

“I won’t,” I said, grinning. “But I’ll take you up on the challenge anyway. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I’m up for the challenge,” he said confidently. “Besides, how bad could you really be?”

I shot him a mock glare. “You’re underestimating how bad I am. Like, genuinely embarrassing bad.”

Hank laughed, his chest vibrating beneath my head. “I’m looking forward to seeing it.”

I rolled my eyes, settling back into his side. “Well, when you’re done laughing at me, I’ll just kick back and let you win.”

“You’re not off the hook that easily,” he teased, leaning down to press a kiss against my temple. “I’ll get you a strike by the end of the night. Even if I have to guide your hand.”

I laughed at the thought. “If you can do that, I’ll buy you dinner.”

“Deal,” he said, his grin widening. “You better start thinking of which fancy restaurant you’re taking me to.”

I relaxed against him, already picturing the disastrous but fun night out. Hank’s enthusiasm for the challenge was contagious, and I couldn’t help but be excited, even though I knew I’d probably end up embarrassing myself. It struck me how easy it felt to make plans with him, like we’d been doing this for longer than just a few days.

Just as I was about to suggest another potential plan for the weekend, Hank’s phone buzzed on the coffee table. He reached for it, glancing at the screen. His relaxed expression shifted ever so slightly—something that made his brow furrow for a split second before he quickly masked it.

“Everything okay?” I asked, lifting my head to study his face, curious but not overly concerned.

He sighed lightly, locking the screen and setting the phone back down on the table. “Yeah, it’s just work. They need me to cover a shift tonight.”

I could hear the subtle shift in his tone, a mix of frustration and responsibility. He clearly wasn’t thrilled about the idea of leaving, but I knew from the way his brows furrowed that he felt like he had to go.

“You don’t have to go, do you?” I asked softly, not wanting to sound needy but also not exactly ready for him to leave.

Hank leaned back, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully. “No, I don’t have to, but… they’re short tonight, and I know Yvonne’s been dealing with a lot of the busy shifts lately. I’d feel bad leaving her to handle it on her own.”

“Yvonne?” I asked.

He nodded, his expression still relaxed but distant. “Yeah, she works at the bar too. She’s been picking up a lot of shifts since one of the other guys quit. It’s been pretty hectic.”

I tried to keep my tone light, not wanting to pry too much. “Sounds like things are pretty crazy at work.”

“Yeah,” Hank said with a slight smile, but I could tell his mind was elsewhere now. “It’s been busy, but it’s manageable. I just didn’t expect to be called in tonight, especially since I was hoping to spend the night with you.”

There was a sincerity in his words that made my heart flutter, and I could tell he wasn’t just saying it to be polite. He genuinely wanted to stay, and for a moment, I considered telling him not to go. But I didn’t want to be the reason he felt guilty about leaving his coworkers hanging.

“Go,” I said, offering him a reassuring smile. “If they need you, you should go. We’ll have other nights.”

Hank met my gaze, and for a moment, it seemed like he was debating whether to argue. But then he smiled, soft and warm. “You sure?”

I nodded. “I’m sure. You can make it up to me this weekend.”

His eyes brightened at that. “Definitely,” he said, his hand brushing a strand of hair away from my face. “I’ll make it up to you.”

I laughed softly, leaning into his touch. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Hank stood, stretching slightly before grabbing his phone and jacket, but his eyes lingered on me for a moment longer.

I stood too, and he stepped closer, wrapping his arms around my waist. He paused for a moment, his eyes searching mine before he lifted a hand to gently cup my face. Then, he leaned in and kissed me. It was simple, unhurried, but full of warmth.

When he pulled back, there was a softness in his eyes, and I found myself smiling up at him, wishing the night didn’t have to end.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said softly, his voice warm and steady. I smiled, standing there for a second longer. He stepped back reluctantly, and I followed him to the door, watching as he slipped on his shoes. It felt like we were both silently holding onto the night, neither of us wanting it to end. But reality had other plans, and before I knew it, he was opening the door, pausing to give me one last smile.

“Goodnight, y/n,” he said softly, his voice carrying a promise of more moments like this.

“Goodnight, Hank,” I replied, my heart doing that little flutter it always seemed to do around him.

He left, the door closing softly behind him, and I stood there for a second, listening to the sound of his footsteps retreating down the hall. The apartment suddenly felt too quiet, the absence of his presence leaving a hollow kind of stillness in the air. I sighed, turning back toward the couch. The movie was still playing, but my mind was far from it.

I flopped back onto the cushions, staring at the screen but not really paying attention. My thoughts drifted to Hank, the way his eyes lit up when he talked about the future, even if it was just about something as simple as bowling.

And then there was that text from Yvonne. It wasn’t a big deal. Work was work, after all. Hank had a job, and I knew what the service industry was like—unpredictable hours, people needing shifts covered last minute. I shook my head, brushing the thought away. There was no point in overthinking it. He was just doing his job, nothing more.

Still, the flicker of disappointment lingered as I grabbed the remote and turned off the TV. I glanced at my phone, half-hoping for a message from him already, but of course, there was nothing. He’d barely been gone for ten minutes.

I stretched out on the couch, letting the quiet of the apartment settle around me. As much as I wanted to distract myself, my thoughts kept circling back to Hank. The way he’d opened up to me tonight, the ease of our conversation, the comfortable silence that followed. It felt… real. Like we were building something more than just a casual fling.

I smiled to myself, hugging a cushion to my chest as I thought about the plans we’d made for the weekend. I was already looking forward to it.

The next day at work, I found myself replaying moments from last night more times than I cared to admit. Between patient check-ups and scribbling notes into charts, my mind kept drifting back to Hank. His smile, the way his hand had brushed against mine as we joked about Die Hard, and the playful challenge in his eyes when he suggested bowling.

I wasn’t used to feeling this… giddy. Like a teenager with a crush. But I couldn’t deny how much I enjoyed it.

The next few days flew by, punctuated by Hank’s texts that never failed to bring a smile to my face. Each message was like a little nudge, reminding me of our budding connection and the easy banter that had become a highlight of my day.

My phone buzzed in my pocket just as I was finishing up a routine exam on a tabby cat. I eagerly pulled it out, my heart lifting as I read his latest message.

Hey. Still ready for our little bowling disaster tomorrow? ;) I’ve already started looking up fancy restaurants for the victory dinner after I get you that strike.

I bit back a laugh, quickly typing out a reply as I stepped out of the exam room.

You’re really confident, huh? You think you can work miracles?

His reply came almost instantly.

Don’t worry, it’s not a miracle—just skill. See you tomorrow?

I smiled at my phone, excitement buzzing through me.

See you tomorrow.

As I tucked my phone back into my pocket, the flutter of anticipation for tomorrow’s challenge made the rest of the workday feel like a breeze.

The day of our bowling date arrived with a sense of something imminent and thrilling. It felt like stepping into a scene I had replayed in my mind a thousand times, each replay slightly different from the last, anticipation building with each iteration.

I chose my outfit with more thought than usual, opting for comfort yet wanting to look good for whatever the evening might throw at us. Settling on a pair of well-fitting jeans and a soft, fluttery top that I knew flattered my figure, I left my hair down, hoping the curls would hold through the night.

By the time I got to the bowling alley, I was half-excited and half-dreading the inevitable disaster that was about to unfold.

Hank was already waiting by the entrance when I arrived, his grin spreading across his face as soon as he saw me. He was dressed casually, in a faded orange tee layered over a long-sleeve white shirt, paired with rugged green cargo pants—perfect for a laid-back evening but stylish enough to show he’d made an effort.

“Ready to embarrass yourself?” he asked, that familiar spark of challenge in his eyes.

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at my lips. “I’m warning you now—this is going to be bad. Like, really bad.”

Hank chuckled, slipping his arm around my waist as we headed inside. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you look good out there.”

The energy of the bowling alley hit us as soon as we walked through the doors. The clattering of pins echoed in the background, and the warm scent of fried food mingled with the polished wood of the lanes. Hank grabbed our shoes from the counter, handing mine over with a smirk.

“You’re about to witness true talent,” he teased, lacing up his bowling shoes. His eyes glinted with challenge, and I couldn’t help but feel the spark of competition light inside me, even though I knew I had zero chance of winning.

I raised an eyebrow as I slipped on my shoes. “Talent? We’ll see about that.”

We found a lane near the back where it was quieter, and Hank took his position, confidently selecting a ball like he was a pro. He rolled it effortlessly down the lane, and naturally, it was a strike. The pins crashed, and Hank turned to me with a cocky grin.

“Alright, show-off,” I muttered, but I couldn’t help smiling.

“Let’s see what you’ve got,” he said, leaning casually against the ball return as I approached the lane.

I selected a ball, already feeling the weight of failure pressing down on me. With a deep breath, I gave it my best shot, releasing the ball with a prayer… and watched it veer straight into the gutter.

Hank let out a deep laugh that filled the air, and I turned back to face him with a sheepish smile. “Okay, so maybe I wasn’t kidding about being terrible.”

“You weren’t lying,” he teased, coming over to stand beside me. “But don’t worry, I’ll help you. I’m not just a bowling master; I’m also a teacher.”

“Oh, how generous of you,” I laughed.

He stood behind me, guiding my hands as I gripped the ball again. His hands settled on my shoulders as he adjusted my stance, his voice low as he murmured instructions. “Relax your shoulders. Focus on your target. Don’t overthink it.”

His proximity sent a shiver down my spine, but I managed to focus long enough to send the ball rolling down the lane. It teetered dangerously close to the gutter again but stayed just inside the line, knocking down a few pins.

“Hey, progress!” Hank cheered, high-fiving me. “Next time, we’ll get you that strike.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a little thrill of victory. “At this rate, you’ll have me competing in leagues.”

We took turns after that, the lighthearted competition between us growing with each round. Hank was obviously better than me—every shot he took seemed effortless—but I wasn’t doing as badly as I’d expected.

Finally, after a few more rounds, it happened.

I rolled the ball, holding my breath as it glided smoothly down the lane. One by one, the pins toppled over, and before I even realised it, they were all down. I blinked, staring at the empty lane in disbelief.

“You did it!” Hank exclaimed, grabbing me around the waist and spinning me in the air, his excitement almost infectious.

I laughed, feeling a rush of triumph. “I actually did it!”

“You owe me dinner,” he said with a wide grin, setting me back down.

“Fair enough,” I replied, breathless but happy. “So, where are we going?”

His hand lingered on my waist for a moment longer before he pulled away. “It’s a surprise,” he said, “But I think you’ll like it.”

We grabbed our things, leaving the bowling alley behind as the excitement of the evening still buzzed between us. There was something about the ease of the night, the way we slipped into this playful, carefree rhythm with each other, that made it feel like we’d known each other forever.

Outside, the night greeted us with a soft breeze, the distant hum of the city filling the silence between us. Hank reached for my hand, his fingers lightly intertwining with mine. I glanced over at him, smiling as we strolled down the street together, curious about the mystery spot he had in mind for dinner.

We meandered through the city, the lively energy of the evening palpable as people dined and laughed around us. Hank’s steps seemed purposeful yet relaxed, and his hand felt warm in mine. As we approached a colourful, somewhat eclectic-looking place with a neon sign proclaiming “Lucky’s Brew & Q,” my curiosity piqued.

“This place is a bit of a local legend,” Hank said with a grin, pushing open the door to a buzz of activity and a mix of aromas that promised good food and a great time.

Inside, the decor was a vibrant collage of vintage signs, quirky artwork, and strings of lights that cast a cheerful glow over the wooden tables. The chatter of patrons and the clinking of glasses added to the lively atmosphere, making it immediately welcoming.

“Lucky’s is famous for their craft beers and killer BBQ,” Hank explained as we found a spot at a rustic bar table. “It’s laid-back but always a lot of fun.”

The menu was a delight of comfort foods, featuring everything from spicy buffalo wings to loaded nachos and slow-cooked ribs. We ordered a pitcher of their house craft beer and a mix of finger foods to share, keeping the mood light and carefree.

As we sipped our beers, I took a moment to glance around the busy bar, noting it was a typical bustling Saturday night elsewhere in the city. Intrigued, I turned back to Hank. “So, it’s Saturday night and Lucky’s is packed. I’m surprised they didn’t need you at the bar tonight, especially since you mentioned being short-staffed.”

Hank nodded, his expression mingling gratitude with a hint of worry. “Yeah, it’s been a rough couple of weeks. We’re short-staffed since one of the bartenders quit. Yvonne’s been picking up a lot of slack, and normally, I would have had to help out.” He took a slow sip of his beer, his gaze lingering on the glass as he set it down. “But I talked to my manager Edwin earlier this week, made it clear I needed tonight off. Took a bit of negotiating and promising to cover some extra shifts next week.”

“That sounds tough, always having to balance things like that,” I said, my tone soft, empathetic to the strain such a situation must place on him.

“It’s part of the gig,” he shrugged slightly, but his smile returned quickly. “But it’s worth it, especially for nights like this.” His hand found mine across the table, giving it a gentle squeeze, his warmth reassuring.

“I’m glad you did. It’s been a great night,” I smiled, squeezing back, appreciating the effort he made to make our evening together possible.

The food was delicious—messy and rich with flavours. We challenged each other to try the spiciest wings, which led to a bout of playful competition as we raced for the cooling relief of our beers. The casual setting felt just right, allowing us to let our guards down and enjoy each other’s company without pretence.

As the evening wound down, the bar began to quiet, and the earlier energy settled into a comfortable hum. Hank glanced at me, a playful yet sincere expression on his face. “I hope this place hit the mark for our victory dinner.”

I laughed, wiping my hands on a napkin. “It was perfect. I couldn’t have asked for a better evening.”

Hank’s smile deepened, and he reached across the table to squeeze my hand. “I’m really glad to hear that. I wanted tonight to feel just right.”

We lingered a while longer at Lucky’s, finishing our drinks and talking about everything and nothing at all. The comfortable ease that had defined our evening was still there, but now it carried a little more weight—something unspoken hanging between us. Hank leaned back in his chair, his gaze soft yet intent as he looked at me across the table.

“You want to grab another drink somewhere? Or…” he trailed off, his eyes flicking to the door, then back to me. His voice softened as he added, “We could head back to my place, or yours. No pressure.”

The way he said it, so casual and sincere, made my stomach flip with both nerves and excitement. There wasn’t any expectation in his tone—just an invitation. The night had been perfect so far, and part of me wanted to keep it going, to see where this connection would take us.

I met his gaze, holding it for a beat longer than necessary, weighing the options. The warmth of the bar, the low hum of conversation around us, and the slight buzz from the drinks all made me feel bold. “Your place sounds good,” I said, my voice steady even though my heart raced.

Hank’s smile widened, not quite a smirk, but something close. He stood up, offering me his hand. “Let’s get out of here, then.”

We stepped outside, the sudden quiet almost jarring after the buzz of the bar. Hank’s hand was still holding mine as we walked, his thumb lightly tracing circles over my skin. The streets were quieter now, the occasional car passing by, but it felt like the city had slowed down just for us.

We were nearing Hank’s building when I heard a scuffling sound from farther down the street, followed by a gruff voice and the unmistakable thud of someone being shoved. I turned my head and saw two figures hunched over someone—an older man, who stumbled backward into a parked car.

“What the hell?” I muttered under my breath, my steps slowing. Hank’s expression darkened instantly. His hand left mine as he picked up his pace, his entire body tensing. “Stay here,” he said firmly, but I didn’t.

As we approached, I got a better look at the scene. The man being pushed around looked dishevelled, his clothes worn and grimy, his face creased with age and weathered by something more. He was trying to stand upright, but it was clear he wasn’t in any shape to defend himself. The two younger men messing with him barely even glanced our way as we came closer, too focused on taunting the helpless man.

“Hey!” Hank shouted, his voice cutting through the noise like a whip. The two men froze for a moment, then turned to face him, eyes narrowing. The taller of the two sneered, clearly unimpressed.

“Mind your business, man.”

“This is my business,” Hank said, stepping between the older man and the two younger guys. His voice was steady, but there was a sharp edge to it. “Leave him alone.”

The second guy, wearing a ratty hoodie, raised his chin defiantly. “Or what?”

I felt my heart hammering in my chest. The last thing we needed was for this to turn into a fight, and Hank wasn’t exactly small, but these two guys looked like they were itching for trouble.

“Or you’re going to regret it,” Hank replied evenly, his posture unyielding. “Just walk away.”

For a moment, no one moved, and I felt my pulse quicken in the silence. But after a tense beat, the taller guy scoffed, nudging his friend. “Whatever, man. Let’s go.”

With one last glance at Hank, they slinked away into the shadows of the street, leaving the older man slumped against the car, groaning softly.

Hank immediately turned his attention to him, crouching down and gently placing a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Jason,” he said quietly, his voice softer now. “You alright?”

I blinked, taking a step closer. “You know him?” I asked, surprised.

“Yeah,” Hank sighed, helping Jason stand upright, though the man was clearly struggling to stay on his feet. “He’s been around the block for years. Jason’s… he’s got a rough life. Drinks a lot, doesn’t really have anyone looking out for him.”

Jason mumbled something incoherent, his eyes glassy, and I could smell the alcohol on him from where I stood. He was in bad shape, bruised from the attack and barely able to hold himself up.

“He needs a hospital,” I said, glancing at Hank.

Hank nodded grimly. “Yeah, we need to get him checked out.”

I quickly pulled out my phone, calling for an Uber. “I’ll get us a ride,” I said as Hank shifted Jason’s weight onto his shoulder, steadying him as best as he could.

Within minutes, the car arrived, and with some effort, we managed to get Jason into the backseat. The driver shot us a wary look but didn’t say anything as we told him to head to the nearest hospital.

The drive to the hospital was quiet, the atmosphere heavy. Jason was slipping in and out of consciousness beside Hank, who kept a close eye on him, holding him upright. I sat in the front seat, casting glances back at them every so often, a knot of worry tightening in my chest.

When we arrived, Hank and I practically carried Jason inside, the nurses at the front desk immediately recognising the severity of the situation. A wheelchair was brought over, and they whisked him away without hesitation.

We found ourselves in the waiting area soon after, the harsh lights of the emergency room flickering overhead. Hank sat beside me, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped together tightly. His face was tense, his mind clearly elsewhere.

I touched his arm gently. “You okay?”

He nodded, though his expression didn’t change much. “Yeah. I just… I hate seeing him like this,” Hank muttered, rubbing his jaw. “Jason’s been living on that block longer than I’ve been around. He’s harmless, but no one really looks after him. I try to keep an eye on him when I can, but…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I should’ve done more.”

“You’re doing what you can,” I said softly. “You helped him tonight. If you hadn’t been there… I don’t even want to think about what might’ve happened.”

Hank let out a long sigh, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly. “I guess. It’s just… it’s tough seeing someone like that. It feels like the whole world’s forgotten about him.”

We sat in silence for a while after that, the hum of the hospital around us filling the quiet. Eventually, a nurse came over to let us know that Jason was stable, but that his condition was a result of years of heavy drinking. They were going to admit him for observation, but it wasn’t his first time here, and it wouldn’t likely be his last.

Hank thanked the nurse, but I could see the worry still etched into his face as we stepped back outside. The night air was cool, a stark contrast to the stuffy warmth of the hospital.

“Do you want to head back to my place?” Hank asked quietly after a moment, his voice subdued.

I thought about it for a second, then nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.”

The ride back to Hank’s was quiet, the earlier buzz of the night replaced by a heavy calm. By the time we got to his apartment, the exhaustion from the night had settled in. Hank unlocked the door, pushing it open, and I followed him inside, both of us moving quietly, still processing everything that had happened.

I sat down on the couch, letting out a long breath as the weight of the evening finally settled over me. Hank disappeared into the kitchen for a moment, returning with two glasses of water.

“Thanks,” I said softly as he handed me one. He sat down beside me, leaning back, his hand finding mine again.

“I’m really glad you were with me tonight,” he said quietly after a few moments of silence. “It… it made everything easier.”

I smiled, squeezing his hand gently. “I’m glad I was there too.”

We stayed like that for a while, the quiet between us comfortable, almost soothing. After everything, there wasn’t much else to say. Eventually, Hank’s arm slipped around my shoulders, pulling me close until we were lying together on the couch, the weight of the night slowly giving way to a shared sense of calm.

And even though the night had taken an unexpected turn, being here with him felt exactly where I was meant to be.

Masterlist

#austin butler #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #austin butler x reader #austin butler x y/n #austin butler x you #caught stealing #caught stealing fic #hank thompson x y/n #hank thompson x you #hank thompson x reader #hank thompson #fan fiction #fiction #fanfic #imagine

25 notes · View notes