why can't i be nic cage

turntechgodbitch:

wishiwasnicolascage:

“Dave, you don’t have to baby me. I’ll be fine.”

He turns on the T.V. and adjusts himself on the couch.

“You seem more shaken up about than me.” He stops on some random channel, some stupid cooking show playing. There was nothing else on.

“If it’ll make you feel better, you can come cuddle with me again.” 

“I’m not shaken up. Why are you watching Paula Deen? She’s the antichrist.” Her sentence is punctuated with the closing of her bedroom door, and a few moments later, she reappears bare-footed and in gray sweatpants. She retrieves the bowl of gummy bears from the fridge and curls up on the couch, holding a handful of the spiked gummies toward John.

“Try ‘em.”

“There’s nothing else on. Where are the movies we rented?”

John takes the gummy bears from Dave, popping one into his mouth. The taste is strong and more vodka than gummy bear so John makes a face. 

turntechgodbitch:

wishiwasnicolascage:

John presses down on the inhaler and inhales, holding his breath so the medicine would get into his lungs. He repeats that a few more times and relief washes over him. 

He stands up and grabs Dave shoulder to steady himself, still little shaky from the scare.

After a few minutes, he takes another puff of medicine to be safe.

“Thanks Dave. Hope I didn’t scare you too much…”

John laughs awkwardly.

“You did. Shit, Egbert, I didn’t want your death on my hands after seeing each other for the first time in years. You alright?” She holds John by the elbow, supporting him as she leads him to the apartment (the door left agape in Dave’s hurry) and practically pushes him down onto the couch.

“Sit. I’m gonna put the food away, and we can get around to pizza and stuff later. Take it easy, kid.”

She can feel it—the sensation as though her heart will beat its way out of her chest. With the freezer door open and blocking John’s view of her, she lets out a deep breath, shaking her head quickly and letting the cold air wash over her. A moment passes, and regrettably, Dave stacks the ice cream cartons and shuts the freezer.

“Dave, you don’t have to baby me. I’ll be fine.”

He turns on the T.V. and adjusts himself on the couch.

“You seem more shaken up about than me.” He stops on some random channel, some stupid cooking show playing. There was nothing else on.

“If it’ll make you feel better, you can come cuddle with me again.”