I nodded my head. "Okay, then I have one very important question," and I think I stopped breathing before I asked, "are you a street fighter?"

"No." He said sincerely and I let my breath out in relief.

"I'm an underground fighter."

"Oh what the fuck."

"Look I only came here because I had nowhere else to go. Tate's out of town, I usually crash at his place if it goes bad. If I go home like this my aunt Sofie would have a heart attack."

"You're about to give me a heart attack."

He looked at me for a second, "does it really surprise you?"

"No." I said honestly. "How long have you been involved with all of this?"

"Too long," he almost whispered and then continued, "my dad's been training me since I was a kid Ada, but I didn't start actually start fighting in the ring until a year ago."

"Why a year ago?"

"Things changed." He said vaguely.

I glared at him, "you say that too much."

"I'm just not ready to talk about that yet." he replied quietly after a moment.

"Okay, that's fair," and it was, because he already shared something that was a big part of him, "but Tristan I want you to know that you can talk to me... about anything. I'll always be here to listen."

"Just like when we were kids." He said thoughtfully.

"Just like that." I confirmed, and I meant it whole heartedly.

"Anyway, you can take my bed tonight, i'll set up on the floor.

"No." Grumpy Tristan has entered the chat.

"Tristan you can't just tell me no. You're injured, you need a comfortable nights rest. Take my bed."

"No," he repeated, "I'll be fine on the floor. I just need extra blankets and a pillow."

I huffed in annoyance but he wouldn't let me argue it. He refused to let me sleep on the floor.

I got up and brought him three blankets, two thick ones to stack on top of each other for a mattress and the third for him to keep warm. I set it up on the floor and dropped a pillow to complete his bed for the night.

Then I looked at my pillow on my bed and back at his pillow on the floor. And then I decided to switch them out because mine was fluffier.

I did not react to his accusatory face and thankfully he didn't say anything. If he wasn't going to let me give him my bed, he can at least take my favorite pillow.

I went over to the vanity chair and helped him out of his seat, placing his arm back over my shoulders. He grunted and moved heavy, using me as a crutch. Then when we got to his temporary bed, I accidentally dropped him.

Like literally dropped him. Like he went down with a whole ass thump.

Not only that, but the weight shift knocked me over with him and my entire upper body landed right on his bruised torso. He almost yelped out loud, but I threw my hands over his mouth to muffle the volume. I immediately sat myself up next to him and waited.

When I was confident that no one was awoken from the noise, I looked down and started pouring out apologizes, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I did not mean to drop you like that are you okay? Should I get you more ice?"

"Nah," he said, and his voice was airy as he struggled to breathe again, "nah I'm good."

And then I couldn't help it. It was awful, but I really couldn't help it. I started laughing.

The harder I tried to stop the harder I would laugh. I looked at the glare on his face and I laughed even more, covering my mouth to keep from making too much noise.

"are you laughing at me?"

I nodded my head because I couldn't speak.

He lifted his head to grab the pillow from under it and smacked me upside the head with it. I was actually impressed with his ability to do that with a bruised torso.

I laughed some more as he moved the pillow back under his head, and Tristan rolled his eyes at me, but I could see he was trying to hide a smile with his own.

When I finally settled down, I climbed into my bed and turned the lamp off.

"You good down there?" I asked him quietly in the dark.

"Yeah."

I was drifting off in the silence before I heard his voice again. "Hey, Ada?"

"hm?" I said sleepily.

"You were right and I lied. This is uncomfortable as fuck."

My sleepiness dissipated for the moment as I laughed for the second time that night, still doing my best to stay quiet. It was a short laugh though as I thought of the only possible solution since he wouldn't want to switch places with me.

"Get up here then dummy," I whispered.

He didn't say anything for a while and I thought maybe he fell asleep instead. Then when I heard him slowly pick himself off the floor and struggle to walk his way over, I realized my dumbass probably should have helped him off the floor.

He made his way here though and I felt the bed dip as he rolled into the covers. I scooted myself over so he could re-adjust his pillow and fit comfortably beside me.

I shook off the thought of wanting to be closer to him, considering his entire body was practically bruised. Instead, I just adjusted myself to get more comfortable. Only, in my movement, my hand accidentally brushed against his. The abruptness of it caught me off guard for just a second, but I managed to snap out of it. It was only his hand after all.

Yet when I moved my hand out of his way, he reached for it again, hugging his large fingers over my palm and guiding it back to where it was. As he held my hand in between us, I felt him brush his thumb over the ridges of my knuckles and I think I blushed in the dark. It was ridiculously relaxing though and the heavy comfort of sleep influenced me once more.

"Hey, Ada?" I heard him whisper again and I smiled through the grogginess.

"Hey, Tristan?"

"Thanks for letting me stay."

"Mhmm," I half replied before I finally let sleep take over.

———————————

The next morning I woke up to an empty bed. I looked around and found Carson's extra clothes folded and placed on top of the extra blanket I had gotten for Tristan. He must have snuck back out of the window while I was sleeping.

There was also a piece of paper on my dresser with his handwriting sprawled out. Thanks again, see you Monday.

A smile crept on my face at his small note before I got out of bed to get myself ready for the day.

✨✨