Petty Thief of My Heart
Hadley drives his sword through the final doomstalker’s gut before throwing it to the ground in anger. He looks back at Sammy, the only other member of their crew who got stuck with him when the wall to this tunnel collapsed, blood seeping through the rough fabric of his shirt.
“What’d you have to do that for, Luscoe?” Hadley grumbles, marching over to him and crouching to take a better look at the wound. “You ran into a doomer nest with a fucking dagger.”
“To be fair, Edwin, it’s a cursed dagger,” Sammy says, struggling to laugh it off as another of his quirky mishaps. “I thought it would do more damage.”
Hadley’s frown deepens and he shakes his head as he tears open Sammy’s shirt. He has to make sure the cut is clean enough that a simple Potion of Health will do. He worries it might be too deep, that the infuriating man will die if they can’t get to an actual Healer soon.
Sammy may be nothing more than a petty thief, but the boss chose him for their team, and Hadley has to respect that. Besides, as obnoxious as he may be, Hadley has no desire to see Sammy die. Not in a doomstalker cave. Not now. Not after everything they’ve been through.
The Potion of Health works quickly, though, and Hadley watches the gash in Sammy’s torso close right before his eyes.
“Thank fuck,” he mutters, running a hand through his already disheveled hair.
“And thank you,” Sammy says with an easier laugh, though his breathing is still a bit ragged and it undercuts his cavalier tone.
Hadley grunts in frustration and stands, surveying the area around them. A dozen scattered doomstalker corpses and no way out, except to climb the wall. He doesn’t think Sammy is in a state to manage such a climb right now, if he ever could.
The immediate panic that had gripped Hadley’s chest when the doomer’s claw impaled his traveling companion has somewhat dissipated, but the anger at Sammy’s reckless behaviour is still churning in his stomach.
Sammy always gets himself into these situations, and Hadley always has to get him out of them. It’s enough to drive a man insane.
“Help a fellow up?” Sammy says with a smirk, holding one arm up and gripping his side with the other.
With a sigh, Hadley reaches out for his arm and yanks him to his feet, but doesn’t let go.
Sammy doesn’t seem to notice Hadley’s vise-grip on his arm as he stares up at the cave opening above them. “I guess we have to climb, then—” he says, but Hadley gives him a shove and pins him against the wall of stone behind him.
“Don’t you ever get yourself hurt like that again,” Hadley says, glaring him down.
Sammy’s eyes widen, and he doesn’t bother with a smart remark this time. “I won’t!” he says. “I know you hate me and this must be—”
“I don’t hate you.” Hadley’s voice softens ever so slightly, easing his grip on Sammy’s arm that’s now wedged between them. “I could never hate you.”
Kissing Sammy, finally, feels like the first breath Hadley has taken in a long time.
— Excerpt from “Petty Thief of My Heart” by @HadTrash93