pairing: james!cortis x fem!user
summary: when fear convinces you to let go of the person you love most, James refuses to let three months of silence be the thing that breaks you apart.
other notes: angstintofluff! breakup! relationshipissues! sfw! (1.9k) - request!
The thought hadn't arrived all at once.
It hadn't hit you like some dramatic realization where everything suddenly made sense.
A comment section under a video.
A headline written to stir people up.
An article twisting ordinary things into something bigger because apparently normal wasn't interesting enough anymore.
You'd ignored it at first.
Then another one appeared.
Then schedules got bigger.
And suddenly that tiny thought that had once sat quietly in the back of your mind had grown teeth.
Now it sat heavy in your chest and curled around your ribs every time you looked at him.
You sat curled up on the couch, staring at your phone without really seeing it.
Across the apartment James moved around the kitchen comfortably, like he always did.
Like the world wasn't ending.
Like your chest wasn't slowly collapsing inward.
He stood by the counter in grey sweatpants and one of his oversized hoodies, sleeves pushed carelessly to his elbows. His hair was messy from earlier practice, soft strands falling into his eyes every few seconds before he absentmindedly pushed them away.
Humming quietly to himself.
You watched him pour milk into the cup with this ridiculous amount of concentration, eyebrows furrowing like he was solving something important.
He looked so painfully normal.
Because while your brain had been spiraling for weeks, James was still James.
Still smiling at absolutely nothing.
You looked down at your hands.
Your fingers had twisted together so tightly your knuckles were pale.
His response came automatically.
Still facing the counter.
Still stirring his coffee.
The spoon stopped moving.
Not because of the words.
James turned around slowly.
For a second his eyebrows pulled together.
Then he set the mug down without even taking a sip.
He sat beside you on the couch, close enough that your shoulders brushed.
One of his hands found yours immediately.
Just holding them gently between both of his, thumb brushing softly across your skin like he already knew something was wrong.
Your throat suddenly felt dry.
The words suddenly felt enormous.
Like they physically wouldn't fit through your throat.
"I think maybe we should stop."
Didn't even breathe for a second.
You could feel him staring.
Your eyes squeezed shut briefly.
The word barely came out.
Like saying it quietly would somehow hurt less.
Then let out this tiny breath of laughter.
Not because he thought it was funny.
Because confusion had hit him before anything else.
"That's not funny, love."
The smile disappeared immediately.
Actually watched it disappear.
His eyes searched your face slowly.
Some tiny sign that said got you.
And the moment he realized that—
His voice had gone quiet.
The room suddenly felt too warm.
Too full of things neither of you wanted to say.
You had prepared for this.
Days and days of explanations.
Responsible explanations.
Things that sounded mature and selfless and right.
But suddenly every single one felt stupid.
Because James was sitting in front of you looking at you like someone had just pulled the floor out from underneath him.
He sat up straighter immediately.
His hand slipped from yours.
And somehow that hurt more than anything.
"People talk. People get weird and your career matters and I don't want you getting hurt because of me—"
His eyebrows pulled together so quickly it almost looked painful.
He looked genuinely lost.
Like your words weren't making sense inside his head.
"Why now?" he asked quietly.
"It has been like this for a long time."
"I'm trying to protect you."
You looked away immediately.
Because looking at him suddenly hurt.
Because James looked at you like you'd reached into his chest and handed his own heart back to him.
"You've worked years for this."
James almost never yelled.
But hurt sat beneath every word now.
"You think I care more about headlines than you?"
"You think I'd look at you and go yeah okay, never mind?"
Because loving James meant wanting him safe.
Even if safe meant away from you.
Even if it meant hurting yourself first.
"I don't want to be the reason things become harder."
Long enough that the silence started hurting too.
"So your solution is leaving me first."
Somehow he'd said everything you couldn't.
Three months later, you walked out of the studio at almost midnight, exhausted.
Hours of practice had settled deep into your muscles, heavy and dull, and all you could think about was getting home, showering, and disappearing under your blankets for the next twelve hours.
The hallway outside the studio was quiet.
You were halfway through pulling your phone from your pocket when your steps slowed.
James sat against the wall outside.
His legs were stretched out carelessly in front of him, one knee bent slightly. His phone rested loosely in his hand, screen dark, like he'd stopped looking at it a while ago.
His head leaned back against the wall.
Like he'd been waiting for a long time.
Because for a second your brain didn't process it.
Because after three months of not seeing him—
Your heart still recognized him before anything else did.
They found you immediately.
Because he said it so normally.
Like this wasn't strange.
Like you hadn't spent three months pretending not to miss him.
Then looked at you like the answer should've been obvious.
Because what kind of answer was that?
What did he mean you were taking long?
Something changed on his face.
Small enough that anyone else would've missed it.
His eyes dropped immediately.
And suddenly he wasn't looking at you anymore.
The words hit harder than you expected.
Because he didn't sound angry.
Tired in that horrible quiet way that only comes after you've been hurting for too long.
He stood slowly, brushing his hands against his sweatpants.
The silence after that felt enormous.
Cold air slipped through the hallway.
Somewhere far away a door shut.
His eyes stayed on the floor.
His fingers curled slightly at his sides.
Your chest tightened immediately.
Because his voice sounded small.
Smaller than you'd ever heard it.
"I tried giving you space."
Because there wasn't anything happy in it.
It was the kind of laugh people let out when they're trying really hard not to feel something.
"But every time something happened..."
His eyes lifted toward you.
"And every time something good happened—"
His mouth twitched slightly.
"Or something stupid happened—"
"I still wanted to tell you first."
Because suddenly you remembered the messages.
The dog wearing tiny shoes.
You'd thought he was just being James.
You realized those things had never been random.
They had been pieces of his day.
"And every day I kept thinking..."
"How are you doing this?"
"How are you acting like this doesn't hurt?"
Your eyes burned instantly.
Because his eyes looked a little red now.
Because James was standing there trying so hard to act okay.
Trying to stand normally.
Trying to be the same James he'd always been.
But his shoulders looked heavier.
Despite you pushing him away—
He'd still been sitting outside waiting for you.
"You don't have to protect me from being with you."
"You don't get to decide I love you less than all of this."
Because suddenly all the fear you'd been carrying around for months felt unbearable.
You'd spent so long trying to hold everything together that you hadn't realized how exhausted you were.
Your body moved before your brain did.
You stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him.
Like he couldn't believe it.
Like he was scared if he moved too fast you'd disappear.
Then his arms locked around you immediately.
Like he'd spent months holding himself back.
Like he'd been waiting for permission.
His face buried itself into your shoulder instantly and you felt him breathe out against you—
One that sounded suspiciously close to breaking.
His hands slipped underneath your hoodie, flattening against your back just to hold you closer.
Like even that wasn't enough.
His voice came out muffled against your shoulder.
"...Are we still doing this breakup thing?"
You laughed through your tears.
He finally pulled back enough to look at you.
His eyes were still a little red.
Hair falling into his face.
"Three months is too long."
Then he immediately buried his face into your neck again.
Like he physically couldn't help himself.
And for the first time in three months—
You held him back without letting go.
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