Born To Be Yours || Part 8
Summary: In the wake of tragedy, your boyfriend attempts to give you space and love all in one breath, met with mixed feelings.Â
AN: Okay, so i know itâs been forever. And Iâm not totally in love with this story the way I used to be, and I need ideas. If you want to see this story move forward, give me some feedback and ideas. Otherwise, this is the last chapter. Also, I have a new video up for Stan Lee. My heart is sad. I hope you enjoy this chapter.Â
Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6Â || Part 7
It took weeks for me to gain back enough strength to simply walk around the house. While I was physically okay, my emotions and mind had been taken ahold of by my anxiety and fear. I had nightmares every night, and was eventually awoken by Chris who cradled me until I went back to sleep. But sleep no longer came easily. I didnât want to see the images behind my eyelids. I tried keeping busy. Still writing, and picking up hobbies and focusing on Chris and Jack, rather than my own problems. I cleaned Chrisâs house everyday thoroughly, not wanting to be still with my own thoughts. I never sat still and quiet. Thatâs when the fear tried choking me.
âSo the premiere for Guardians is in a couple weeks.â Chris said one night as he ate the spaghetti I had prepared. I nodded, quiet. My humor had faded as well. A cracked smile would sometimes appear, but not often. I looked down at my food, not wanting to know what Chris was trying to ask me. âY/N,â He said, putting his fork down and grabbing my hand, softly. âI want you to go with me. To stand by my side as mine.â I stiffened at his touch, not because I didnât welcome it, but because the idea of being in front of all those people and cameras nauseated me. I shook my head, standing and taking my plate to the sink.
âI really donât think thatâs wise right now, Chris.â I said softly, my back turned to him. I heard his chair scoot back as he stood, coming up behind me. He wrapped his arms around my waist, resting his head on my shoulder.
âItâs been two months since the incident.â He said quietly. I tensed at the mention of that day, but Chris continued. âYou are so strong and deserve to show the world just how strong and amazing you are.â I untangled myself from him, not interested in this conversation.
âIâm fine where Iâm at right now.â I said, cleaning the table off and trying to avoid eye contact.
âNo, youâre not.â Chris said, so quietly I almost missed it. I straightened.
âExcuse me?â I questioned.
âYouâre not okay.â Chris said again, more confident now. âYou stay here all day, cleaning and cooking and sometimes writing but never leaving. And I know itâs not because you have this overwhelming desire to be a housewife, because I can see you light up when you write, even though you havenât in ages.â His voice wasnât cruel, but I could feel the tears stinging the back of my eyes. âI want you back, Y/n. The old you.â
I looked up at him, shocked by the sadness in his face.
âI donât know how to return to that person.â I said, my voice breaking and the tears rolling down my face. Chris closed the gap between us and I sobbed into him.
âYou donât have to do it alone.â He whispered into my hair. âWeâre in this together.â
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