You know they are releasing a John wick 4 clip in the next 23 hours. You can release the next chapter along with too....just a suggestion from a fan who finished Find your worth 13th time today.
13 times?? Love that! It's posted! I hope you enjoy :)
There’s a small bruise on John’s hand. He’s sleeping soundly next to you and the early morning sun is starting to shine through the cracks in the curtains.
The bruise is only about the size of a dime and it’s under the knuckle of his ring finger. You keep wondering how he got it as you quietly dress for work. It’s a rare day when John sleeps late and you feel like a voyeur watching him but you can’t look away. He’s gorgeous like this, peaceful and sated. The urge to kiss his lips goodbye is strong but you don’t want to wake him either. He’s been restless lately and he needs sleep.
It crosses your mind more than once, that bruise. And then your thoughts start to spin. You start thinking about all of his scars and how he got them. The people who hurt him and how they’re probably dead. You have to shove the thoughts to the back of your mind, wondering why you’re choosing now to obsess over a small wound. Maybe it’s because John told you he’d come home beat up and it hasn’t happened yet. You’re worried about him and you’re not quite sure how to process it.
Until that night.
John is relaxing on the couch after he seemingly enjoyed the dinner you cooked. Again, you expected him to be bloodied and bruised when he gets home but again, he’s not. He is wearing a suit though and his hair is slicked back when he greeted you. But now he’s loosened his tie and reading one of the heavier books from the coffee table, the one you can’t pronounce the title of and it makes you feel stupid every time you see it. You’ve been meaning to google it but you always forget.
You sit cross legged on the couch and tie your hair on top of your head.
“Oh no.” John closes the book and puts his hand on your knee. “This is never good.”
“What?”
“You have your serious face on.”
“My serious face?” You have no idea what he’s talking about.
“And your hair is up, so that definitely means you have something on your mind.”
You cross your arms over your chest and huff. “Can you not analyze me right now?” He’s being cute and it’s pissing you off. “This is about you.”
“My apologies,” John takes the book and sets it on the coffee table, and then turns to you. “What can I help you with?” How he is always this patient with you, you’ll never know.
You take his hand and tap on the bruise. “Where’d this come from?”
John squints and looks. “Where’d what come from?”
“This bruise.”
John starts to laugh but stops when he sees you’re not smiling. “Honey, I don’t know. I probably knocked my hand on something or I was playing with Pooch.”
You stare at the small dark spot on his skin and feel stupid for overreacting. There’s still an underlying concern though. “I guess… I guess I’m asking because you told me you were going to help Jimmy a few weeks ago and now it’s almost Thanksgiving… I haven’t seen anything.”
“Oh.”
You can tell John feels bad.
“I think it’s starting to get to me…” You pick up his hand and kiss it. “Every day I’m expecting the worst. Or for you not to come home at all.”
John nods, understanding. “Right. I get it.”
“And I’m not saying that I want to leave or anything.” You quickly explain. “I just want to be prepared.”
“So you can stay away?” John guesses. “So you don’t have to see the blood?”
You’re surprised he would ask that and move closer to him. “No way. So I can take care of you. I just don’t know what that looks like.”
“What do you mean?”
You remind yourself that John can’t read your mind. “Remember when I went to the Continental with you? When you got back from… work. I didn’t know what to do. Like, do you want to be alone? Do you not want me to touch you? Kiss you? Maybe you don’t want me to talk. What if I ask a question and you’re not in the mood? What if—”
He hushes you by pressing a finger over your lips. “I think I’m just like everyone else after a long day at work.”
Oh. You think about doing inventory a few days ago at the gas station and the numbers being way off, and you had to stay for a few more hours until you and Carla finally figured it out. How tired and moody you were. “I’m really cranky and don’t want to talk to anyone after a long shift.”
John scoots closer to you and drags a hand up your thigh. “Not even with me?”
You think about John rubbing your feet until you fell asleep on the couch. He knew just how to handle you and didn’t have to ask a ton of questions to figure it out, unlike yourself. But then again, John was married for five years and the only relationship you’ve ever had was with a drunk so it makes sense he knows more than you about this stuff.
Your thoughts drift off to grandma and how she could get really snippy with you after she’d got off of work. How you would be terrified to make any noise when she got home and would lock yourself in your room until the coast was clear. And on other days she was so nice. You never knew what to expect.
“Hon?”
You snap back to reality. “I’d only want to be around you.”
He smiles. “I’d only want to be with you too. And how about if I want to be alone… I guess I would just go to the basement.”
“But sometimes I go down to the basement.”
“Only if I ask you to.”
“That’s true.” You nod slowly. “Okay, that’ll work. Otherwise, you’re up for grabs and I can do what I want with you.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Is that a threat or a promise?”
“Whatever you would like, Mr. Wick.”
Smiling, he looks down and he’s quiet for a few seconds. “I actually had a really bad day today.”
“You worked.” You reach up to touch his slicked back hair. You’re so stupid. You should have realized he could be hurt somewhere other than his face. Now looking closer at his white dress shirt, you see blood mist dotted all over the material.
“I did.”
“And it was awful?” You gape at him with big eyes, not being able to imagine what a really bad day would be like for him.
“It could have gone better.”
Your start searching for more blood or an injury. “But you’re not hurt? Are you?”
“I got thrown down a few stairs.” He says nonchalantly. “But no, I’m okay.”
“Shit, babe. I’m sorry I didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell me?”
He places a gentle kiss along your jaw. “Because when I walked in you were wearing an apron and cooking me a nice dinner. Because you took Pooch on a walk for me when it got late. Because it all went away when you hugged me after I got home.” He smiles, looking shyly down again. “Because you were happy to see me and I didn’t ask for any of it. But I’m so glad I have it. That I have you.”
Stunned, you blink at him. How is he so charming after being tossed down a flight of stairs? You can’t react to anything nice he just said so instead, you ask what else happened.
“I ran out of ammo.”
You take a deep breath and sigh. That’s your worst nightmare for him.
“I took a swing at a guy and I missed. I never miss. And that caused a whole scene at a club so I didn’t get my guy.”
“Oh baby.” Your stomach drops. “I’m so sorry.” You hold his hand and kiss the back of it. “You always get the guy.”
“I was kidding. I got him. Eventually.”
You’re not impressed and push gently on his shoulder. “Of course you did. That doesn’t sound like too bad of a day to me. The bad guy is dead, right?”
He shrugs. “I guess. Pretty sure I gave some innocent people a fright.”
“Do you care about that?” You hope it doesn’t sound too harsh but now you’re wondering.
“I was taught not to but lately I’ve been caring more than usual.” The silence hangs in the air because you let it, knowing he’ll continue when he’s ready. “What if you were at that club today? Someone like you… “
“Someone like me?”
“Sweet… and innocent.”
“I’d have you there to protect me.” You tell him softly. “And girls can be pretty resilient, you know?”
“That’s becoming clearer. I’ve seemed to have forgotten.”
He means it’s been a while since he’s been around a strong woman, like Helen. She was probably a badass. But you don’t want to mention her name. Not right now. This is about you and John. And every day you’re growing more confident in yourself, which you know John can see too.
You pretend to be shocked and start to unbutton his shirt. “How dare you.”
He glances down. “Can I help you ma’am?”
“I want to cuddle with my boyfriend but he’s got something on his shirt.”
You’re able to get the last button unclasped and slide your arms around him before he tackles you to the couch, laying in between your legs. He smells like spice and smoke, a delicious combination that you just can’t get enough of. Your fingernails drag up his back, scratching lightly his skin and he moans in delight. His kisses are slow and deep, teasing your tongue with his and he tastes better than you could ever imagine.
Both of you seem to understand that making out is all it’s going to be right now. Unhurried and comforting, the best pace for John tonight. He keeps one hand on your neck, stroking the loose strands of hair out of the way, and his fingertips pressing warmly at your pulse. You can feel how hard he is for you but he doesn’t seem to want to move. The weight of his body on top of yours makes you feel so safe. He’s heavy and strong, his muscles straining above you as he shifts to be even closer.
He suddenly stops, jolting in pain and before you think that you did something wrong, he smiles down at you. “Hey, I’m fine. Just a little sorer than I thought.”
You lean up to kiss him. “Let me take care of you tonight, Mr. Wick?”
“Hmm…” He fakes thinking about it and you try not to roll your eyes. “Only if you insist, my love.”
Your heart pitter-patters insanely at the word love and that smartass knows he made you speechless.
And you’re lucky because it won’t be the last time.
**
Finals are brutal. You thought you’d be prepared but the number of papers and projects you have due, plus working longer hours than usual, and you’ve recently taken up helping Francis study English… you basically have no time.
You haven’t seen John in a few days and you haven’t really talked to him either, besides the normal texts of keeping each other up to date throughout the day. So when he tells you to come over, you don’t take it as a suggestion and you’re just short of being desperate see him. The sun is warm and bright this afternoon, and for a November day it’s actually not freezing out.
When you pull up into the driveway John motions for you to park behind his car that is pulled outside instead of in the garage. There are buckets of soapy water, rags, and the hose is laying across the lawn.
He bends in for a slow kiss that lasts longer than usual. You put your arms around his shoulders and pull him in for a hug. It’s only been a few days but you missed him so much. You are officially addicted to the taste of his mouth and the withdrawal is impossible to ignore.
“What’s this, a side hustle?” You ask, pointing to the hose and finally letting him go.
“Yeah, I figure the cars could use a good wash while it’s nice out.”
It completely melts your heart that he wants to wash your car too and that’s why he wanted you to come over.
You pick up a rag and twirl it around. “What can I do to help?”
“Nothing.” John smiles and takes the cloth out of your hands. “I got this. I know you’ve had a busy week. Are you tired?”
“Actually I’m on a coffee buzz right now so I’m good.” You tell him as he leans over to fill a bucket. His ass looks so good in those jeans and you can’t help but give it a little squeeze.
His body shoots up in surprise and so does his eyebrows. He looks so shocked you can’t contain your laughter, and you can feel yourself start to blush. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”
“I can see that.” He pretends to be offended but ends up kissing you again. His muscles are powerful under the white Henley that he’s wearing and your hands run down his arms.
“How are you feeling? Did you come across any more flights of stairs?”
He cringes and you know that’s a yes.
“Oh no. How bad is it?”
“Nothing new happened. Just still sore from the other day.”
You stare into John’s eyes and it’s hard to know if he’s telling you the truth because he’s squinting from the sun.
“Can I look?”
John lets out a sigh but you realize he doesn’t want anyone else to watch you check him. The neighborhood is quiet though and yeah, maybe this isn’t the best place but now you’re curious to see how the bruises are healing. You saw them briefly after helping John to bed but that was almost a week ago.
He turns around and you lift up his shift. The worst bruises were dotted along his lower back right above his waistline. And you were right, they don’t look much better.
“Well, I hope you don’t have to work anytime soon.” You tell him, kissing his shoulder blade and lowering his shirt. “It looks painful.”
He doesn’t say anything about work and it makes you wonder. You decide to let it go for now. “Where’s Pooch? He’s not helping?”
“He’s taking a walk with Casey and her dad.” John says and turns the hose on. You get some soap into the buckets and even though John said he doesn’t need the help, of course you do what you can and end up getting water all over yourself. John just laughs at your clumsiness but you can tell he thinks it’s endearing.
“Story of my life.” You sigh at yourself. “Did I tell you about the car wash breaking down last week and the guy who came out to fix it got stuck on the roof?” You tell John the story and he shakes his head in disbelief like he usually does when you’re talking about work. He always says that he never understands how you deal with people all day long.
“Hey there! John!”
You can hear Pooch bark before you see him and shade your eyes just in time as he jumps on your legs.
“Hi guys, how’d the walk go?”
“Good!” Casey skips along the lawn and Pooch chases her. You look down to see muddy paw prints on your jeans. Now you’re a complete mess.
John shakes the hand of who you assume is Casey’s dad. “This is Daniel.” He tells you and then introduces you as his girlfriend. It makes you smile.
“Hi, nice to meet you. Thanks for taking Pooch for John a lot of the time.”
“Our pleasure! Casey just loves him and I don’t have to get a dog.” Daniel says in a half whisper and you laugh. He’s sweating and his face is a little flushed. He seems nervous.
“Well, we really appreciate it.” John says. “We’d like to have you over for dinner sometime as a thank you.”
You hide your surprise at the word “we” and can see that Daniel is intrigued and doesn’t really know what to say. You imagine that John is a mystery to a lot of people and everyone is curious about him. It also looks like Daniel is a little scared of John and keeps his distance.
“Sure, that’d be uh—yeah, really nice. Okay, Cas – we gotta go! See you later, I’m sure!” Daniel grabs Casey’s hand and yanks her down the driveway.
“Was that strange?” John asks and throws the ball for Pooch.
“I don’t know… do you usually talk to him when you drop the dog off?”
“Not really.” John starts washing the car again and then stops to think. “I guess I have showed up to his house a little bloody.” He thinks some more. “And one time I took off my jacket and forgot I still had my holster on.”
“Did you still have guns on it?”
“Just two or three.”
You smile to yourself. “Well, that’s all completely normal. I’m sure the neighbor down the street with a child isn’t concerned at all.”
“Hmm.” John is still processing when you ask another question.
“So, we’d like to invite them over for dinner, huh?”
John’s hair is falling across his eyes and you stop yourself from pushing it away. “Too much?”
“No…” It just made you get the butterfly feeling flooding your stomach again. You have to get some space. “Is it okay if I grab some juice?” You look down at your disgusting shirt and pants. “And maybe I’ll change.”
John hurries to get to the house before you can open the door. “I’ll get it for you.” He gives a small smirk and presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. “And you look absolutely gorgeous like this.”
Blushing, you shake your head. “Lie.”
“Never.” John doesn’t hesitate. “But maybe instead of changing… a shower?”
You smile and run your fingernails through his beard. “I think you read my mind, Mr. Wick.”
The cars don’t get washed until the next day.
**
John had told you a few days ago that he has to work on Thanksgiving too, which makes you relieved and sad at the same time. Relieved because now you don’t have to worry about disappointing him if dinner doesn’t turn out right, and sad because it’s your first holiday together besides that shitty Halloween.
The thing about Thanksgiving being here soon is that Christmas is right around the corner. And you’ve never had to buy anything for a boyfriend before so the whole ordeal is making you quite anxious, probably a lot more than it should be. You’ve been subtly asking a lot of questions and if John notices, he doesn’t say anything. He has a ton of patience just like he usually does and often asks you questions back, but you know it’s not for a sneaky clue to buy a gift. He really wants to know the answers and he always looks at you with interest in his eyes.
It makes you feel a little guilty that learning more about him isn’t your number one priority. But at the same time, you want to get him a great present, damn it. He probably hasn’t had a great Christmas in a while, so if you can give him something just slightly better than a crappy holiday, you’ll be happy. You tell yourself not to compete with anything Helen has done in the past and it doesn’t have to be spectacular. That would be too much pressure. Logically you know that John would never really care what you get him.
You find the best time to ask him questions is just after some teasing and fun in bed, when he’s relaxed with a pillow under his cheek and he can’t stop touching your skin. His hair is a little sweaty and you move it from across his forehead, and then run your fingers over the stubble along his jaw.
There’s a stickiness between your legs and you’ll have to get up soon to wash but for right now you both don’t have to get up early, the dog is passed out in the corner of the room, and your phones are muted. The lights are turned low and there’s nowhere you have to be and there’s nothing you have to worry about. It still amazes you that a killer can make you feel so secure in his arms.
“Is there anything you’re not good at, Mr. Wick?”
“Hmm?” There’s a small smile there that you catch. He’s awake. He’s just being shy.
“There has to be something.”
John keeps his eyes closed but he mumbles a low “mmm” under his breath.
“You can’t be perfect…” Right? “You know all about guns and knives. You know about cars. You know how to fight. You know at least four languages—” John’s eyebrow ticks up. “Five? Six? You know more than six languages? Oh god, you cannot be my boyfriend.”
John laughs and finally opens his eyes. He tickles your side until you settle again. “I’m not a good runner.”
“Really?” That’s surprising. “You have to run a lot being an assassin?”
“Yeah.” John grunts as he sits up. “I can run for a long time, I’m just not really fast.”
You drag your hand up his thigh and press your finger to the raised ridge of a scar. “Do you try to run fast with a knife sticking out of your leg?”
John squirms a little. “No, I usually pull the knife out.”
“Mm hmm.” You try not to roll your eyes. Only John Wick would think he runs slow after he’s been stabbed. “And I’m assuming you have on your suit and dress shoes? When you have to run?”
John blinks slowly, thinking. “I guess that’s true. But I should still be able to go faster.”
“Slow and steady wins the race.” You tell him softly and that earns you a long, deep kiss.
If he only knew how he makes your stomach flip, he’d never let you hear the end of it.
Okay, back to the task at hand. Christmas present. “Have you been binding books lately?”
“A little.” He yawns and closes his eyes again. Well, that doesn’t tell you much.
Your mind races. “I have tomorrow night off. You want me to cook some steak and potatoes?”
“That sounds excellent.”
“Out of everywhere you’ve been, where’s the best food you’ve ever had?”
He doesn’t take any time to think. “Italian is my favorite.”
“Huh. I should’ve guessed that.” He’s always wanting to take you out for pizza or pasta.
John smirks and you gently poke at his ribs. “What’s that look for?”
“Let’s just say you’re not the most observant person I’ve ever met.” He jokes and then kisses you softly. “I guess that’s the one thing you’re not good at.”
You’re fully aware that being unobservant is just one of the things on a very long list you’re not good at. You still pretend to be mad though and lean over the side of the bed and call for Pooch. “It’s daddy’s turn in the doghouse.” You tell him and he just lays back down. John tickles under your knees and you try to wiggle away.
He perches himself on top of you, suddenly serious and his voice low. “Daddy, huh?” Your eyes widen as he laughs. “I’m just kidding.”
“You think you’re so damn funny.” You can’t help but to laugh too.
You realize that you’re so far gone for this man, even if you wanted to pretend and only be interested in getting the perfect gift, you really do want to know every single thing about him.
**
Christmas is not what you expected. Although, you’ve been trying to not have many expectations – it’s something you and your therapist have been talking about lately. Avoiding disappointment is hard to do because all of sudden you have people in your life and how they act is out of your control. It’s confusing because people should still behave in a reasonable way but… does that mean you have to lower your standards? You’ve just learned what you deserve and that you’re worthy of something. The more you think about it, the more it doesn’t make sense.
Of course, the one person who has hardly disappointed you yet has been John.
Thanksgiving was a quiet picnic on the living room floor with grocery store bought foods. It wasn’t bad but it wasn’t great either, and all you thought about is next year and how you want to make John a homecooked meal. You wanted to tell him about it, describe the turkey you want to roast but should you assume you’ll be together next year? Will he still be in your life? You shoved the thought down and tried to enjoy the moment but John must have seen something in your expression. You plastered on a smile until he made you laugh, a real heartfelt laugh, and let it be.
Christmas, on the other hand, is a little different.
You’re not surprised that John didn’t decorate the house. He just doesn’t seem the type to care enough and you were way too busy with work and school, so by the time Christmas Eve came around you finally realized that it could be a little more festive at either of your houses.
Work runs late since you’re the last one here. You offered to close down the gas station because everyone else has family to be with and while you have John… well, is he your family? Okay, too much thinking and too many questions. Just stop.
You feel bad about being tired until you see John dressed in an all black suit with his hair slicked back, looking striking as ever.
“No.” You half whisper before you can stop yourself.
“I’m sorry.” His voice is already that low, deadly tone you’ve become to know so well. “There’s a target… he’s been hard to find.”
“And you found him?”
John nods. “It’s the holiday. I know where his family is. He’ll be with them.”
“Right.” You sigh heavily as you set your purse down on the kitchen counter. You’re slowly beginning to realize that while John was nice enough to try to warn you about some bruises he might show up with, this will always be the case. No warning will be needed again. There’s always a chance he'll be injured the next time you see him. “Should I go home?”
“No.” He says it quickly and before you can blink, he’s standing right in front of you, smoothing his thumb over your chin. “No. Please stay. I shouldn’t be too long. I’m so sorry.”
You pull his arm away and step back. “It’s fine. I understand. I’m tired anyway.”
“Trust me, I wouldn’t be doing this now if I didn’t have to.”
You smile up at him. “Will the world will be a safer place without this guy?”
He nods silently.
“Well then…” You press a kiss to his lips. “Merry Christmas, world. One bad guy down.”
John tilts his forehead to yours and closes his eyes, cupping your cheeks with his hands. “Dinner is in the oven. I lov—I’ll see you soon.”
“Just come back safe.” Please, God, just come home in one piece.
John grabs a long duffle bag you hadn’t seen by the garage door and hauls it over his shoulder. He leaves without another word and you stand alone in silence until Pooch comes off the couch, yawns in your face, and demands to be scratched.
It only takes a few seconds of self-pity for you to realize this is probably the best Christmas Eve you’ve ever had and just because John has to go save the world for a few hours, doesn’t mean anything. He deals with your stupid work schedule all the time. You just wished you would’ve maybe known in advance so the shock didn’t sting so bad. It just makes you happy to have someone in your life who wants to be with you.
Well, maybe this could work to your advantage. You had planned to sneak down to your car once he fell asleep but now you can bring in all of his Christmas gifts without having to be quiet, and maybe set something nice up for him to come home to see.
Quickly, you eat the delicious roast chicken and potatoes John had made. You can tell he spent a lot of time on this dish and wish you could have made it with him, let alone have a nice dinner together.
Not one to be creative, you’re very satisfied with yourself with the few decorations you managed to hang up around the living room. Suddenly you’re nervous that John might not like it, that he might think it’s too much or that you’ve overstepped. Exhaustion trumps overthinking so you decide to screw it and go to bed, and try to wait up for him.
At least, that’s what you tell yourself.
It’s a few hours after midnight when John kisses you awake and whispers, “Merry Christmas.”
You mumble the greeting back and get your bearings, suddenly sitting up straight and turning the bedside table light on.
“You’re back? Are you hurt?”
He doesn’t answer and it takes a few seconds for your eyes to adjust. He is hurt. Really hurt.
John has showered but hasn’t put a shirt on. He’s sitting on the side of the bed in just his boxers.
“Oh god, what happened to you?” You reach for the worst cut and John grabs your hand.
“It’s really not that bad.” He tells you softly, probably knowing you won’t believe him.
You fling the bed covers off and kneel on the bed to start your inspection. He gives up trying to stop you and sighs with contentment, leaning his head back as you thread your fingers through his hair. No blood there. His face has scratches and cuts along his forehead and across the bridge of his nose. A gash on the corner of his lip. His arms are dotted with light bruises now but you know they’ll get darker with time. His knuckles are clotted with blood.
The tattoos aren’t disturbed at all but his chest will have more scars to add to his collection, the longest across his ribcage but it isn’t deep. His kneecaps look swollen and puffy red. You don’t even want to think how they got that way.
“See, I told you it wasn’t that bad.” He says when you’re finished and sit back on the mattress.
“Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
“That’s fair.” He grunts and lays down next to you, clearly in pain as his bones and joints try to function.
“Well? Did you get him?”
He closes his eyes. “Of course.”
“And all of his… helpers? Guards? I don’t even know.”
John tries to smile but it hurts too much. “Yeah.”
There are so many more questions you want to ask but don’t know where to start. “Was it in and out like you thought?”
“Not exactly.” You wait and see if he’ll continue on his own. You don’t want to press too hard. “There might’ve been a car chase. I might’ve gotten hit by a car.”
You smack your forehead in disbelief. Internal bleeding. He totally has internal bleeding and he’s going to die in his sleep.
“Stop overthinking it. I’m fine. It’s not the first time… this has happened.”
You gulp and lay next to him, your eyes glued to his chest to watch him breathe. “Sure. Right. No problem. Shutting up now.”
“Can you get the light?”
You hesitate.
“Honey, I’m fine. I promise.”
You roll your eyes because he can’t see you and lift up to switch off the lamp. Gently, you press your hand on his chest, right over his lungs. It’s decided. After Christmas you’re taking first aid classes, despite your disdain for blood. You’ll get over it.
The next morning you wake up to John staring expectantly at you now.
“How was the chicken?”
A laugh bursts out of you because really? “Really? That’s what you’re asking me right now?”
“Well yeah, that was our Christmas Eve dinner. I wanted it to be good.”
Oh god, this man. You kiss him and help him up, wincing as he grunts and groans in pain. “Merry fucking Christmas.” You tell him sarcastically but at least you’re together.
Both of you wash up and you head downstairs to start breakfast. John takes awhile to get downstairs and you don’t hear anything for a few minutes so you decide to see what he’s doing. He’s standing in the living room just staring at the ceramic jolly Santa statue you put on the coffee table.
His gaze turns to the fireplace where you’ve placed three stockings, two of them stuffed full of presents.
Now, considering how John is beaten up, you feel silly.
“Shit. Yeah, um. Last night I figured why not put some stuff up and then I forgot about it. I can take it down, it’s dumb.”
John is sore but he manages to grab your hand. “Baby, please let me enjoy this. It’s beautiful.”
“You’re beautiful.” You whisper to him. “Even battered and bruised.”
He knows how hard it is for you to tell him such things so he doesn’t make it a big deal. He just squeezes your hand and moves to make a fire. The coffee smells like it’s done and you make two cups. Snuggling on the couch, Pooch joins in for pets after coming in from outside.
There’s a light snow dusting on the bushes and treetops. The sun is trying to break through the clouds but it doesn’t look promising. As far as you’re concerned, it’s the perfect Christmas Day.
John is slightly brooding while he sips his coffee and glares at the ice pack you grabbed for his knees. “This is not the way I thought our first Christmas would go.”
“Oh yeah? Please enlighten me.”
You can’t be certain, but you think John flushes. “Well, I just thought we might...”
“Ah.” Now you understand. You’ve been wondering why John has been evading your advances lately. He wanted it to be special and every time you’ve tried to hint that final step would be okay, he’s on to something else to distract you with… usually his fingers, his mouth, his tongue. It makes you tremble and ache in the best way possible.
“Does um, everything hurt?” You glance down to his crotch and he laughs.
“Maybe I’ll take a few pain pills, huh?”
You smile and don’t bring it up again. You’re not really disappointed and more relieved that the pressure is off.
“Can you open your presents so I can relax? I’m starting to get nervous you won’t like them.”
He looks at you like you’re crazy. “Why did you get me anything? You didn’t have to do that.”
“Oh but I did.” You get Pooch’s stocking first and empty the whole thing on the carpet. John has to hold his ribs when he laughs as Pooch runs around the room at full speed with his new toy in his mouth.
Before John can protest again you get his stocking and unload it for him, explaining as you go. “Gummy bears to remind you of our first movie date. Epson salt for your sore muscles to soak and you’re taking a bath later, no arguing please and thank you. An Italian cookbook because that’s your favorite. A new black tie but I don’t think this is as nice as your other ones but well, whatever and oh!” You forgot about the bigger package behind the couch. “A small space heater for the basement because it’s cold down there.”
John just stares in awe as you ramble on and on, then pulls you in for a kiss. It tastes like coffee and blood.
A few hours later John brings you upstairs for your gift. He opens the guest room door and it’s now fully furnished with a bed, a sitting couch and a desk. The walls are painted a light lilac and you can tell he had help picking out the décor. He explains that this is your space to work, rest, whatever you want. He doesn’t say anything about moving in, but he does mention that you can spend more time here now.
He tells you he’d like to take you to get your first tattoo, if you want. When you tell him you’ve been thinking about getting a cross, or a wolf, or maybe a rosery he takes you in his arms and doesn’t let you go for awhile. He just holds you for as long as you’ll let him, until you know he’s probably stiff and needs to stretch his sore muscles.
When you’re cleaning upstairs and making the bed while he’s resting on the couch downstairs, you find a book under his pillow that is half way read. It’s How to Love Someone with Anxiety and even though John didn’t give it to you, that’s the best gift you could have ever received.
Chapter 11???? At least give us a month to look for? End of April?? Please??
Ugh I don't want to give a month. BUT I wrote more today than I have in a really long time. I'm currently at about 5,000 words so that's pretty good... right? :)
When are you posting chapter 11? I'm dying to read it. Please any date?
Hi! Thank you for the ask! I think I'm going to write the last two chapters all together to wrap everything up so it's going to take a little longer. I have drafts and rambles written down but well, I wish I didn't have to go to work so I could write all day :) thanks again!
Holy shit mc nuggets. I absolutely fucking adore and love "Find your worth" The writing, the plot, the thrill, just all of it, tis perfect, it's so. So. *Chefs kiss* I can't wait to see more of it, your writing is so amazing and the way it doesn't seem rushed or stretched too far is fantastic, keep it up! I can't wait to see the continuation and what you'll write in the future!
thank you for this! I plan to continue but it looks like my job is not slowing down soon. With working 55 hours a week I don't have enough energy to come home and write, which is all I really want to do!
yousharknotpass
gummygunk
tangentwithtanner
prguitarman
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romaincrisis
