Perfect Nights Aren’t So Perfect
Requested: Prompt given by Anon for this picture:
“For the pic maybe Chris and the reader are in the car and a car hits the reader’s side while Chris is driving.”
Summary: The reader and Chris have recently started dating. They hadn’t seen each other for a while because Chris was shooting for his next project. Once he wrapped up shooting, he asks the Reader out on a date where he pulls out all the stops. Will the evening end on a perfect note or will it turn into a true tragedy?
A/N: Dear Anon, I hope this is even remotely close to what you had in mind with the prompt. Sorry in advance.
Trigger Warning: Descriptions of car crash, a bit of whump.
“Hmmm. This is nice,” you said as Chris slipped on his jacket over your dress.
It had been the perfect evening. You had missed Chris like crazy when he was away shooting and now that he was back, he had planned a stunning dinner under the stars. His thoughtfulness had filled up your heart, making it flutter erratically every time he accidentally (and intentionally) touched you.
He opened the passenger door and helped you in, placing a quick kiss on your lips, just because he could. He slipped in the car and helped you with your seatbelt before putting on his. You loved how he always found a way to touch you and be connected to you. You were seeing him after ten weeks and that was clearly evident by how touch starved both of you were.
He drove towards his place, as you had already agreed for a nightcap. He held your hand in his as he drove with the other.
“Yes, babygirl,” he said and you bit your lip, smiling at the nickname he called you.
“Thank you. Thank for the flowers, thank you for the necklace, thank you for every single text message and call that I received from you when you were away, thank you for making me feel so special,” you said and brought up his hand and placed a kiss on it.
“Y/n, my love, thank you for being you,” he said, looking at you for a quick second before turning his attention back to the road.
You raised your hand to stroke his cheek; a boom sent your whole world spinning. Everything around you was moving impossibly slow. Glass shattered from your side of the window, filling up the car seat, while you were assaulted with air bags deployed from the front and the side. You tried to look at Chris, but between the air bags and the liquid running into your eyes, you couldn’t see much. The vehicle kept moving and you were being continuously jerked around, but because of your seatbelt you were rooted in your seat. The air was filled with screams and your name and you realized that you were the one screaming and Chris was calling out your name.
The car stopped spinning, but the ringing in your ears didn’t. Sirens and slashing lights enveloped you and you tried moving your hand to find Chris. The effort it took was tremendous and your body protested by shooting out pain, but you had to know. You tried lifting up your head and turned to the side, realizing that Chris was already looking at you. Tears were streaming down his face and he was speaking, but you failed to understand what he was saying. His face was drenched in fear and perspiration as he tried to unlock your seatbelt. You watched him look for his phone amid the rubble and place a call. You were tired, you knew he would look after you, you knew that he wouldn’t let anything happen to you.
His eyes were locked into yours. You saw he was struggling with himself to not touch you and help you himself, but he was worried about the damage he would do. His eyes welled up again. You could make out that your name was the only thing he kept saying over and over again.
You mouthed I love you, unable to find the strength to even whisper them out and closed your eyes.
You remembered next to nothing about the next few hours. You slipped in and out of consciousness.
Someone was cutting off the door next to you and slicing off the seat belt.
Paramedics were shouting to the ER doctors.
Nurses shuffled in and out.
You felt cold swabs and sharp pinches.
And then you went to sleep.
Soft beeps woke you up and it took a second for you to realize where you were and what happened. You looked around the room and your eyes landed on Chris asleep on an lounge chair.
You smiled at him sleeping in that position and realized that he needed the sleep and decided not to call attention to you. There were enough meds in your system to put you to sleep again and you snuggled into the pillow and dozed off.
“- so glad that you’re alive. I don’t even want to think about what could have happened. I promise, I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you,” someone whispered.
You slowly opened your eyes and found Chris sitting next to your bed.
“Baby, you’re awake!” Chris broke out into a splendid smile.
“I am so sorry, all of this is my fault. I should have been more attention to the road. Please, forgive me,” he said, his hands clenched into fists, clearly angry at himself.
“Chris, baby, look at me,” you said and laid your hand on top of his.
“This isn’t your fault, they’re called accidents for a reason. You couldn’t have done anything about it. Please don’t beat yourself up.”
He reached out to touch your face, but stopped midway, putting his hand down.
“You know you can touch me, right?”
“I am scared, I don’t want to hurt you anymore,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.
“I survived a car crash, I think I can handle you, Evans,”you said, trying to make a joke.
His eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets.
“Sorry. Too soon?” you said, teasing him and he finally relaxed.
He cupped your cheek in his palm and you leaned into it, happy to finally get some contact.
Chris was right by your side as the doctors came in and talked about the damage, saying that you were very lucky to end up with only a superficial head injury and a few broken ribs. There was however a nasty gash on your thigh from where the other vehicle had rammed into your side of the vehicle. You had also banged up your shoulder pretty bad because of the impact, but you had no broken bones and no internal bleeding and all of your scans and tests had shown a normal reading. He was right by your side when the nurses came in to change your dressing. He thanked everyone profusely for their help, making those butterflies return in your belly, albeit a little bruised.
Three nights in the hospital and you were finally ready to go home. You were still bandaged up, but the nurses had taught you how to change the dressing, and of course, Chris had insisted on learning too.
Chris hadn’t left even for an hour, during the time he had spent at the hospital, his assistant had dropped of a bag of clothes and supplies. He had also snuck in some ice cream because hospital food was absolutely bland.
You shooed away the nurse who came in with a wheelchair to take you outside, but returned again with Chris by her side.
“Babe, either you get the wheelchair or I can carry you out here in my arms, bridal style. It’s your call,” he said, mirth dancing in his eyes.
Horrified at the prospect of all those eyes trained on you, you meekly agreed to the wheelchair.
Chris laid out your clothes on the bed, a wrap-around skirt and shirt.
“Sorry about the dress,” he said, referring to the red satin number you had worn for dinner, “ I will buy you ten more.”
You laughed and stood up, ready to get into some normal clothes. You never wanted to see hospital greens ever again in your life.
“Whoa, hello? I am right here. Let me help you,” Chris said, proceeding to help you out of the gown.
His pure heart reflected in everything he did and you nearly bawled like a baby when he said that he got the wrap around skirt because he knew it would be difficult for you to step into any clothes.
Your arm, though tender, was out of the supporting cast, and hence you could slip on your shirt. Chris pulled your hair out from the shirt and went ahead and tied it in a low pony, keeping all that hair out of your face.
“It’s not fair,” you mumbled
“What was that, babe?” Chris said and pulled you towards him.
“I said that it’s not fair that you get to look this good after three nights of sleeping on a hospital couch.”
“Get used to this face because I don’t think I am ever letting you out of my sight. Y/N, we are going home, you are going to recover and get back on your feet and then I will officially ask you if you want to move in with me, but for now, you’re coming home with me,” he said, leaning his forehead against yours.
All of his anguish and fears were vivid in your mind and you couldn’t get the image of him scared and screaming your name out.
To grant both him and yourself some peace of mind, you smiled and agreed, placing kiss on his lips that sealed the deal.