𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑 𝐓. ─── ☾ 𝐀 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄
ʟɪɴᴋꜱ
↪ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ
↪ ᴊᴏᴇ ᴋᴇᴇʀʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ
↪ ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ
ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏꜱ
↪ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.7ᴋ
↪ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ɢᴀᴛᴏʀ ᴛɪʟʟᴍᴀɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
↪ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴘʜʏꜱɪᴄᴀʟ ᴀʙᴜꜱᴇ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ ᴀʙᴜꜱᴇ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛ ᴘʜʏꜱɪᴄᴀʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ᴡᴏᴜɴᴅꜱ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴ ᴀʙᴜꜱɪᴠᴇ ꜰᴀᴛʜᴇʀ, ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ, ʜᴜɢꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴏᴛꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴋɪꜱꜱᴇꜱ, ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ
I hope you like this short story @jorkingtodjo 🤗
English is not my native language, so I apologize for any mistake and if you can help me improve it, I will greatly appreciate it. I hope you enjoy it :D
ㅤㅤGator could barely hear, barely see, barely breathe when you found him covered in a thin layer of snow under the porch of your house. He couldn't even remember how he had been able, or where he had found the strength, to walk automatically, his mind clouded by the intense burning and pain in his wounded body, for more than two kilometers, in the snow that was falling that cold November day, from the ranch he had abandoned after the heated argument he had with his father to your small and cozy home, to the tiny corner of light and warmth that stood out in that small town in North Dakota, the place he had also called his own thanks to your presence and all the good you brought into his life; At some point during that argument, amidst the shouting and threats she received after a job poorly done and a retort she'd been unable to control, his mind drifted from the present, finding refuge in the memories she shared with you and how much she longed to be with you ever since his father's hand had struck his face so hard.
ㅤㅤIf she had feigned some kind of flu-like symptom, perhaps she could have slipped away from dinner at his father's house and taken a detour to stay with you that night; little did she know that, regardless of what had happened, she would have ended up in your presence, only his physical and emotional state would have been considerably different.
ㅤㅤThe warmth in your voice, that question whispered to avoid making his headaches more pronounced, caused him to stir slightly in your arms like a small child seeking greater comfort, not to move away from the source of warmth that was you, but to find the solace that only you, your hugs, and your kisses could provide. Without hesitation, even though you had him wrapped up as best you could with your limbs, which didn't quite cover him as much as you'd liked, you readjusted your position so he was pressed closer to you and could feel the warmth of the sheets and the warmth emanating from your body against his. Perhaps at another time, he would have given you a little nibble on the neck or a playful squeeze on the bottom, as was natural when you were so snuggled up together, but he was so distressed that he didn't even think he had the strength to move on his own unless someone did it for him.
ㅤㅤThe answer was terse, not unlike his usual manner. But his tone was so soft, cracked, and painful compared to his usual commanding and confident demeanour, that it inevitably broke your heart. Gator hadn't just suffered the wrath of his father that night—or rather, the man who held that title by obligation—but the memories of every time he'd been tortured, both physically and mentally, by Roy's harsh hand were weighing more and more heavily on every part of him, until he felt like different, oppressive blocks of cement were engulfing every pore, preventing him from even thinking clearly.
ㅤㅤ"I wish I'd been there," you murmured, running your fingers through the man's short, already dishevelled hair, resting your chin on his head to offer him the sense of protection you knew he needed. Gator responded by tightening his grip on the fabric of your pyjama top. "I would have stopped him." I wouldn't have let him hurt you.
ㅤㅤGator shook his head. He would never have let you interfere in an argument he had with Roy. He would never allow the only good thing in his life to be jeopardised because of his own actions.
ㅤㅤ"No," he denied again, emphasising his initial answer by shaking his head from side to side. "He would have hurt you, and I wouldn't have been able to bear it."
ㅤㅤBecause Gator, despite his tough-guy facade—the kind of man who could carry the world on his shoulders without showing the slightest crack in his armour to anyone who knew him—was actually a coward and a pushover. If that situation had arisen, if you had ever tried to defend him from his father's mistreatment, I was more than certain Roy wouldn't have hesitated to slap you, telling you to stay out of his business. And Gator would have kept quiet and accepted the situation like the coward he truly was. Unfortunately for you, and even more so for you, since you had chosen a weak man as your boyfriend, he wouldn't have defended you as he would have liked.
ㅤㅤGator had always lived in his father's shadow, striving for his affection and acceptance through actions that weren't even morally right, or by trying to outshine those he saw as his competitors, those who had previously earned Roy's approval. Of course, in the eyes of that man, whose pride and ego, which stifled any kind of positive feeling, had no place for love, Gator had always been useless, good for nothing more than the simplest and least important dirty work he could find, because he thought he might ruin it just by trying. Gator wasn't clumsy on purpose; he just wanted to do things right, to be enough. And being enough wasn't something that met Roy's minimum standards, and even if it did, Gator never met them in his eyes.
ㅤㅤFaced with those thoughts, the cowardice he was ashamed of, and the lack of love in his life that almost no one had noticed, the chestnut-haired man slightly moved the arm around your waist, trying to pull you closer. His face nestled into the small area between the base of your neck and your shoulder, pressing his forehead against the stretch of skin before a trembling sigh escaped his lips. You felt it like a warm gust of air that sent shivers down your spine.
ㅤㅤHe didn't want to cry, he really didn't, and even less so in front of you. But he felt so insignificant to himself, to his father, to you.
ㅤㅤ"It's okay, you're not alone. You're safe, Gator."
ㅤㅤThose words meant to offer comfort provoked the reaction you had selfishly hoped for. His eyes filled with tears, tears he had surely held back for years, tears he had avoided letting out so as not to appear vulnerable to anyone around him, or even to himself. And, unintentionally, they escaped like two small streams of water over which he had no control. For the first time in his life, Gator was not in control of anything that was happening, and that terrified him.
He had come to you, to your precious little house, to your warm arms, seeking the love he had always lacked, and now that he was there with you, he felt utterly insignificant. He had always been told not to show vulnerability, and now he felt as heartbroken as a small child who had just woken from his worst nightmare, which, ironically, was almost exactly what was happening to him.
ㅤㅤHe wept and trembled. Oh, how he trembled.
ㅤㅤGator didn't make a sound; no sobs were heard; instead, he tried to stifle any sound he might make. His lower lip was bitten so hard that he could easily cut himself if he continued to grind his teeth against the sensitive flesh. He felt so heartbroken, so wounded by what had happened just a couple of hours ago and by the emotional weight he carried after years of abuse, that he thought Roy, even if he was miles away sleeping peacefully with the new woman he had married after Nadine, would appear at your doorstep, belt in hand, to teach him how to behave like a real man, just as he had been "taught" as a child.
ㅤㅤ"No, don't do that," you shook your head gently, cupping his face in your hands so you could see him.
ㅤㅤ"No, don't do that." Gator hadn't realised he'd closed his eyes until he noticed he could only see darkness. Forcing himself to open his eyelids despite his need to keep them closed, fearing this moment was a dream orchestrated by his mind after fainting from his father's beating, he saw your beautiful face through the light mist caused by the tears still streaming from his eyes. He could see that you were as real as he needed you to be, perfectly distinguishing every tiny millimetre of you that he adored so much; you were there, with him, and that was all he needed. Your gaze was fixed on his lips, which you were subtly caressing with your thumb, causing his teeth to loosen the lower lip as if to release the tension. He watched as this happened, the trapped lip appearing slightly redder than the upper one, marked with small nicks from the tips of his teeth.
ㅤㅤWith a tenderness that almost brought another torrent of tears to his eyes, you kissed his lower lip, as if trying to heal the new pain that had begun to course through his body.
ㅤㅤIt wasn't a normal kiss. You didn't kiss him with joy and excitement like when you saw each other after days apart because of your respective jobs, you didn't kiss him lazily like when you found each other in bed in the morning, first thing in the morning, you didn't kiss him passionately and with need like when you began your foreplay before going to the bedroom.
ㅤㅤThat kiss was like a bandage on his wounded soul and heart, but it was the first of hundreds you showered upon every inch of his face.
ㅤㅤGator closed his eyes again as he felt your lips kiss his lower lip once more, with the same tenderness and gentleness as the first kiss you had given him, followed, of course, by another that covered his lower lip, slightly cut from the slap he had received from his father. Then, he felt them at the corners of his lips, causing a single tear to inevitably roll from his eye, and he smiled slyly for a few seconds, reflecting on what that action meant to both of you—an action with which you sought to elicit even a laugh from him. And you certainly didn't forget his cheeks, especially those freckles you loved to observe, covering every inch of his body. First, you gently stroked them to wipe away the tears that still stained his slightly injured skin. You even took a few seconds to admire that tiny, almost imperceptible freckle beneath his left eye, which you had discovered one morning while he slept peacefully. His nose also received the attention it deserved, as did his eyes and eyebrows, while you lovingly stroked the bruised jaw that Roy had chosen to injure when he punched Gator the moment he dared to defend himself against his father's aggression.
ㅤㅤYou showered him with love, you gave him what he longed for most, and in return, he only tightened his grip on you, his hands clenching into fists as the fabric of your shirt was caught in his grasp, silently thanking you for every act of love with which you tried to heal him.
ㅤㅤIf he had ever imagined that a woman, an incredible and wonderful woman, would come into his life to give him what he had only ever wanted and longed for since he was a child, he surely would have laughed. He would have mocked himself for how vulnerable he seemed at that thought, but it was the best thing he had ever felt.
ㅤㅤTo be heard, to be seen, to be loved.
ㅤㅤ“Are my kisses so miraculous that you've stopped crying?”
ㅤㅤYour question made him laugh, a short laugh that sounded like a snort, but you knew it meant his mood had improved, that your action had been a complete success and was slowly bringing back the Gator you knew.
ㅤㅤNow it was your turn to laugh, lowering your head to look into his eyes, meeting those hazel orbs, which shone softly from the tears that had fallen earlier, before pressing your forehead against his in an attempt to make him feel more connected to you, helping his body and mind to find themselves in the present instead of getting lost again in the sea of his memories and thoughts.
ㅤㅤ"You didn't seem to be complaining a few seconds ago," you teased with a playful smile, to which he couldn't help but roll his eyes at the comment.
ㅤㅤOf course, he wasn't going to complain; he loved the feeling your kisses and attention gave him. He'd have to be a real fool to refuse something so wonderful.
ㅤㅤAnd without hesitation, he raised his head just enough so that your lips brushed, bringing small smiles to your faces and subtle blushes to your cheeks that had nothing to do with his crying or your concern for his emotional state. He stretched out enough to touch you and exchange the physical affection he so desperately wanted. Gator adored being kissed by you, but exchanging those kisses with you was far better than anyone could have ever imagined; he was certain that, as you had said, your kisses were miraculous.
ㅤㅤAnd, without hesitation, he raised his head just enough so that your lips brushed against each other, bringing small smiles to your faces and subtle blushes to your cheeks that had nothing to do with his crying or your concern for his emotional state. The constant pain in his head, that migraine that had collapsed him on your bed, seemed to have dissipated, and the numbness in his limbs from the cold night he'd had to endure was now nothing more than a sensation his body forgot the moment he felt your arms wrap around his waist and shoulders.
ㅤㅤYou were the miracle he had so longed for in his life.
ㅤㅤ"Are my kisses so miraculous that you've stopped frowning?"
ㅤㅤHis playful question, pressed against your lips, elicited a soft chuckle from you, a sound Gator definitely wanted to hear every day of his life.
ㅤㅤ“You’re a liar, I wasn’t frowning,” you pointed out, pulling your face far enough away from his to cover your mouth with your hand, trying to stifle your laughter, though it was inevitable that you would continue to laugh.
ㅤㅤ“What do you mean, no? I was looking at those little wrinkles because you were worried about me.”
ㅤㅤYou shook your head, and although your eyes remained on his, this time you weren’t looking at the injured man who had ended up on your doorstep, but at one who was gazing with absolute adoration at the woman with whom he felt completely at home.
ㅤㅤThe person who was definitely made for him and with whom he would definitely share the rest of his life.
