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He had been staring at the coin for a while, now.
The shining gold reflected his face slightly as he made it dance around his fingers. He had been sitting in his basement alone with his thoughts, fighting the lump in his throat caused the event he never wanted to happen. His free hand rubbed his tired eyes, a sigh escaping his lips as he fought tears.
Earlier that day, it was an anniversary. More specifically, your anniversary with him. He knew you were excited about it, because he was too. Unfortunately, he was away on business. When he had called you to talk about it, you brushed it off, saying that it was okay and that as long as he came back okay you’d be fine. He had smiled at this, and told you he loved you, and you had said it back.
When he hung up, you stared at the screen until it turned itself off, starting to tear up. As much as you loved him, things like this made you disappointed, especially on a day like this. He always apologized, and although that was the case, you were always still hurt by it. He had been comfortable enough to tell you about his job, and you were grateful for it. Knowing exactly what he was doing was good, but at the same time it left you in a constant state of worry.
You didn’t know when he was supposed to be back, so you had made food for yourself and sat on the couch in the living room. You sat and watched a movie by yourself, constantly being close to tears. As the hours went by, you had fallen asleep, dreaming about a perfect day with John. Through the bliss, you had noticed that something was always off in it, like you breaking a lamp on accident or John stepping on your foot on accident. Before you knew it, the dream turned into a full blown nightmare you wouldn’t be able to explain. It was a loop, and although you couldn’t understand what was happening, there was one thing that would stay constant.
John would die.
You were tapped awake, a cold sweat over your body as you broke down, sobbing softly as you covered your face.
“Hey– Hey.” It was John’s voice, his arms wrapping around your waist softly, feeling you shaking against him. You looked at him through tearful eyes, seeing cuts and bruises littering his face through the darkness of the house. You sobbed harder, burying your face in his shoulder as he rubbed your back, his other hand softly brushing the hair away from your face. “What’s wrong?”
“Y-You– John–” You choked out between harsh breaths, grabbing his face and feeling him wince through your touch. He looked at you, worried as he pulled you on top of him, holding you. You continued to sob, hitting his chest as you broke down. He grabbed your wrist as lightly as he could, stopping you.
“Just let it out, tell me what’s wrong.” His words were soft as he moved to place his lips on your forehead, rubbing soft circles into your wrist.
“I d-don’t want to keep worrying about you–” You choked out, looking at him. His eyes looked into yours before he put his forehead to yours and sighed. “Y-You made me worry on our anniversary–”
“I know, and I’m sorry,” He murmured, pulling you closer. Your crying had stopped, and you took harsh breaths as you tried to calm down more. “I just thought I’d be home before that, I’m sorry for worrying you…”
“I keep having dreams, John,” You continue, breathing slowing. “And you keep dying.”
“You know I’m not going to die,” He intertwined your fingers with his, kissing your forehead once again. “I’m not going to die. I may get hurt, but I won’t die.”
“How do I know that?” You pulled yourself away from him, eyes looking over him. Although it was dark, you could see he was pretty beat up. “You come home looking like this most of the time, John. I’m always going to worry if you even come back or not. Don’t try to tell me you know, or that you won’t die, at the beginning of the month you almost bled out on our bed!”
He looked down in shame, letting out a soft sigh as he felt your weight leave the couch entirely. He heard your feet walking to your shared room, and he slowly got up to follow you. He watched you from the doorway as you packed up a bag, his eyes looking at your face in confusion.
“What are you doing?” He walked closer to you, a slight limp prevalent. You looked at him, eyes welling with tears as you noticed just how bad he looked. You shook your head, going back to packing up the small bag.
“I’m just– I’m leaving for a few days. It’s not you. I can’t blow up on you again, John. I think I just need a little space,” You laughed nervously, shaking your head again. “As hypocritical as it sounds, since you just left.”
“Don’t go, please. You don’t need to,” His hand rested on yours. “Tomorrow we can go out and spend some time together…”
“John,” You cut him off, looking at him before placing a hand on his cheek. “I love you. And it hurts seeing you so fucked up, especially a night like this…”
His eyes widened as your eyebrows furrowed in an emotion he couldn’t pinpoint. You shrugged it off, zipping up the bag with a huff.
“Happy Anniversary, John.”
He couldn’t stop you, pleading as you walked to the garage and hopped in your car. He watched you, motionless as your car pulled out of the driveway. He just watched you leave.
The rest of the night was spent alone in the basement, the coin in his hand. It took every ounce of self control to not go to where you were staying and knock the door down. To hold you again and apologize as many times as he could. He knew that this wasn’t permanent, but even if he did, it still hurt him.
He slammed the coin down in frustration, getting up from his chair and trudging back up the stairs. He didn’t know how, but he was most definitely going to make it up to you.
—
Being alone with your thoughts, it was much easier to see how badly you had overreacted. You laid in the hotel bed, staring at the ceiling in regret.
As much as you hated to admit it, you always worried about John. On the weeks he was gone you’d always check up on him as often as you could. There would be multiple times where you’d get a reply like “don’t text right now, love you.” Of course you understood why, but you always had that worried feeling in your gut.
When he’d come back bruised and scarred you’d get upset about it, tracing over them lightly as you pretended to scold him, his laugh echoing through the house as he held you in his lap. As much as you covered it up, he never noticed how sad about them you really were, and he’d kiss you as sweetly as he could.
You sat up, deciding to take a shower to try to shake off your thoughts. You’d decided that tomorrow you’d text John that you were going home, and that you’d apologize as much as you could. Maybe you’d still go out and spend time with him like he had wanted, though you seriously doubted it.
You ran the water and stepped into the shower, washing your hair with the shampoo offered by the hotel. You realized that most of the showers you took weren’t usually alone, and that most of the time you’d have John wash your hair. He was always delicate, and sometimes playful as he did it, massaging your scalp. It was always the best feeling in the world, and right now you were missing it, putting your head in the water and washing it off.
As soon as you were done, you stepped out of the shower, wrapping yourself in a towel. You looked at yourself in the mirror before being startled by a knock at the door, opening the bathroom door to check who it was.
“I’m sorry, but I’m not entirely ready to–” You stopped your sentence short as you saw John through the peephole.
“Can we talk? Please?” You unlocked the door, opening it slightly to look at him. His hands were behind his back, and he was looking at you with a slight smile.
“How did you–” You started talking, before he cut you off by pulling out what he was holding behind his back. A single rose.
“You know me. I just find things out.” He joked, and you scoffed as you moved to let him in, grabbing the rose and putting it on a desk in the room. He walked in as you walked to your bag, pulling out the clothes you were going to wear.
“Listen, I–” He started, but stopped as you ran to hug him, arms wrapping around him and burying your face in his chest.
“I’m so sorry, John,” You looked up at him, eyes watering. “I overreacted really badly, and I shouldn’t have. I should trust you when you’re gone and I’m sorry I get so upset when I see you hurt like this.”
His arms wrapped around you, holding you close as his hand rubbed your back. His other hand made its way to your face, cupping your cheek as he brushed away any stray tears.
“I should be the one sorry. I know I scare you a lot, and I always feel awful for it. I’m always doing my best to keep from getting myself hurt worse, because I know you don’t like seeing me all beat up.” He brushed some hair out of your face, looking into your eyes. “I just want to keep you happy.”
Tears started streaming down your face as you buried your face in his chest once more. He moved down to pick you up, holding you tight as he sat on the bed. His fingers tangled themselves in your hair as his other hand moved to pull you away from his chest. You looked up at him as he kissed you softly, his hand moving it’s way to your waist.
“John,” You murmured. “You don’t have to apologize. I was in the wrong.”
“I know.” He smiled against your lips, chuckling a bit. “I just don’t want to lose you to something silly again.”
He kissed you again before putting his forehead to yours.
“Listen, I know that you’re okay now, but…” He reached into the pocket of his pants, pulling out a small velvet lined box.
“Oh no, John. No.” You laughed as he pushed it into your hands, smiling at you.
“Just open it. It’s a gift.” He held you closer to him, watching as you opened the box.
“It’s a…” You looked at him, smiling. “Necklace. A diamond necklace. John!”
“Hey, I can spoil you all I want, okay?” He smiled, before rubbing your side slightly. You pulled it out, looking at the small chain before placing it back inside the box and closing it. You placed it on the nightstand, smiling widely at him.
“You realize you’re still in a towel, right?”
“Oh.” You looked down, getting off of him and grabbing your clothes. “I’ll go change.”
He grabbed your waist, pulling you back as you giggled.
“Hey, I never said it was a bad thing.” He pulled you on his lap again, kissing you. “I can give you another gift. That is, if you want it.”
“Oh, I definitely want it.”