Somebody To Love - Chris Evans
summary: Chris keeps trying to tell you he’s in this for the long haul. You, however, don’t think he realizes what the haul will enquire. Does he know there’s more to you than what you show him? Does he see the pain in your eyes?
people: Chris - Reader (you)
word count: 1.6k
a/n: I want this to be dedicated to a loving and caring person who knows what having everyday pain is like. @sfreeborn you are a warrior, and like me, you have to get up and go on with your day even when it feels like hell. You are so amazing and I just hope this imagine is something you’ll enjoy, I only want to make you happy, dear. - R .xx
Have you ever felt just…so angry at nothing? You just endure the anger because you can’t blame anyone! You just swallow the pill of tolerance every day and wait until you’ve reached the point of no return. You become your anger. Water that’s boiling hot in a spot right inside your heart. Your loved ones, they try to help but what can help a lost cause? I’m gone, I’m done. I can’t keep pretending, and I know it’ll feel like ripping off a band-aid of a bee sting. But he knows it, and I know it.
I’m not enough.
I’m just so angry, all the time… but who am I angry at? Myself? My body for defying it’s one duty of protecting and nurturing me? No. I was just angry. Angry.
My eyes opened fast and immediately I regretted my decision to wake up. I lifted up my arms to rub my eyes and sit up but fell back into the bed. My arms felt like I’d gone to the gym last night and lifted twenty-pound weights; all night long. Aching so badly my hand shook as I reached for my phone on the bedside table. Typing in my password, I opened up my messages and saw his name right at the top of my contact list, with a blue dot on the left.
Chris: Love wake up! Your coming to set today to meet the cast! Anthony says he’s excited to meet Mrs. America haha XP
Chris: Honey? :)
Chris: Ladybug? You’re normally awake by ten… are you okay?
Chris: okay I’m worried now, I’ve called ten times, I’m coming home.
Jesus… why the hell was he up my ass right now?
Glancing at the time my body released a tender sigh, 2:45 P.M.
How had I missed his calls? I always knew it was him by his custom ringtone; “Single Ladies” by Beyoncé. My ringer was on loud too, so why the hell had I missed them all?
Dropping my phone onto the white comforter that held me hostage in a tight, comfy cocoon. Awaiting for Chris to come through the door in panic any minute. He’d be racing the highway to get here and I was already guilt-ridden enough, I didn’t want to cause him an accident by calling him so I awaited his booming voice he never realized pierced my eardrums like shards of glass.
The fight started when he found her in her pajamas, rifling through the tea collection in the kitchen. When he saw her, looking to him like just a lazy-ass, he started in on her. Never seeing the pain in her eyes as his voice hurt her ears like he was scraping his nail down the chalkboard. She tried to hold her own, but there was a Mardi Gras that was going on inside her brain that prohibited her from even hearing his voice. That was, until he slammed his keys on the kitchen counter, making my pain suddenly become power. Angry, nasty, vulnerable power.
“You listen to me, Chris!” His head jumped up to look at her red, puffy eyes. They poured anger into his, and immediately Chris felt himself realize his fuck up of yelling.
He knew she had chronic pain. Normally, she would just power through it. Lately, though, she seemed… slower, more tired and less driven to be intimate with him… he should’ve known that there was more than just a headache to her chronic pain.
“You listen, okay? I’m am a fucking mess, Chris! I have days, where I can’t get out of bed! I’m depressed, therefore I’m not a confident person, ever. I’m always uncomfortable, scared or tired! Do you know how that feels? A-And, s-sometimes I’m just…sometimes I have days where I need someone. Because my brain is questioning everything and everyone. My brain goes into overdrive and suddenly I’m terrified we’re going to get a nuclear attack or I am gonna have like this… massive stroke! I have this severe anxiety and then come to the panic attacks. I have chronic. pain. I am not going to get better, it just a fact. And I hate that! I hate that so fucking much but it’s my life! I deal with it. I do what I can, but I will be damned if I drag someone I love into my personal hell, Christopher. You don’t need someone like me. You deserve a lot bet-”
“No, I don’t, Y/N because you’re mine. You are my woman. I love you, dammit! More than I ever thought I possibly could. I want to be here, there, anywhere you have to go! I want to be at your side. To help you through the pain, cheer you on as you continue getting your therapies. Baby, I don’t need anyone else. I don’t know how to convince you, darling… how can I get you to believe in me! Believe in the truth! There’s no one else I need or want. You’re my one, baby. You must know that, or at least feel that.” You shook your head, though, looking down at the blue tips of your hands, angry with Chris’s words.
Standing up I went to walk away but halted, feeling that gnawing off my anger bubbling up in my stomach for some reason, this time I didn’t suppress it, I took it in and embraced that anger, letting it flood the room with my poisonous tone. Even Chris jumped when he heard my roar.
“WHY DO YOU WANT SOMEONE WHO CAN’T BE WHAT YOU WANT? WHY? YOU COULD HAVE HAD THE HOTTEST WOMEN IN THE WORLD, I DON’T GET IT, CHRISTOPHER!”
Tears streamed like rivers down your cheeks but you couldn’t care less, you felt broken and wanted help. You hurt and wanted to be cared for. You were exhausted to the point of just passing out on the floor. You wouldn’t even mind if that happened, though. It’d help in forgetting that this fight ever occurred.
Chris decided to come back at me one final time. Throwing his emotional pain into his words, finally letting me see an emotion I rarely saw in Chris; desperation.
“WHY DON’T YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND I’M IN LOVE YOU! THAT’S IT. YOU ARE THE ONE I WANT, FOREVER!”
When he stopped. It was like his final words did it for me, things clicked and I saw behind those blue eyes that he was telling the cold, hard, truth. He was leaving me, he wanted to be with me… and though those words didn’t make sense in my mind now, I felt comforted in a weird way, like I was actually… loved, by someone.
We didn’t speak. we just let our bodies talk to us.
Maybe it was the pain that finally got to her, letting her emotional barricade be broken down, allowing Chris to come over to her side of this violent, kitchen war. My legs were shaking and he could tell I was in immense pain from standing so long. Quickly he swept me up from the floor and into his arms. I relaxed into his chest while my arms hung around Chris’s neck.
He pecked my forehead steadily as he reached our bedroom, laying me down on the comforter while he searched for a blanket to cover me. I felt my eyes getting droopier and droopier by the second. Like they always say, you never know when you slip into sleep, it just comes over you and takes you in. I gladly let sleep take away me in, dissipating the pounding headache and throbbing limbs I was suffering with. I knew when I woke up, he’d be right by my side. Things would be different, though, he’d know what’s happening, he’d be different when he talks about going out and doing active things.
Chris would take a while to mildly understand what my chronic pain felt like, but I would gladly wait with him as he learned from watching. He was a guardian for me, I guess. I could hold my own if I wanted too. But sometimes, you just want to be loved and taken care of.
Looking at her, I studied her silently. She looked so… defeated. Defeated by her own body, I couldn’t imagine anything worse than getting fucked over by myself. Never being able to stop it. She closed her eyes slowly and let out a sigh of relief. From what? I don’t know. I silently padded around the bedroom, grabbing her two blankets and a glass of water in case she had a headache in the morning. Which normally was the case. Crawling onto the other half of the bed, I just… watched. I watched over her, feeling like I was protecting her from something. Maybe whatever I was protecting her from was all made up in my head, but frankly, I didn’t give a fuck.
This was my woman, and I was going to care for her. Every moment, of every day. Because she deserved this.