Purple Heart | Demi Lovato

3

Demi

"As the President of the United States of America, I would like to award the honor of both The Purple Heart and The Medal of Honor to Sergeant First Class Wilmer Eduardo Valderrama."

I beamed and stood up, clapping loudly as Wilmer stood in front of President Barack Obama as he placed the two separate medals around Wilmer's neck. Wilmer smiled, looking handsome in his dress blues, and shook Obama's hand, the flash of the cameras documenting the occasion.

He shook so many people's hands, once he finally made it back to me I could see the relief in his eyes at a familiar face.

"Hey, Dems."

"Hi baby!" I hugged him tightly, careful not to break any of the other medals on his dress blues, and smiled hugely. "I'm so proud of you Wilmer."

He smiled back, but I could see the guilt in his eyes still. He still didn't believe his actions warranted praise.

"Thank you."

I put my hand on his cheek and smiled. "I love you."

He looked into my eyes and suddenly a flash went off, a photographer smiled and held up his camera. "You two make a great couple. Can I get a picture?"

I nodded, and as Wilmer's hand slipped around my waist I pressed my hand against his chest, smiling at the camera. The flash went off and Wilmer squeezed my waist as the guy walked away.

"Let's go."

I took his arm and nodded, letting him escort me through the various military officers until we got to the line of SUV's.

"Sergeant Valderrama." The driver who had brought us here from the airport walked up. "Would you like me to take you back to your hotel?"

"Please, thank you."

We got into the car and I leaned into Wilmer's side, smiling up at him. "I really am proud of you, Wilmer. What you did was amazing."

"Thank you." He gave me a quick smile back before his eyes focused out of the window.

"Hey." I touched his chin to catch his attention. "I love you."

"I love you too."

I bit my lip and glanced at the driver before I leaned up, kissing him gently. Wilmer tried to pull away but I held the back of his neck, deepening the kiss a bit before his hands restrained my face and pulled away.

"Demi." He murmured, looking pointedly at the driver.

"Fine." I bit my lip. "Later."

He looked back out of the window and I sighed heavily. Wilmer and I haven't been intimate with each other since before he left for Afghanistan last time. It's been nearly eight months.

I know it's because he's working through things and has a lot of pent up emotions but I can't help but wonder if it's because of me; if he doesn't see me the same way anymore.

Once we got back to the hotel Wilmer changed out of his dress blues. I stepped out of the bathroom and took a deep breath when I saw his bare back. Parts of it were scarred from the surgeries performed to save his life but what stuck out to me was the small circular scar on his upper back. It was the first time I had seen this much of Wilmer's skin to see the bullet wound.

As I took a step forward Wilmer turned, and my eyes ran down his sculpted abdomen, seeing another gunshot scar on his shoulder, and another on his hip. I walked forward until I stood just inches from him, my hand reaching out to touch the scar on his hip, feeling the rough patch of tissue. My other hand came up to touch the one on his shoulder and I finally met his gaze.

"I came so close to losing you."

Wilmer put his hand on my cheek. "I'm right here."

"But you almost weren't." I leaned forward until my forehead touched his chest. "I don't know what I would've done, Wilmer."

"You would've been okay."

"No, I wouldn't have. I love you more than anything, more than air and the sun and life itself. I would never be okay."

"I love you too."

"Prove it." I breathed, pressing my lips to his chest. "Make love to me."

~*~

"NO!"

I gasped, flying up into a sitting position. Beside me, Wilmer thrashed in the bed, his hands and legs jerking around.

"Wilmer!"

My first instinct was to grab his arms, and the moment my skin touched his he flipped us over, pinning my shoulders down, his hand wrapping around my throat. His grip was like unyielding steel as it constricted, cutting off my airway.

A guttural scream left my mouth as I kicked out, my foot making contact with his groin. With a yell Wilmer rolled off the bed to the floor and I scrambled off the other side, gasping for air as I clutched my throat. The large t-shirt I wore to bed was constricting around me from the panic. Wilmer rolled to his feet, staggering back until his back slammed against the wall, panting hard.

"Demi?" His eyes widened when he saw me.

I opened my mouth and drew in a ragged breath, wincing in pain.

"Demi? Are you okay?"

I wheezed in and out, my hand still holding my throat. I shook my head, the words not coming out.

"Demi?"

He took a step forward and I flinched back, holding my hand up- palm out, to stop him. I swallowed hard and slowly turned, walking into the bathroom. I leaned against the sink, wbreathing out deeply.

"Demi." Wilmer appeared in the doorway and I shook my head.

"I'm fine." My voice came out too cracked to be audible. "I'm okay."

"No you're not."

"I'm fine, Wilmer-"

"No." He stepped closer and gently put his hand on mine, bringing it away from my throat. Purplish bruises were already blooming across my skin, the deep color made me grimace; this would look worse in a few hours.

"You didn't mean it." I breathed, shaking my head. "You were asleep, and having a nightmare."

"That's no excuse." Wilmer shut his eyes tightly and his hands came up to grip his hair. "I am so sorry Demi. I'm so sorry."

I gently took his hand. "Let's just go back to bed."

"No." He yanked his arm away. "You get in bed. I'm sleeping on the floor."

"I thought we got past the floor." I murmured, putting my hands on his bare sides. "Don't push me away."

"That's exactly what I'm doing." He shook his head. "I'm not sleeping in the same bed as you Demi. I'm not sleeping anywhere near you."

"Baby-"

"Don't touch me." Wilmer stepped out of my reach and my heart cracked. "Don't touch me again."

I took a step forward but he walked away, shaking his head as he got dressed quickly, heading towards the door.

"Where are you going?" I whispered, stepping into his path.

"Out. I need to get some fresh air."

"Don't go far." I murmured, and wanted to run my hand through his hair, but he needed space right now, and I could accept that.

"I won't."

He walked out of the room and I leaned against the door as he shut it, sliding down to the floor as I absentmindedly rubbed my throat.

What would happen to us?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Comment and Vote!

Twitter: Lovatic_Chica

-Rachel